If this had nothing to do with the Dragon Clan, the rfolk Sovereign wouldn’t have bowed so deeply the mont the Dragon Child revealed her true form.
Even so, the King of the rfolk still dropped to one knee in solemn reverence.
’This guy’s clearly not just so random fish,’ Ethan thought, watching closely.
As that thought passed through his mind, the Dragon Child reached out and accepted a piece of bone that shimred with golden light.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. It was enormous—smooth and pale like a shard of fish bone, though sothing about its shape reminded him disturbingly of a human shoulder blade.
Don’t tell this ca from one of their own, he wondered, a chill running down his spine.
The Dragon Child studied the surface of the bone, her expression shifting as her gaze followed the faint glow crawling across it. Suddenly, she snapped her head around and locked eyes with Ethan. Her face was a mix of disbelief and alarm.
"What is it?" Ethan asked, taken aback by her reaction.
"See for yourself," she said quickly, stepping closer. She held the bone shard out toward him.
Ethan reached for it slowly. Regis and Starfall leaned in over his shoulders, their curiosity mirroring his.
At first, Ethan’s face was simply puzzled—but the longer he looked, the more his expression changed. Confusion gave way to shock, and then to sothing close to awe. Regis and Starfall were no different; both n froze, staring as if they could hardly believe what they were seeing.
Across the bone’s surface, lines of text shimred in gold. The writing wasn’t etched or painted—it was as if the words were seeping out from within the bone itself, glowing softly beneath the surface.
The ssage read:
City of the Whale Fall, Day of Revival.
The Great Calamity nears, the Whale’s Eternal Descent.
Ethereal Manifestation, the Druid God’s Claim.
He who is Ethan, Fortune shall attend.
Devour the Tribulation, a New World’s Dawn.
By the Ocean’s Power, his True Self is Vetted.
Should the Five-Colored Divine Light appear, lend him your full aid.
Purge the Unknown, eradicate the Darkness.
Restore the Order, erase the Wicked.
The aning was unmistakable. The prophecy—or whatever it was—pointed directly at Ethan.
"Where... where did you get this?"
It wasn’t Ethan who asked, but Starfall. His voice was tight, incredulous. To him, those words sounded like they were tying his son to so cataclysm waiting to unfold.
That was not sothing any father wanted to hear. No matter how gifted or powerful Ethan might be, anything described as a "Great Calamity" could only an danger—imnse, world-shaking danger.
Starfall’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t about to let his son walk blindly into that.
"Honored guest," the rfolk King said respectfully, lowering his head, "this was a gift from the rfolk Sovereign six months ago, when the City of the Whale Fall reactivated and our people awoke from the ice."
"The rfolk Sovereign? Reactivated?" Ethan echoed, catching on to the key words.
"Yes," the King replied. "The City of the Whale Fall does not remain active at all tis, nor do we rfolk dwell continually among the living. Our city only awakens when the world itself demands it."
He spoke in great detail, his tone carrying the gravity of long-kept secrets. From his explanation, Ethan and the others began to understand the history of the City of the Whale Fall—and the strange fate that bound the rfolk to it.
The city, it turned out, surfaced only during monts of great turmoil. Each reawakening heralded a crisis that would shake the world to its core.
And when that tribulation passed, the vast crystal suspended above the city would lose its brilliance. Once the light faded completely, the city would sink beneath the waves once more, swallowed by the sea and sealed in eternal frost.
The rfolk would fall into deep slumber, preserved in ice until the next catastrophe summoned them again.
This was their destiny—the endless cycle of awakening and silence that defined the fate of the rfolk Clan.
According to the King, the last ti the City of the Whale Fall had stirred was during what humans knew as the Second World War.
He expressed quiet astonishnt that the city had already reactivated again, breaking its centuries-long dormancy.
And when Ethan traced the tiline in his mind, realization struck him. The city’s awakening had occurred at the exact mont of his own rebirth.
The King went on to explain that every ti the City of the Whale Fall reawakened, the rfolk Sovereign would grant a sacred bone shard. The entire rfolk Clan was bound to follow the ssage inscribed upon it.
When Ethan asked who this mysterious Sovereign actually was, the King only shook his head—again and again.
He admitted that even though he himself had lived for countless millennia, he had never once laid eyes on the Sovereign. He was only the second King of the rfolk, ruler of the current era of the City of the Whale Fall.
And the first King, he said, had never seen the Sovereign either.
Still, he was certain that the Sovereign’s will lingered—that it continued to guide their clan from the depths of the sea, unseen yet ever-present.
Ethan found it difficult to believe. Could the rfolk truly be a race born to serve the needs of fate itself? Their reappearance in every age wasn’t random—it was to face and resolve so coming catastrophe.
History’s great river flowed endlessly onward, yet within its current, the rfolk had always been there, hidden but vital.
They never appeared in official records, but legends rembered them. The Western myth of the rmaid, for example, was nothing more than a romanticized echo of their true form.
It was clear now—they weren’t so malevolent race. Everything they had done, from the mont they found him, had been for a reason.
They had brought him here because this was the only place where the Ocean’s Power could manifest. And it was here that his "True Self" would be tested.
A sudden, uneasy thought crossed Ethan’s mind.
"Wait... what if I’m just so random guy who happens to share the na? Wouldn’t that Ocean’s Power just tear apart?"
His brow twitched as he voiced the concern aloud.
Before the rfolk King could answer, Ery Shaw spoke instead, his tone calm and reassuring.
"Ethan, you don’t need to worry about that. You’re not the first person we’ve brought here, nor the first we’ve sent away. Anyone bearing the na Ethan who cos here, even if they aren’t the one we seek, is never hard. After the verification, if they’re not the chosen one, they’re given treasures instead. The only drawback is... their mories are wiped."
Ethan blinked. "Oh? So there have been other people nad Ethan before ?"
"Yes," Ery replied with a nod. "But that stopped once the title Druid God began to spread through the world of Ethereal. That’s when our focus turned fully to you. The problem is, you’ve been as elusive as a ghost."
He smiled faintly, almost relieved. "That’s why we had to bring Lyla along this ti."
Hearing that, Ethan gave a dry laugh and exhaled through his nose. "So that’s what this is about." His tone softened, then sharpened again. "Speaking of which—where is Lyla now?"
He turned his gaze toward the rfolk King.
"Well... uh..." The King froze, his expression tightening. His voice faltered.
"Hmph. Speak," the Dragon Child snapped, sensing sothing was off.
"They were—" the Third Princess began hesitantly.
But before she could finish, a piercing sound cut through the palace.
Ah... squeak-squeak-squeak...
It echoed through the halls, sharp and rhythmic. Ethan’s eyes widened—he recognized it instantly. It was the rfolk’s ergency signal, the sa one he had heard before when danger approached.
The noise silenced the princess mid-sentence.
Around them, every rfolk turned pale. The water shimred with panic.
"What’s happening?" Ethan demanded, his voice firm. "Tell where Lyla and Astrid are—now!"
"I’m sorry!" the Third Princess cried, her voice trembling. "It’s all my fault... I secretly let them go the day before yesterday. But they were captured—by the galodon Clan!"
Her voice broke as tears stread down her cheeks. The drops crystallized midair, striking the marble floor in a soft clatter.
Clink... clink... clink...
Each tear beca a tiny pearl.
Ethan’s face darkened. "What? galodon..." he muttered, disbelief hardening into anger.
The signal outside blared louder, more urgent, more frantic.
Ah... squeak-squeak-squeak...
The call of alarm filled the palace, echoing through the depths like a warning from the sea itself.
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