Four Years After the Coronation
The oceans of Mogar were changing.
Slowly.
Relentlessly.
Inevitably.
For countless millennia, the depths had been divided.
Thousands of tribes.
Ancient predators.
Isolated settlements.
Forgotten ruins.
Endless stretches of wilderness untouched by civilization.
There had never been a true kingdom beneath the waves.
Now there was.
Thalor stood upon the highest observation platform of Atlantis.
Far below, the capital stretched into the distance.
Silver towers.
Blue crystal spires.
White bridges illuminated by runic arrays.
Countless vessels moved through the waterways connecting the city districts.
The entire kingdom glowed with life.
Arcadia appeared beside him.
A holographic map materialized before them.
Nearly a third of Mogar's oceans are illuminated in blue.
Kingdom of Atlantis
Population:
2,147,381 Citizens
Military Personnel:
218,643 Active Service Members
Royal Guard:
12,000
Territory Controlled:
34.7% of Mogar's Oceans
Facilities Restored:
51
Warp Gate Hubs:
73
Major Cities:
22
Four years.
Only four years had passed since his coronation.
And yet Atlantis had become something no one had thought possible.
A kingdom.
A true kingdom.
Lords of the Deep
Not all who joined Atlantis were people.
Some were far older.
The first alliance came from an Abyssal Whale Emperor Beast.
A creature older than many kingdoms.
It had approached Atlantis peacefully.
Not seeking territory.
Not seeking war.
Seeking aid.
Its descendants suffered from a hereditary mana disorder that had plagued their bloodline for generations.
Atlantean healers solved the problem within weeks.
The alliance followed shortly afterward.
Then others came.
Sea Serpents.
Leviathans.
Ancient Turtles.
Deep Sea Krakens.
Entire magical beast clans.
Most remained independent.
Yet they willingly entered Atlantean territory.
Trade agreements.
Mutual defense pacts.
Educational exchanges.
Research partnerships.
For the first time in Mogar's history.
Civilized races and magical beasts worked together as equals.
Even Fenagar had admitted it was impressive.
Though he sounded irritated when doing so.
The Forge Revolution
The greatest transformation occurred within Atlantis's forges.
Years earlier, Thalor had acquired the Hands of Menadion.
A relic many considered impossible to replicate.
Most would have stopped there.
Satisfied to possess such a treasure.
Thalor had not.
Instead, he studied them.
Year after year.
Not how they worked.
Why they worked.
Eventually, he discovered the truth.
The Hands were never meant to forge artifacts.
They were meant to teach understanding.
To help craftsmen perceive the relationship between mana, matter, and intent.
Using those principles, Atlantis created something new.
Artificer's Hands.
A simplified version suitable for mass production.
Every certified Atlantean forgemaster received one.
The gauntlets allowed craftsmen to perceive:
Material density.
Mana impurities.
Structural weaknesses.
World Energy currents.
Runic inconsistencies.
Not enough to replace talent.
Enough to elevate it.
The results transformed Atlantis.
Weapons improved.
Armor improved.
Infrastructure improved.
Industry improved.
Entire sectors of the kingdom advanced decades ahead of anything found on the surface.
The Atlantean Military
Visitors often expected Atlantis's greatest strength to be its king.
They were wrong.
Its greatest strength was its people.
Every Atlantean Marine wore standardized combat armor.
Not steel.
Not enchanted iron.
Adamant.
Refined Adamant Composite Armor.
A material so expensive that most kingdoms reserved it for heirlooms and royal treasures.
Atlantis issued it to soldiers.
The armor resembled a second skin.
Flexible.
Lightweight.
Extremely durable.
Silver plating covered the body.
White runic channels flowed beneath the surface.
Blue mana currents illuminated the seams.
Every suit possessed:
Mana circulation systems.
Environmental protection.
Pressure resistance.
Communication arrays.
Emergency healing protocols.
Then came the weapons.
Tidal Edge Technology.
Every Atlantean blade contained compressed-water matrices.
When activated.
A layer of hyper-compressed water surrounded the weapon's edge.
The resulting cutting power bordered on absurd.
Steel parted effortlessly.
Stone offered little resistance.
Even magically reinforced materials struggled against prolonged contact.
No spellcasting required.
No concentration required.
Simply engineering.
And that realization terrified military analysts.
The Storm King
Within the capital.
The people had given Thalor many names.
King.
Warden.
Restorer.
The surface world preferred another.
The White-Haired Storm King.
A title born from Verendi.
Strengthened by Kolga.
And spread throughout Mogar by countless rumors.
At twenty-four years old.
Thalor stood among the most powerful beings on the planet.
Bright Violet Core.
The pinnacle of mortal magical development.
The culmination of years of hardship.
Years of study.
Years of battle.
Years of rebuilding.
Yet what impressed people most wasn't his core.
It was what came with it.
Master Warden Mage.
Master Forgemaster.
Master Light Mage.
Master Dimensional Mage.
Master Runesmith.
Master Creation Theorist.
Every specialization he had pursued.
Mastered.
Arcadia had once summarized it perfectly.
"His Majesty has completed all originally designated educational objectives."
The council had celebrated.
Then Arcadia added:
"Recommendation: Acquire new specializations."
The celebration ended immediately.
Rumors on the Surface
While Atlantis prospered.
The surface grew restless.
Stories spread across every continent.
A hidden kingdom beneath the waves.
A city of silver and blue.
Soldiers clad in Adamant.
Magical beasts swearing loyalty to a king.
Most dismissed the stories.
Until merchants began returning.
Then explorers.
Then diplomats.
Each carrying increasingly unbelievable reports.
The Kingdom of Atlantis existed.
And it was growing.
Within the Griffon Kingdom, scholars demanded contact.
Within the Blood Desert, traders demanded access.
Within the Gorgon Empire, researchers demanded information.
Within the Awakened Council, demands became increasingly aggressive.
For four years.
Atlantis ignored every request.
Not from arrogance.
Preparation.
A kingdom hidden for nearly one hundred thousand years would only reveal itself once.
Thalor intended to do it properly.
The Future
Night settled over Atlantis.
The city illuminated the darkness of the sea.
Warp Gates pulsed with activity.
Merchant vessels crossed the kingdom.
Children played within streets once abandoned for ninety-eight thousand years.
The Age of Atlantis had truly begun.
Arcadia appeared beside him once more.
"The latest diplomatic requests have been reviewed."
Several projections appeared.
Awakened Council.
Griffon Kingdom.
Blood Desert.
Gorgon Empire.
Thalor smiled.
It was finally time.
Atlantis had spent four years rebuilding.
Four years expanding.
Four years preparing.
Now the world would learn the truth.
The Kingdom Beneath the Waves was no longer a rumor.
And soon.
The surface world would come face-to-face with the civilization they had unknowingly slept above for nearly one hundred thousand years.