A decade had passed. A full ten years since Catherina had cimed victory over Krataigón. Her wounds had healed, but more importantly, her days had been filled with endless entertainment.

  After all, Krataigón—that stubborn, stormy idiot—had spent every single year trying to find the Lost Isnd.

  One hundred twenty-six times.

  One hundred twenty-six failures.

  And every single time, she got to watch.

  From the moment his whirlpools formed, the mist would rise like an omen, and Catherina could sense his frustration, his growing obsession, his pure dumb determination.

  “Ha-ha, sucker,” Catherina ughed, lying on a bed of mist as she watched through the ethereal veil. She propped her chin on her hands, thoroughly enjoying the show.

  Krataigón was as predictable as the tides. Raging, swearing, and trying new tactics, only to get lost and confused every time. It was like watching a poor Forest nymph trying to catch a fish in ocean.

  But, she had to admit…

  As the years passed, she noticed more things about him.

  Krataigón was tall, broad-shouldered, and powerfully built—a true god of the ocean’s chaos. His stormy-blue skin held the color of the deep sea before a storm, and his wild, foamy white hair swirled like untamed waves. His eyes, twin vortexes of navy and silver, burned with frustration every time the mist swallowed his path.

  He barely wore anything—just a kelp-like wrap around his waist, dripping wet as if he had just emerged from the heart of the ocean.

  Catherina bit her lip, amused.

  "Damn it. He’s kind of my type."

  It was an intrusive thought, but she let it stay. It wasn’t her fault that rage and stubbornness looked good on him.

  Still, she sighed. What a fool.

  If only he had been more honest with his approach toward Nancy instead of acting like a stubborn, raging god-child.

  Maybe then, things would be different.

  _________

  “Fuck that woman,” Krataigón growled, his voice rolling like thunder over the waves. “What Goddess? She’s nothing but a greedy, scheming—! ”

  The mist coiled around him again, twisting his surroundings. He snapped his fingers, commanding the currents to part, but—damn it—there it was again! The same cursed illusion, trapping him in an endless, disorienting loop.

  For ten years he had tried. For ten years he had failed.

  But he would not stop.

  His muscles tensed, his hands clenched, and he bared his teeth in frustration. The humiliation still burned from that day a decade ago.

  She had held his godhead in her hands, forced him into submission, and then had the audacity to pce a w upon his domain—her mist, now a permanent warning before his whirlpools.

  Even now, whenever he tried to summon the full force of his power, that wretched mist appeared first.

  A constant reminder of his loss.

  And yet…

  She was so damn beautiful when she smiled cruelly.

  Krataigón gritted his teeth, shoving that thought away. No. No. NO.

  There was no way he was attracted to that woman.

  ________

  The nymphs had watched this ridiculous game for years.

  Every day, Krataigón would try. Every day, he would fail.

  At first, they had been nervous, fearing he might break through. But as the years passed, his constant, pitiful attempts turned into a spectacle.

  “Did you see him yesterday?” one nymph whispered.

  “Yes! He almost got through, but then—poof!—mist swallowed him again!”

  The group giggled, watching the swirling fog in the distance.

  “But… don’t you think it’s a little sad?” another nymph murmured, gncing at Nancy.

  Nancy was silent, her soft expression unreadable. She had once been the center of this whole mess. But now… she just felt sorry for him.

  He was strong. Handsome. Powerful beyond belief.

  But also an absolute fool.

  What was he even trying to prove anymore?

  _________

  Catherina let out a slow, amused sigh.

  She stretched her arms and let herself sink into the mist, feeling the divine energy coil around her body.

  The Lost Isnd remained hidden, sealed away by her will. Krataigón could rage and fight all he wanted, but unless she allowed it, he would never find his way here.

  Still…

  It was kind of cute how he never gave up.

  Catherina chuckled to herself, closing her eyes.

  She would watch him fail again tomorrow.

  And the next day.

  And the next.

  ________

  Nancy sat on the edge of the mist-covered shore, staring at the endless waves. The air was cool, yet she felt unbearably warm. Her hands trembled as they rested against her stomach. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but she could feel it—a divine presence growing within her.

  Her breath hitched. She was pregnant.

  And not just with any child. It was Krataigón’s divine offspring.

  Nancy felt like the world had just colpsed around her. How could this happen? It wasn’t that she despised him—somewhere, deep down, she had grown to see him in a different light. He was stubborn, foolish, but also oddly persistent and strangely charming. But this?

  This was a disaster.

  Her child would be a demigod, or worse, a full-fledged deity—a being bound by divine politics, celestial ws, and the endless war of gods. What would Catherina say? Would she be angry? Would she see the child as a threat or a burden?

  Tears welled in Nancy’s eyes, but she quickly wiped them away before the nymphs could see.

  "Why do you look so pale, Nancy?" one of the younger nymphs asked, tilting her head curiously.

  "Are you feeling unwell?" another chimed in, concerned.

  The nymphs’ gentle voices swirled around her, offering warmth and comfort. They spoke of Krataigón’s devotion, his endless search, his sorrow, and how perhaps, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad as he seemed.

  Nancy forced a weak smile. "I ....... i'm fine."

  But in her heart, she knew—she was in trouble. Big trouble.