My Lord

The Banshees looked at one another, exchanging glances. A few of them gathered in a group and whispered about something.

Every so often, a few pairs of eyes would land on Theus, then quickly dart away.

Theus sighed softly. It was clear that the Banshees had truly taken his words to heart and no longer regarded him as a god.

He didn't regret it. He just felt a little... disappointed.

These Banshees could be a great help to his territory. He had plenty of problems to deal with, after all, and they were genuine Transcendent beings. He had seen them fight with his own eyes.

And besides, they had taken him for a god... A god...

Ash stood not far from Theus. His words had left her with her head bowed in thought for a long while. Now she furrowed her brow and opened her mouth as if to say something, but the complex emotions surging in her chest left her at a loss for words.

She wasn't very good with words.

Just then, a smaller figure swam over from the side. She smiled at Ash, then came to stand before Theus.

"Hello, my name is Monica." She looked at Theus.

Theus stared at the... little girl in surprise.

She seemed to be the youngest of the Banshees. Her young face still held a trace of childishness.

Her scales were emerald green, as was her hair, and her jewel-like eyes were the color of coral in shallow waters.

"You said you were a lord... I don't know much about humans on land. I don't know if this place is your territory, or whether you would take us in."

Theus's eyes lit up.

"Of course. According to my patent of nobility, half the Storm Ocean is legally my territory. Her Majesty the Empress never said whether it was the upper half or the lower half."

The patent of nobility had been deliberately worded vaguely. If he really could turn the entire Storm Ocean into Imperial territory, the Empress would grant him the title of prince before the night was out.

Ash thought it over seriously. "Then we were born as your half-subjects."

Half-subjects? What an interesting way to put it.

Theus raised an eyebrow and couldn't help laughing. "That's right."

"Surely you wouldn't refuse the loyalty of your subjects. We're the 'half-subjects' you acknowledged yourself."

"Of course not. But how can you be loyal by half?"

"From now on, we'll be loyal to you—though you never said whether it was the first half or the second half." Monica smiled slyly. "We weren't your subjects before, after all."

Theus drew in a sharp breath... of water.

This little girl sure knows how to talk someone into things. It was a shame she wasn't preaching at the Church.

The Banshees laughed, too. After Monica's ridiculous argument, the atmosphere finally lightened.

Ash, standing beside them, looked at him with bright eyes.

Theus was starting to get a headache. Why had these Banshees set their sights on him? Why did they trust him so much? First, they had decided he was the god who would save them; now they wanted to swear their loyalty to him.

Theus had noticed that after Monica jokingly said they would "be loyal to him from now on," many of the Banshees' eyes had lit up.

He didn't understand. After he had told them he wasn't a god and turned down their worship, they trusted him even more.

What Theus didn't know was that, to this world, his words—spoken to express how he truly felt—were utterly astonishing.

As a modern man, he had seen how great humanity could be in a world without gods. Naturally, he didn't think that so-called gods were all that mighty.

When he said he wasn't a god, he had felt a touch of pride—the pride of being mortal.

That slight, unconscious expression hadn't escaped the Banshees' keen senses. They could tell that Theus truly disdained becoming a god.

What kind of being could look down on gods?

The human before them was physically as weak as a fish, yet he had shown not the slightest fear. He had agreed to the Symbiotic Pact without hesitation. Though he had been raised to a divine throne, he had just as readily cast it aside, as if it were nothing more than a seashell lying on the ground.

He also possessed vast knowledge. He had casually broken a curse that had plagued their people for thousands of years.

And he was a lord, while the Banshees had no home.

The Banshees exchanged glances, and an inexplicable mood began to spread among them.

Ash sensed the change in the atmosphere, too. She hesitated, then her gaze slowly firmed. She straightened and called out loudly to those around her:

"People of our clan! It's time to make our choice. Let us join together once more!"

Then she gently closed her eyes.

Her silvery-white hair swayed softly in the water, and the Banshees closed their eyes one after another.

What are they doing? Theus glanced around curiously.

The Banshees looked solemn. Even the youngest, Monica, crossed her fingers over her chest and quietly closed her eyes.

At that moment, every Banshee had closed her eyes. But something felt off to Theus. Through the Symbiotic Pact, he sensed something strange.

It was as if the Banshees had become one.

Is this another one of the Banshees' abilities? I'll have to ask them about it when I get the chance.

He didn't have to wonder for long. Almost immediately, all the Banshees opened their eyes together.

Ash let out a long breath, her expression relaxing a little. She slowly swam over to Theus and spoke with a grave expression:

"The Banshee clan is willing to follow you and become your subjects."

Theus felt a stirring in his heart and looked around. The Banshees varied in height and appearance, but the same light shone in their eyes.

"So this is... the shared decision of all of you?"

Theus had a vague idea. The Banshees' innate ability was the Symbiotic Pact; perhaps their closing their eyes together just now had been a form of mental communication among the whole clan.

It had to be said, they were very efficient. He recalled the argument at the entrance to the Abyssal Trench. They had abided by the final decision then, too.

Ash bowed again, but this time she didn't kneel. Her silvery-white hair drifted through the water.

"We are willing to follow in your footsteps."

"This isn't because of a prophecy, tradition, or anything else. It is our own will."

She paused, as if listening to the words coming from within their minds.

"We may not yet understand all your ideals, but we can feel your will."

Theus turned to look at those around him. The Banshees met his gaze, and suddenly he seemed to understand. The Banshees didn't communicate through words alone. His struggle, his thoughts, and the unshakable resolve he'd finally reached had gradually affected the Banshees around him. Even if they couldn't understand him, they could still feel that determination.

They had chosen to trust him.

This was both an expression of their gratitude toward him and a decision they had made after considering the fate of their clan.

The Banshees were a truly wondrous race. The invisible power within their hearts gathered together, like a silent chorus. The inexplicable atmosphere made Theus feel his blood begin to boil.

Ash took a step forward.

"Your will is our fate."

"My lo... My lord."

The Banshees bowed their heads as one.

Theus stood on the ocean floor. There was no light in the deep sea, yet the Banshees' colorful scales shone like jewels beneath the sun, like stained glass in a church dome, casting a sacred and dazzling light.

How beautiful.

At that moment, those lights surrounded him, bringing warmth to the cold depths.

Theus seemed to hear countless heartbeats gradually merging into one, just like the many gazes resting upon him.

That was the power of trust.

"I understand." He straightened up.

"My name is Theus Corsica Simmons Stuart, Border Count of Castel Island in the Saint Mir Empire. By the sacred treaty and the patent of nobility granted by Her Majesty the Empress, I am the lawful lord of this place. I accept your allegiance."

"My people."

"Welcome to my territory."

Looking at the bright eyes all around him, he said softly:

"Welcome home."