Reincarnated As Poseidon

The ocean roared like a living beast, waves slamming against jagged cliffs with bone-crushing force. The moon's silver reflection danced on the water's surface, yet deep beneath those shimmering ripples, something darker stirred — something ancient, relentless, and bound by the will of the Sea King himself.

Poseidon stood at the edge of the stone pier, his trident gripped tightly in his hand. Salt-sprayed wind whipped at his hair, tangling it like strands of black silk. The air carried a metallic tang — the taste of coming bloodshed. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, where the endless expanse of sea merged with the void of night.

His enemies were not yet here, but he could feel them. The whispers of the tides spoke of ships cutting through the water, their hulls carrying warriors, weapons, and a single goal — to see him dethroned.

The Sea God closed his eyes briefly, letting his senses stretch beyond the mortal plane. The heartbeat of the ocean thumped in rhythm with his own, and within that unity, he found clarity.

"They think they can take the sea from me…" his thoughts curled like thunder in his mind. "They think they can chain its fury and bend it to their will… They know nothing of what waits beneath."

A voice broke his focus — deep, rough, and edged with unease.

"My lord," murmured Nerion, his most trusted commander, stepping forward from the shadows. The scales along his forearms caught the moonlight, and his eyes were pools of molten silver. "They will arrive within the hour. Reports say they have invoked the Blessing of the Stormcaller. Their fleet sails under unnatural winds."

Poseidon did not turn. "Unnatural winds die just as easily as mortal lungs."

Nerion hesitated. "And if the prophecy is true? If the one leading them is the 'Breaker of Tides'…?"

At that, Poseidon turned his head, his gaze cutting through the darkness. His eyes glowed faintly — the glow of abyssal depths that had swallowed countless souls. "Then I will show him that even breakers drown when they face the deep."

Thunder rolled far in the distance, not from the sky, but from the ocean itself.

---

Far out at sea, lanterns swung wildly on the decks of a dozen warships. Massive sails strained under gales that seemed to push them faster and faster toward the waiting shores of Poseidon's domain. At the lead was a black-keeled flagship, its bow carved into the shape of a serpent's head.

On that deck stood a figure clad in barnacle-stained armor, the so-called Breaker of Tides, Kael Dravos. His eyes burned with the promise of conquest.

"Hold the course!" he bellowed over the wind. "We strike before dawn, while the god still dreams!"

But Poseidon was no dreamer.

---

Back on the pier, the waves began to shift, rising higher, their movements unnatural and deliberate. From the depths came the silhouettes of sea beasts — leviathans, krakens, and ancient predators long thought to be myths. Their eyes reflected devotion and hunger, all under Poseidon's command.

"You've felt it, haven't you, Nerion?" Poseidon's voice was low but carried like a current. "The ocean grows restless… it wants blood."

"Yes, my lord," Nerion said, kneeling. "But we have not yet seen the full strength of their magic."

"They have not yet seen the full strength of mine."

With a twist of his trident, Poseidon struck the stone beneath his feet. The sea responded instantly, surging upward in a spiraling wall, reaching toward the heavens. Within the column of water, shadows twisted — the outlines of titanic serpents and armored merfolk battalions.

"Tonight," Poseidon declared, "the tides will not retreat. They will take."

---

When the first enemy ship pierced the mist, its crew saw nothing but calm waters ahead. The storm that had carried them here faded, replaced by an eerie stillness. Sailors exchanged uneasy glances.

Then, without warning, the sea beneath them dropped.

The flagship tilted sharply as the water itself was pulled away, forming a sudden chasm in the ocean. From the abyss, a colossal shadow emerged — the head of a leviathan, jaws wide enough to swallow a ship whole.

Cries rang out, weapons were drawn, but it was too late. The creature struck, splintering wood and sending men screaming into the dark.

On the shore, Poseidon lifted his trident high, his voice carrying over the chaos. "Let them taste the hunger of the deep!"

Wave after wave of monstrous sea creatures surged forward, tearing through the enemy fleet. The air was filled with the smell of salt, blood, and burning pitch as the invaders fought desperately against a force that could not be slain.

Kael Dravos leapt from his deck, landing atop the head of a smaller serpent, slicing its eye with his blade. His voice rose above the din. "POSEIDON! Face me!"

The Sea King's lips curled into a cold smile. With one step, he was gone from the pier, vanishing into a burst of seawater — reappearing on the wreckage of a broken mast just yards away from Kael.

The two locked eyes, and the world seemed to still.

"You've brought your storm," Poseidon said, his trident lowering into battle stance. "I'll return it to you… in pieces."

---

What followed was a clash that shook the ocean itself. Kael's blade sang with lightning, every strike sending arcs of energy across the dark waves. Poseidon moved like the tide — sometimes unstoppable, sometimes slipping just out of reach, only to return with crushing force.

Water rose in towering walls, only to be sliced apart by Kael's storm-forged steel. Thunder and water roared together, a duel of godly wrath and mortal defiance.

But Kael's power, though fierce, was burning too quickly. Every strike drew more from the unnatural winds that had carried him here, and those winds were weakening. Poseidon's domain was reclaiming its balance — and its fury.

In one final movement, the Sea King thrust his trident forward, the ocean itself following in a spiraling torrent. It struck Kael square in the chest, sending him crashing back into the wreckage of his flagship.

The waves closed in around him, and the sea went still again.

---

As the sun began to rise, only drifting debris remained of the invading fleet. Nerion approached his lord, kneeling.

"It is done," he said.

Poseidon looked out at the endless water, his gaze unreadable. "No… it has only begun. The Breaker of Tides has seen my strength. He will return — and when he does, the sea will be ready."

The tide lapped gently at the shore, but beneath that calm, the deep waited — patient, watchful, and loyal only to its king.