The men knelt before the golden king, trembling in the vast silence of the throne room.
The air was thick, suffocating—yet Gilgamesh sat upon his throne with unnatural calm.
Too calm.
It was worse than rage.
Beside him, Arthuria sat still, a single parchment resting in her lap—the letter from Arthur.
She had read it. She knew what they had done.
And now, so did her husband.
Gilgamesh leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his fist, his gaze studying the broken men before him like one might study insects caught in a web.
Finally, he spoke.
"Where are the survivors?"
The captain of the captured crew swallowed hard.
He didn't dare meet the king's eyes.
"T-There were none, Your Majesty…"
Silence.
Then, the king stood.
The crew flinched.
"None, you say?" His voice remained calm.
The captain paled. "It seems that since the death of Alexander the Great, Egypt has forgotten my decree. "
Gil motioned with his fingers. One of his guards stepped forward, placing a battle-worn executioner's axe into his king's waiting hand.
The captain's breath hitched.
"I was just following orders!" he stammered, voice quivering.
Gil tilted his head slightly.
Amused.
And yet, it was the kind of amusement that sent a man to his knees for the final time.
"My son once stood right where you kneel now."
Gil asked, almost idly, as he studied the weight of the axe in his hand.
The captain blinked rapidly
"I remember it like it was yesterday, " Gil smiled. It wasn't kind. "He brought the head of a friend…" He took one slow step forward. "I asked him if he thought that was justice. To take a man's life as his own, without trial. Without mercy."
The captain shook harder.
Gil met his gaze, unblinking. "Do you know what he said?" His fingers tapped against the hilt of the axe.
Shaking his head. "No… Your Majesty…"
"Hes alot like his mother, you know, says one thing…but means another, he told me tractors deserve no mercy, bti what he really meant was…"
Gil's grip on the axe tightened. "I saved him from you. "
A single scream. A single swing. And then—silence.
The captain's head rolled onto the floor, eyes frozen in terror.
Blood splattered the stone.
Gilgamesh exhaled, turning his gaze upon the rest of the trembling crew.
Their fear stank in the air.
"Go back to your lands." His voice was like steel wrapped in silk. "Tell your king what happened here. "The crew members hesitated. But one finally spoke, his voice shaking. "What about the prince?"
"What about him?" He said sternly.
The crew froze as their blood ran cold.
"He said—" one of them stammered, "he said that if he saw us on the seas again, he would destroy the ship!"
Gil chuckled. A deep, ominous sound.
He studied them for a moment longer before nodding in satisfaction.
Then, he turned—his gaze falling upon Arthuria. Who had been silently watching in satisfaction. He tilted his head slightly, golden hair falling into his sharp eyes. "What is your solution, my dear?"
She smirked, resting her chin on her hand."Then they will walk." The men looked at each other in horror. One of them dared to step forward. And that was their second mistake.
"Your Majesties, please—"
Gil's eyes twitch. "I see." He gave them a slow, understanding look. "The queen's mercy is not merciful enough for you." A pause. Then, he sighed. "Very well. Have the King's" With one sharp motion, the royal guards stepped forward, axes raised. The crew members paled, stepping back. "I hereby grant you the freedom of choice, " He watched them carefully. "What will it be? Your lives… or Your deaths?
There was no third option.
First, there was peace.
Then there was— BOOM
The ship rocked violently, throwing Arthur off balance. He slid off the wheel with a loud thud, catching himself just before hitting the floor.
"What the hell?" he grunted, shaking off the impact.
"Captain!" a crew member shouted. "Something hit us!"
Arthur gritted his teeth. "I can see that. But what—"
Another thud.
This time, harder. It can't be.
The entire ship lurched, sending men stumbling. Wood creaked. Barrels rolled. The sea howled.
Arthur had had enough.
"Cesealia!" he barked.
She was already moving. Regardless of Their Relationship status, she was the first mate. She knew what to do.
"Everyone! On the lookout! Ready the cannons! Show no fear!"
"NO FEAR!" The crew echoed back.
But then—
A scream.
THUD.
One of the men from the crow's nest lost his footing and fell.
"MAN OVERBOARD!"
Arthur spun around, eyes scanning the waves.
A splash. Then—
A shadow beneath the surface. Larger than the one he killed, which could only mean. This was the Father.
And then—nothing. Gone.
Arthur barely had time to react before Mandoriyah whispered something.
"It found me."
Arthur turned to her sharply. "What is it?"
Mandoriyah's hands trembled as she clutched her chest, her voice almost breaking.
"Megalodon." Her breath hitched. "King of the Seas."
Silence.
The entire crew stilled.
" It killed my sisters, " she said in horror
Arthur's rage flared.
First, her family.
Now, his crew?
Not happening.
His fist clenched around the wheel, and he turned to his crew.
"On my command—FIRE."
The water exploded as the megalodon burst from the depths, its massive jaws glistening with rows of deadly teeth.
A cannon fired.
Then another.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The monster roared, its massive form shaking the ship as it took a direct hit—then it disappeared beneath the waves.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of the waves slapping against the hull.
Arthur's chest heaved. He scanned the water.
Nothing.
