The Demon Queen's Royal Consort

The vessel continued its course along the calm waters of the delta. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the hull, the soft wind caressing the sails, and the murmurs of the crew made the crossing almost poetic. It was the kind of tranquility that invited daydreaming, introspection, the false illusion of safety.

But Atlas never let anyone forget where they were.

The sky changed.

First came gray clouds forming in the distance, pulled from nothing. Within minutes, the golden sunlight was replaced by a restless twilight, heavy as the silence before a calamity. A thunderclap tore through the sky, and with it, scarlet rain began to fall—not blood, but something similar in color and density, dripping like an omen.

The ship’s wheel turned with urgency. Sailors shouted orders. The Church’s mages took their positions. The river, once as gentle as a serene lake, began to stir. Waves three meters high rose without natural logic, as if the river itself was trying to cast them out.

Here was a curious fact about this world: in Atlas, even the ocean was an incredibly deadly enemy.

Dungeons, which appeared like magical tumors distorting the world, were not limited to solid ground. Rivers, lakes, and seas could also birth these anomalies. But there was a difference: while land dungeons could be explored, conquered, and overcome... underwater dungeons were untouched territory. Uncharted.

A nightmare even the greatest nations dared not face.

Like those universally hated water levels in every adventure game—always the hardest, always the most unfair. Now imagine that... on a real-world scale. With hundreds of lives at stake. With monsters that defied every known logic.

Something emerged from the depths.

It couldn’t be seen clearly. Only its consequences.