Chapter 91: The Sea Emperor’s Fangs

Other Dimension

Garon drifted in the other dimension, all sense of time and space vanished entirely. He had no idea how long he had been floating. At first, he tried to escape, but no matter how many times he used the Golden Triangle Dimension, it was utterly useless.

Eventually, he realized that he now existed only as a soul.

“Truly worthy of being my brother’s disciple…” A sense of relief came over Garon, and he thought of his brother Saga—the warm, caring brother who had always protected him. If they hadn’t become Saints, perhaps the two of them would have lived peaceful lives together.

"Garon, I know your heart. Deep down, you are still a Saint of Athena..."

A voice sounded in his ear, filling him with excitement, but then he retorted angrily, “Alex, don’t think you can make me betray the Sea Emperor! Never!”

The voice faded away. Garon drifted on, time losing all meaning, and boredom set in—an unbearable, agonizing boredom. His soul could not move, yet his mind was painfully alert; it was sheer torment.

“Alex, just say something!” he cried.

Still, there was no answer.

“Alex…”

He lost all track of time. On the verge of madness, at last the voice spoke again.

“Garon, I’ll ask you one more time—are you willing to return to being a Saint?”

“Alex, there’s no turning back for me now. You can’t imagine how terrifying the Sea Emperor is!”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Again, the voice vanished, nearly driving Garon insane. He shouted, “Alex! The Sea Emperor is not Julian—it’s the Sea Emperor from another timeline, one who defeated Athena and the Lord of the Underworld!”

“What?!”

The revelation was startling beyond words—unbelievable, even. For in any version of the story, the Sea Emperor had never triumphed.

“Are there still only seven Generals?”

Feng Zhe asked the crucial question, but the nearly unhinged Garon replied, “There are only seven Generals, but they wear the True Scales!”

“The True Scales?!”

A concept from fan fiction sprang to mind—the notion of the True Scales. Legend had it that, in ancient Atlantis, the armor forged by alchemists serving Poseidon existed in its true form, a weapon to rival the original Gold Saints and the first generation of Underworld Warriors. Yet with Atlantis’s fall, the ultimate armor disappeared from the world.

Now, not only was the Sea Emperor fully awakened, but he had also bestowed the True Scales upon the seven Generals. His intentions were all too clear.

“The ultimate Holy War, then?!”

Unlike Hades, whose underworld forces posed a threat, the Sea Emperor had always been suppressed by Athena—his soul sealed within the Urn of Athena, his forces no match for the Sanctuary. But then Feng Zhe considered another problem. “Your own Sea Dragon True Scale—why didn’t it appear just now?”

Garon answered, “The True Scales have harsh requirements. The seven Generals are not yet strong enough to don them. That’s why I came here to train, and the North Atlantic Pillar below aids my cultivation!”

Yearning to elevate his cosmos, Garon found the best method was within the Sea Realm itself.

Once he understood, Feng Zhe said, “You may continue your training here in the Sea Realm. But when the Holy War arrives, what path will you choose? I hope you will decide wisely.”

In an instant, Garon returned to his body.

He breathed fresh air again, felt the sunlight, and even the grass seemed fragrant. Overcome by emotion, Garon began to cry, dropping to his knees as tears streamed down his face.

When his tears subsided, Feng Zhe was gone. Garon murmured, “Next time I see you, I will defeat you.”

Sanctuary, Pope’s Palace

The reason Feng Zhe released Garon was a source of inner conflict. He sensed that Garon was not so simple, and this decision might one day bring unimaginable harm—perhaps even regret. But Feng Zhe let him go, believing that whatever heights Garon reached, he himself would always surpass him. He had that much confidence.

The shadow Feng Zhe left within Garon’s heart, however, would likely linger no matter how far Garon advanced—even if he achieved the Eighth Sense.

“Your Holiness, the Celestial King’s Seat, Alubio, has arrived.”

After several days of rest, Alubio’s injuries had healed. So as soon as Feng Zhe returned, he summoned him without delay.

Alubio stood nearly six foot three, with long golden hair and strikingly handsome features. He knelt before Feng Zhe and declared, “Alubio of Fairy Island humbly repents before Your Holiness and is willing to accept punishment.”

After the Saga Rebellion, many powerful Saints fled the Sanctuary to avoid its chaos; the most notable among them were the Saints of Fairy Island.

As the leader, Alubio of the Celestial King’s Seat was considered a top Silver Saint—perhaps even approaching Gold. It was this strength that allowed him to disregard the Sanctuary’s commands.

“Why did the Sea Emperor seek to destroy you?”

As soon as Feng Zhe asked, Alubio produced a special mineral that radiated a soft, white glow.

“This mineral is unique to Fairy Island. Thanks to it, the island flourished and provided a refuge for Saints in need.”

At the mention of sanctuary, Alubio glanced at Feng Zhe, but seeing no dissatisfaction, he relaxed.

“A month ago, a man calling himself Clausius, Prince of the Sea Emperor, demanded the mineral and tried to drive us out. We refused, and a battle broke out. Fairy Island is our home—how could we hand it over? But his strength was overwhelming. We were no match and locked in a desperate struggle. If not for Your Holiness’s intervention, we would have been annihilated.”

After Alubio finished, Feng Zhe murmured, “Clausius, Prince of the Sea Emperor!”

Another of the Seven Generals. Clearly, the Sea Emperor’s fangs were growing restless.

Feng Zhe then pardoned Alubio and ordered him to train new Saints alongside Guludi of the Furnace Seat.

With a blink, Feng Zhe vanished from the Pope’s Palace.

When he reappeared, he was already on Fairy Island.

The island was now deserted. Only a half-naked Indian yogi sat cross-legged atop the mineral, absorbing natural energy.

Unlike Shaka of Virgo, this Prince of the Sea Emperor was much darker in complexion, resembling a mendicant ascetic from India. He floated in midair, his breath and aura barely perceptible.

The Prince did not open his eyes, nor did he pay Feng Zhe the slightest attention, continuing to hover in the air.

Triple Light-Speed Fist!

Three figures surrounded the Prince, unleashing simultaneous blows at the speed of light. In an instant, countless light-speed punches landed on him.

This Triple Light-Speed Fist was inspired by Garon’s Golden Triangle, its power tripled and truly astonishing.

Caught off guard, the defensive wall of energy around the Prince was shattered, and he was knocked to the ground.

“You actually broke my seven chakras!”

The Prince’s energy wall was said to be indestructible, the mysterious natural force enveloping him at all times. Even Gold Saints were believed incapable of breaking it.