It was gone… for now. But at what cost? He felt a hand on his back.
Cesealia.
Her touch was gentle, firm, grounding.
She didn't need to say much. She simply whispered:
"He's gone. I'm sorry."
Arthur exhaled sharply, running a tired hand through his hair.
He turned back to his crew, voice steady.
"Well done." He swallowed. "Check for external damages… and—"
He took a breath.
"Meet back here for a memorial."
A chorus of somber 'Aye, Captain's' followed.
Arthur stared at the sea one last time. He was going to kill that beast if it was the last thing he did.
The rhythmic creaking of the ship filled the silence of Arthur's cabin as he sat at his desk, absentmindedly turning a quill between his fingers. The soft flutter of wings pulled him from his thoughts, and when he looked up, Fin was perched on the windowsill, a letter clasped in his talons.
Arthur knew before he even reached for it.
Fin shook his head once.
Arthur sighed. His father hadn't written. Again.
He ran a hand down his face, pushing back the sting of disappointment before taking the letter from Fin's grasp.
The wax seal was his mother's, pressed with the emblem of the Pendragon crest.
At least she wrote.
Without a word, he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. The candlelight flickered against the ink as he read.
My dearest Arthur,
Your father handled the situation.
There were no survivors.
But I am sure with you out there, protecting the waters, this will not happen again.
I know what you are thinking. I know the thoughts that will plague you tonight—the ones about right and wrong, about the weight of justice and mercy. You are a good man, Arthur. Do not let the sins of others make you forget that.
You carry so much of your father in you. More than you realize. The way you bear responsibility, but you are also mine. Because you try to carry burdens alone.
You have my heart. My fire. My love.
And even though your father still refuses to say certain things outright, let me assure you…
He loves you very much.
I just happen to love you a thousand lives more.
With all my heart,
Your Mother
Arthur exhaled sharply, letting his head fall back against the chair.
No survivors.
He had known the sea would have taken their lives. He had expected it. Yet seeing it in ink made it real. Final.
Fin tilted his head, watching him closely.
Arthur let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "You'd think by now I'd stop expecting something different."
Fin hopped onto the desk, talons clicking against the wood. "He'll write when he's ready. Buddy"
Arthur didn't answer.
Instead, he folded the letter carefully, tucking it away as if keeping it close would somehow make the weight of it lighter.
But it didn't.
It never did.
The deck of the King of the Seas was quiet. The only sound was the gentle lapping of waves against the hull, the occasional creak of wood adjusting to the movement of the tide.
Arthur stood at the bow, his expression somber, a lantern in his hands.
The soft glow of it flickered against his features, casting shadows beneath his eyes.
Cesealia stood beside him, placing a hand under the lantern.
The entire crew had gathered, their heads bowed in solemn respect for the man they had lost.
Arthur inhaled deeply, steadying himself before speaking.
"We sail forward, but we do not forget. We carry his memory with us—on these tides, in these winds, and within our hearts."
His grip on the lantern tightened.
"May the stars guide him to peaceful waters."
Slowly, they released the lantern, watching as it floated into the night sky. Her fingers lingered as if she could still hold on.
For a moment, nothing else existed but the quiet glow of the two lights, rising higher, carried by the sea breeze.
Then Mandoriyah stepped forward.
She knelt at the edge of the deck, placing her hands over the water. The surface trembled beneath her touch, a pulse of soft magic rippling outward.
Then—light.
A school of glowing fish materialized from the depths, swirling beneath the ship in a breathtaking display. Their iridescent bodies shimmered in the darkness, illuminating the sea in waves of blue and gold.
The water itself began to rise, lifted gently by Mandoriyah's power, forming a spiraling current that wrapped around the ship, encasing it in a gentle, ethereal glow.
Arthur and the crew could only watch in awe.
"This," Mandoriyah whispered, her voice reverent, "is what we do for the dead."
Arthur lowered his head, bowing slightly in gratitude.
One of the crew reached forward, hesitantly dipping their fingers into the water—only for the glowing current to splash delicately against their face, before dispersing back into the sea.
Gravity, after all, was still a thing.
Arthur let out a small chuckle.
The crew joined in, murmuring their thanks to Mandoriyah as they watched the mesmerizing scene unfold.
Cesealia exhaled, turning to Arthur. "You should rest."
"I'm fine, " Arthur shook his head. "You go."
She studied him for a moment. "Do you want me to go?"
He didn't answer.
Once again, they found themselves locked in yet another silent battle.
Arthur turned away, gripping the railing as if it wasn't hard enough, his heart didn't seem to beat unless she was near, and when she was. Oh, did it beat.
Cesealia sighed. "You keep avoiding me."
"I'm not—"
"You are."
Arthur closed his eyes. And did that breathing exercise his mother taught him. In and out.
Cesealia reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together.
"Don't shut me out," she whispered.
The tension simmered for a moment—then, just as quickly as it came, it dissipated.
Arthur exhaled, squeezing her hand once before finally looking at her.
For now, this was enough.
The night carried on, the moon shining over the ship as they continued their journey—one step closer to bringing Mandoriyah home.
Then he will fight like hell for his.