There was only one piece of land in the world that could match the oddities stemming from the seas without being flooded itself.
An archipelago so vast and expansive that not even the two most powerful of the past Sea Kings who ruled over the Sea of Curses could conquer it.
Only after spending nearly twenty of his Marshal years and even three of his years as a Sea King, Orion Proximus Cosmoti liberated the endless stretch of land from the claws of monsters and criminal powers.
Naming the newly established land after himself, the Cosmoti Archipelago, he finally brought about an era of prosperity, forming a long-spanning kingdom that became the unshakable center of his power in mere two years.
However, unknown to any of the prospective rulers who had attempted to claim these islands, there was a certain altar that brought misfortune to the lands.
Buried beneath one of the nearly five thousand miniature islands was a room, housing a seal so complex that it could successfully shackle even one of the Great Ones, a Demigod of incomprehensible strength.
The third seal of Nidhogg was the source of the disasters that plagued the archipelago, and its wrath extended as far as one could see and then some.
Any who entered the waters surrounding the isles would feel the power of the seal draining their lifeforce at a dangerous speed, as a barrage of manacules ripped away their fortune, bringing about bad luck.
When a certain gambler entered the field of effect, they had lost eighteen hands in a row, eventually ending their life due to the crippling debt.
When a village sprang up, it had been mysteriously set ablaze after a rainstorm, a truly puzzling event that stumped meteorologists for decades.
And even the sole survivor of the zombified outburst that began in the late three-thousands had been struck by lightning soon after—nearly twelve times, one after another.
To any government official or external viewer, these isles could not seem like anything but the epitome of a curse.
Orion Cosmoti, on the other hand, saw them as a blessing, a place to be changed and sculpted into a world of luck where he could rule with equality and freedom.
His goals served as his motivation, a fact that had later brought him many regrets, until his eventual disappearance on Deity's Descent in July of 3125.
The green-haired King, someone blessed with great luck, had reportedly seen something peculiar during his last voyage into one of the uncharted zones at the mouth of the archipelago.
However, later on, when he attended the yearly summons to disclose his findings, he hadn't said a word of this.
And soon after that day, under the noses of every organization and superpower in the world, a group of individuals reemerged after six years of peace that followed the great war.
The Seven Head Order had, for the first time since the disappearance of the Architects, received a prophecy from their god.
It spoke of a day when the worlds would become one, the destruction of the Devil's Triangle, and the doom of the World Tree.
As such, their leader, who had been hiding in the shadows of time, Azaroth Pane, executed his plan, beginning the effort to unseal a being that would have been better left forgotten.
In one monumental attack, Sea Fallen had been besieged by three of his elites while he and Esme Blair stormed the seal on Deity's Descent.
That same day, Orion Cosmoti had arrived to perform a routine check on the island, encountering the halfling sovereign there.
When the Devil of Greed, a being formed from the wants and desires of humans, crawled forth from the Abyss and possessed Azaroth Pane's body, the battle had already been decided.
The seal was destroyed through a large-scale Erasure spell issued by the Sea King in a last effort to end the lives of his enemies.
It was certainly no coincidence that all those events aligned with each other—the chances of an inspection happening on the very same day as the destruction of the seal were nigh zero.
Therefore, something was amiss, and that something was only privy to the King of Curses himself.
…
"The Cosmoti Archipelago is too vast for us to explore, island by island, before the Abyssal Convergence begins. How do you expect them to find it?"
The voice of Azaroth Pane resounded through his own body, his consciousness pushed to the background while the Devil held control.
"Halfing… I believe you are speaking out of turn here. You are not in charge anymore, so you shall leave the decisions to me and me alone. I do not require your human input any more than I would require that of a terror."
The horned man's mouth moved in a quiet hiss, the summoned creature wielding full control over their physical body, granting it the ability to speak.
"Don't you forget who summoned you to this world, Devil. We had a deal, and I am willing to hold up my end as long as you hold up yours."
