Amid the open sea, the sky was as dark as night itself. Clouds towered like giants, bringing calamity to the fools who dared wander through their domains.
At the heart of the storm, a ship of monstrous proportions sailed through the raging waters.
Inside the vessel, in one of its cabins, there was a pale-skinned young man. His looks were unremarkable, marked by deep light-brown eyes, heavy dark circles, and long, wavy hair—brown as ebony.
His face, illuminated by a flickering oil lamp, rested against the small bunk as he reflected in silence.
"I wonder if we'll manage to reach the NQSC… I still feel anxious, even with Saint Bloodwave guiding this hunk of junk."
Trying to push his anxiety aside, he decided to open his runes.
Name: Eylan Kohen
True Name: Tyrant of the Unreachable Sea
Rank: Dreamer
Ocean Core: Dormant
Maritime Fragments: [12/1000]
Memories: [Necklace of the Sea]
Echoes: –
Attributes: [Distant Lands], [Mark of Divinity], [Child of the Storm]
Aspect: [Tyrant of the Storm]
"Tyrant of the Storm… I feel like I've seen that somewhere before.
Could the great Nightmare Spell actually be a master plagiarist? That'd be hilarious if it were true…"
Muttering to himself, he recalled fragments of a sweet past—a past golden like the sun. Reflecting on the meaning behind his Aspect's name, he continued examining his runes.
Aspect Rank: Divine
Aspect Abilities: [Water Control]
Aspect Ability Description:
[Your command over water is extraordinary.
It will follow you wherever you go, a truly loyal servant.]
Aspect Description:
[You are a maritime priest of a long-dead god, its fallen majesty.
As a priest of a deity who once ruled the tides, you possess mystical and wondrous powers.
However, haunted by the death of your ancestor, you are consumed by tremendous fury.
In search of a new lord. When you find one, you shall call them "My Lord," and your Wrath will be appeased.]
"I still can't believe I managed to get a Divine-rank Aspect… I didn't even kill one of the Nine!"
He thought for a moment before continuing.
"…Well, I guess you don't necessarily have to kill someone with a destined attribute to receive a Divine Aspect. Nephis just went full arsonist and got one at that level. I suppose guiding those people really was swimming against the flow of fate…"
Innate Ability: [The Great Hierarchy]
Description:
[Find a lord worthy of your abilities, one who bears greater strength, and pledge your loyalty to them.
When you recite the words, "My loyalty is yours, oh my lord," you must follow their orders and wage war in their name.
However, a master must not possess strength inferior to their servant—do not bow your head to those incapable of containing your power!]
Now this is a bit tricky… It's not on the same level as Sunny's Flaw, where just saying his True Name is enough to enslave him. But the main issue with mine is that if I don't find someone to serve, I'll suffer those explosive fits of rage every time I use my power.
'I'll have to be careful.'
After evaluating his Aspect's abilities, Eylan finally looked at his Flaw—a severe one, to say the least.
Flaw: [What was it again?]
Description:
[Your memories are blurred, details incomplete.
Forgotten knowledge may be mundane and irrelevant—or critically important.
Your memory is very poor.]
"This Flaw is going to mess me up badly… My greatest weapon here was the information from the story I had stored in my head…"
Fuuu…
Muttering to himself, Eylan reflected on the events of the past few weeks, trying to recall what had happened and identify the most important points.
I guess I'm really a mix of good and bad luck. First, I reincarnated into the body of a complete nobody who didn't even have a name—and inherited his memories…
Now that I think about it, it's strange to talk as if he were another person. Even knowing those memories aren't mine, they still feel like they are…
He felt as though they were the same person, no matter how much he wanted to distance himself from that feeling.
Returning to his recent memories, he recalled how everything had begun.
Despite that Flaw, he could still remember his First Nightmare—those memories were still fresh.
Who would've thought that a transmigrator's greatest triumph would end up dragged through the mud like this?
'Hmm… let's see, first…'
His First Nightmare had been relatively simple, yet incredibly complex. He inhabited the body of a young priest of the Goddess of Storms, a member of the clergy in a small city where everyone worshiped the Goddess of Black Skies. It was the Era of Heroes, when Hope had yet to be freed, and the empire of the Goddess of War was ravaging the temples and followers of other gods—including the Goddess of Storms herself.
As soon as he learned this, he devised a plan to lead all the believers to the Chained Isles, a region that would soon be transformed once Hope escaped.
Using the claim that the goddess had granted him a revelation, everyone followed his command. Among the people were Awakened warriors and even an Ascended captain. With the navigation skills granted by the goddess, they crossed the Stormsea.
There were dangerous moments—such as the strange fog that completely enveloped the ship. Fortunately, Eylan ordered everyone to remain inside their cabins and not come out until the fog passed.
Some, driven by curiosity, disobeyed. When the fog finally dissipated, they were gone, leaving behind only clothes scattered across the deck… as if they had been erased from the world.
Even after the Nightmare ended, the memory sent uncontrollable chills down Eylan's spine.
Argh…
A sharp headache struck him.
Still, he forced himself to keep remembering.
However, the incident only strengthened the believers' faith, and they sang praises to the goddess that very day.
'Bunch of idiots… can't they see that none of the gods ever cared about them?
Like the saying goes:
"Trust in the power of the gods, but never in their benevolence."'
The journey continued relatively smoothly—after all, it was the Era of Heroes. Few creatures could pose a real threat to Awakened soldiers and an Ascended captain.
Upon reaching the territories equivalent to the present-day Valor Clan, they learned that Nether had attacked the goddess in her divine realm and been defeated. This only further ignited the believers' faith. After months of travel, narrowly escaping the empire, they finally reached the Chained Isles and found Noctis' sanctuary. There, they settled.
They rebuilt the temple in the style of the Goddess of Storms, and weeks later held a grand prayer of gratitude. As the priest responsible for the journey, Eylan was hailed as an oracle—the goddess's mouthpiece.
At the most solemn moment, he heard a voice. An indistinguishable voice—thin and thick, light and heavy, containing all sounds.
Thus spoke the Spell:
[You have sown the word of the storm at dawn.]
[The gods are dead and cannot hear you.]
[Your soul bears the Mark of Divinity.]
[You are a priest of the Storm.]
[The Goddess of Storms stirs in her eternal slumber.]
[She sends a blessing from beyond the grave.]
[Child of the storms, receive your blessing!]
Clouds churned across the sky. Rain fell like purification. Thunder roared like the end of the world. Lightning descended like divine trees.
And at the center of it all, only Eylan remained calm.
When the ceremony ended, he felt that his task was complete. The Nightmare dissolved.
He was glad to have survived… yet saddened to leave behind the people he had fought alongside and lived with.
"Damn it, I can't believe I'm actually sad to finally leave and say goodbye to those fanatics! They'd better enjoy it while they can!"
Then the Spell whispered:
[Wake up, Eylan. Your nightmare has ended.]
[Prepare yourself for the evaluation…]