"Namor, forget it, forget it … you can get the weapon back later!"

  Sebastian dragged Namor, who was dying and kept mumbling 'Trident,' back to the submarine.

  "Get the Atlanteans on the line. We can't stop Superman!"

  He shook Namor, who had a sad look in his eyes, and told the boy to wake up and stop thinking about Neptune's Trident.

  The depth limit of the submarine is 320 meters, so it might not be able to escape Superman's eyesight.

  When the time came, if he caught up, members of the Hellfire Club, who had no natural ability to breathe underwater, may face the end of the group.

  "Mr. Shaw, you're right."

  Realizing the threat of death, Namor temporarily puts aside his beloved trident.

  The weapon means as much to him as the Mjölnir Hammer does to Thor, and it carries with it an inseparable feeling.

  "I'll get it back —— back to Atlantis first."

  Covering his bleeding chest, the young King obeyed his inner will and emitted a special sound that called out to the creatures of the deep.

  "You seem to have been left behind, my friend."

  Luke, caught off guard by the Heat Vision, looked at the tornadoes rotating at high speed on the sea and stirred up a smile on his lips.

  "Sebastian Shaw had escaped with Namor."

  Riptide, who had somehow been left behind, froze for a moment and found the submarine had disappeared.

  This is wrong!

  Isn't my task to interfere with Superman's vision and create chaos?

  Where is everyone?

  All of them ran away?

  How could such an obvious submarine disappear so quickly?

  A series of question marks emerged from Riptide's head. His high-speed rotating body suddenly stopped.

  The young mutant, who just reacted, directly manipulated the airflow to form a whirlwind that carried him away quickly.

  It would be a fool's errand to stay and fight Superman!

  "You want to leave now? Too late."

  Luke held the trident in his hand and narrowed his eyes to confirm the target.

  Just like throwing a javelin, it shot out in a straight line.

  Whoosh!

  The atmosphere exploded.

  A golden shadow, like a flash of lightning, directly hit Riptide, who was running away.

  "I'll consider this as finding experimental material for Dr. Trask."

  Luke dived down and caught Riptide, who was skewered by the trident.

  "Don't let me down, Sebastian Shaw. With your ability to make things happen, you should have no problem creating a war."

  The young Major General stood at the surface of the sea and looked down.

  The U-shaped submarine drifted underwater, but the command module was empty.

  …


  …


  Atlantis, Poseidonia.

  Namor, who was seriously injured, climbed out of the large nutrition pool.

  He had been in a coma for 4 hours, and his naked body was covered in the sticky nano-dissolving solution.

  The ferocious wound on his chest healed initially, with only a slight feeling of dull pain.

  The thought of his beloved trident falling into the hands of a landlubber, being played with, touched, and used, made Namor angry.

  "Your Majesty, your injury hasn't fully healed, don't get agitated."

  The medical officer advised.

  Neptune's Trident is an artifact from Atlantis and a symbol of kingship.

  The surface is engraved with magical runes that influence the weather and will cause electric shock damage when it strikes a person.

  Even Namor, who is far superior in physical quality and extremely strong in vitality, was almost killed instantly.

  "Where are my invited guests?"

  Namor ignored the medical officer, frowned, and asked.

  "They … are staying in the water prisons."

  The medical officer replied hesitantly.

  "Elder Raman said that they were land people and had to be watched as they entered Atlantis as intruders."

  Namor grimaced and said nothing.

  With anger rising, there was also an obvious pain in his chest.

  "Take me to the water prisons."

  He squeezed the words out between his gritting teeth.

  Twenty minutes later, the Hellfire Club, wearing breathing equipment, appeared in the Assembly Hall.

  Namor leaned back on his throne and looked down on the robed nobles from above.

  "You imprisoned my compatriots, my guests, and claimed that it was for the safety of Atlantis."

  His tone was cold, tinged with a trace of anger.

  "Yes, Your Majesty. Over the years, no land people had ever set foot in our country, let alone entered the capital Poseidonia and stood in the Assembly Hall."

  A robed nobleman raised his head and spoke without fear.

  "This is a violation of tradition and an overreach. The elders couldn't just stand by and watch you make a mistake, so they stopped it —— it was our duty as well."

  Namor pursed his lips. His eyes became even colder.

  He lost Neptune's Trident, which shook his unstable throne.

  Namor, whose emotions fluctuate violently, suppressed his inner anger and slowly said, "I am the King of Atlantis. And yet my subjects don't give half the respect I deserve, is that not a kind of overreach?"

  "Your Majesty, in the history of Atlantis, there has never been a mixed-race King, and there has never been a King who lost his trident and escaped a battle."

  Another noble stood up.

  When the layer of respect between ruler and subject was removed, all that remained was naked contempt and rejection.

  "Very good."

  The angry Namor stood up and loudly said,

  "Because I don't have blue skin like yours, I am regarded as a 'bastard' and an 'outsider.' Even the teachers in charge of royal education were unwilling to talk to me, and the high priest even advised my grandfather to expel me."

  "My mother, a royal princess, lived a luxurious life since childhood. To protect me, she had to hide in the slum, suffering from the environment and cruel life."

  "I have been ridiculed and bullied more than any of you since I was a child. They have taught me to keep my distance from other people to avoid getting hurt, and they have shown me that humanity is terrible, which has nothing to do with color and race."

  "You're not noble. Atlanteans are no different from land dwellers; they are as narrow and selfish … Ah no, land-dwellers at least know how to study."

  "When they were still drilling for fire, Atlantis was already studying the use of ocean resources, but now they are learning to control nuclear energy, and you are still stuck in the tradition of 10,000 years ago, clinging to it."

  "What ancestral rules.?! You're just scared by the gods and immortals, so we hide at the bottom of the sea and dare not go out."

  Namor walked down the steps as he spoke.

  "Your Majesty, do you know what you are talking about?"

  A robe aristocrat asked angrily.

  "Of course, I know."

  Namor covered his chest and coughed twice.

  His other hand quickly reached out and lifted the other person.

  "You may not know, but the color I hate most is blue!"

  Crack!

  His five fingers closed together, and his arm swelled with power.

  The robed aristocrat's neck tilted to one side and his eyes wide open. At his dying breath, he still couldn't believe that Namor would take action against him.

  "Look how stupid it is. Kings can't execute nobles … Take these rules with you to the God of the Sea."

  Namor laughed sarcastically and began an unprecedented slaughter.

  Those guards outside heard the sound and broke into the council chamber, but they could only stare in disbelief.

  Because according to the rules, any actions against the King were equivalent to rebellion.

  Sebastian, as a bystander, had a satisfied smile on his face while wearing the breathing device.

  He glanced quietly at the White Queen and spoke in a voice only she could hear, "Well done."

  The latter was calm as if she hadn't done anything.

  Hatred blinded Namor's eyes. If he could calm down and think carefully:

  With the strength of the Hellfire Club, could Atlantis soldiers put them in jail?

  Moreover, if the robed noblemen of the Council of Elders wanted to turn against them, they should have created a public outcry to draw a public opinion.

  Instead of provoking the King without any preparation.

  A few minutes later, when the massacre was over, the bodies of aristocrats and nobles were lying in the hall.

  Sebastian asked in a deep voice, "Your Majesty, what should we do next?

  Wiping the blood from his hands, Namor felt like he had laid down a big stone weighing on his heart, and his whole body became much lighter.

  He went up the steps and took the throne, saying a word for word, "War. Give the land world a war."