The horned man stopped where he stood, his hands gravitating towards his tie and carefully re-adjusting it.
"Of course… 'When I become an Ascendant, a separate incarnation shall be made for your spirit.' Perhaps a unicorn would suit you…"
Laughing lightly, he heard the low growl of the former host resound through his head.
"You know what I require. An ageless and perfect form that has the ability to contract with a Demigod. That was the reward for me upholding my end of the deal."
The physical form nodded slowly, acknowledging the words of Azaroth Pane, who continued speaking.
"The Nautilus Caverns are guarded by the Knights of Crimson and will not be easily sieged. How do you plan to prevent Laquis's presence from notifying Cauron Thorn or…"
He paused, an emotion of fear corroding the body of the Devil.
"You're scared? How pathetic. Even the Ancient Kings could only restrain me in the Abyss. What could Thorn even hope to accomplish if I—"
Greed was cut off by another echo inside his head, the voice of the true commander of the Seven Head Order coming through with clear discontent and concern.
"Don't you remember what happened after we merged? After the Erasure spell obliterated everything within ten kilometers, we saw it… In the sky… That turquoise beam of—"
A sharp flare of anger shot through both souls.
"Enough. There was nothing of the sort. It was simply the southern lights of the Great Beyond reflecting off the Gates of Heaven. Nothing more."
There was a long pause before another whisper came through the paired bond between the two, a quiet and fearful voice.
"But what if… You told me that story… The day that the three Ancient Kings killed the Great Southern Beast…"
Yet again, he was abruptly interrupted, a new form of rage overtaking the Devil of Greed without any restraint.
"ENOUGH! That Ghostship can't still exist. It is impossible. You will cease all talk of this immediately, or there will be consequences that you are not prepared to handle."
The horned man's face was contorted with fury, his mere presence shaking the walls of the ancient mountain cavern in the peaks of Corvassa.
"Are you that scared of its owner? It's been over eight hundred years since that battle, and you still react with such terror? Perhaps I am not the pathetic one, but rather you are."
Slamming his fist into the wall, the Devil fumed even more, and the rocks he had crushed with his hand fell away to reveal a mural.
Its intricate brushstrokes detailed a being thousands of meters tall, towering over the sea, its tentacle-covered face staring down on an island in the very center of the frame.
The man glanced at it briefly, the depiction of the Watcher making him remember his days within the Abyss as he spoke quietly.
"Me… Pathetic?"
His left cheek twitched, a vein surging beneath his flesh.
"You who wish for it all will receive nothing but suffering in the end. Your humorous goal of becoming the same as that beast we are trying to summon will fail in the end. You will be reduced to your last molecule without even a path to the Great Beyond open for you."
He sneered, pure hatred oozing out from his form.
"You are cruel and heartless enough to make a deal with a Devil, and vile enough to attempt to swindle that creature through sweet promises. You are too cowardly to face a simple Sea King, but arrogant enough to deny me my hunt of the heir of Nautilus. When the Devourer of Worlds descends onto this domain, and you pray for your miracle, there will be nothing that can be done to save you. You and your race are nothing in the face of a Demigod, and no deal could possibly save you if you decide to go against the will of your lord."
The man practically spat out the last sentence, the utter malice behind each word digging deep into Azaroth's soul regardless of how he felt internally.
This wasn't simply the words of a subordinate—this was a Devil, a creature as ancient as the human desire itself, and a beast so greedy that it would do anything in exchange for power or wealth.
"You misunderstand me, Devil. I don't care about my pitiful race that clings to the backwater towns or abandoned islands of this world."
The spirit paused, responding in a quiet voice.
"I wouldn't bat an eye if you massacred every Halfling alive. So long as I come out of this bloody war as the ruler of this fallen world, then I shall consider myself the victor, regardless of the sacrifice."
Hearing the man's words, the Devil paused before chuckling aloud and speaking in a croak.
"Perhaps you are the greedy one."