Elizabeth knelt beside the basin first.
She dipped her fingers into the glowing water, hesitated, then brought a few drops to her lips.
Evelyn followed a second later.
They both exchanged a look.
"It tastes…" Elizabeth began.
"…like water," Evelyn finished.
There was no sweetness, no surge of energy, no sudden miracle. Just cool, clean water.
Jack stepped forward, scooped some up with theatrical anticipation, and took a careful sip.
He paused.
Swallowed.
"…Yes," he said slowly. "Hydrating. Very hydrating."
The glow still shimmered beneath the surface, the ruins still felt ancient and sacred—but the water itself was ordinary.
Disappointment settled quietly.
Daniel, however, wasn't looking at the fountain.
His attention had shifted to the far side of the ruins, where something faint flickered near a cracked pillar overgrown with vines. A small shard of dim light pulsed weakly, almost invisible unless one knew to search for it.
"There you are," he murmured.
He stepped closer.
The fragment lifted from the stone the moment he approached, drifting toward him as if recognizing its owner. It dissolved into his chest in a thin streak of light.
A familiar system prompt formed in his mind.
[Fragment Recovery Successful]
[Congratulations. You have obtained a Keystone.]
[Uses: Can repair incomplete objects, abilities, or structures.]
[Limitations: One-time use. Cannot be applied to high-tier divine constructs.]
Daniel's expression shifted slightly.
"A keystone…" he muttered under his breath. "Repair incomplete things."
His thoughts turned inward.
His Demi-god status.
Not whole. Not complete.
He could feel it—power immense, but fractured. Something missing at the core.
'Let's see,' he thought calmly. 'If this can make me a full god.'
He focused.
[Keystone applied to Demi-god Status]
[Authority elevated: Demi-god → God of Death]
[Authority over the dead: Increased]
[Death energy output: Enhanced]
[Primary weapon ascended: Sword of Death → Divine Weapon: Scythe of Death]
[Effect: Capable of slaying gods upon decapitation]
The notifications faded.
Daniel stood still.
The transformation was not violent. There was no explosion of light, no thunder tearing through the ruins.
Instead, it was internal—precise and absolute. The fractures within his power sealed seamlessly. Where there had once been gaps, there was now structure.
"Well," he said calmly, almost to himself, "this trip wasn't a waste after all."
Jack stared at him for a long second. "I assume that means we're not the ones being sacrificed to activate anything?"
"No," Daniel replied.
"Is… I have a doubt," Elizabeth said slowly, still looking at the glowing basin. "Does drinking this water give you immortality?"
Daniel shook his head.
"No. It's not that simple. This water by itself doesn't grant immortality, youth, or extended life."
Evelyn frowned slightly. "Then what is all this?"
"It's a ritual site," Daniel replied calmly. "The Fountain isn't a miracle spring. It's part of a transfer."
Jack tilted his head. "Transfer sounds suspicious."
"It should," Daniel said.
He stepped closer to the basin, gesturing lightly toward the cups in his hand. "To activate it properly, you need three things: the two chalices of Ponce de León, mermaid tears, and a sacrifice."
Tamara's eyes narrowed at the mention of mermaids.
"First," Daniel continued, "you fill both cups with water from the Fountain. In one of the cups, you add mermaid tears."
Jack raised a brow. "That seems unnecessarily specific."
"It is," Daniel said. "The person who drinks from the cup without the tear will lose their remaining lifespan. The person who drinks from the cup containing the mermaid tear gains it."
Elizabeth's expression darkened. "So it doesn't create life."
"No," Daniel said quietly. "It redistributes it."
Evelyn looked back at the shimmering water with new understanding. "It's murder."
"Exactly," Daniel replied. "One life extended at the cost of another."
Jack stared at the basin thoughtfully. "So all the legends about eternal youth…"
"Are built on someone else's death," Daniel finished.
***
After returning, they stayed in Port Royal for a few days.
The harbor bustled as usual—ships docking, sailors shouting, merchants arguing over cargo. To most people, it was an ordinary colonial port. To Tamara, it was overwhelming.
She hated the noise.
She hated the smell.
Food helped.
Daniel made sure of that.
At first, Tamara refused anything that looked too "civilized." She would stand stiffly while plates were set before her, suspicious of sauces and spices. But hunger, again, was consistent.
Roasted meat replaced raw flesh.
Grilled fish replaced struggling prey.
Slowly, she stopped comparing every bite to what she once hunted beneath the waves. Cooked meat had depth—flavor layered by fire. It did not fight back. It did not taste of panic and saltwater.
To her quiet irritation, she preferred it.
She did not admit that openly.
But she ate every portion.
Tamara shot him a glare sharp enough to cut rope. "Do not speak as if you own me."
He didn't look bothered. "You're still angry."
"I was dragged from my sea. Forced into cloth. Threatened with… spanking." She said the last word like it was an insult she still hadn't decided how to categorize.
Daniel shrugged. "And yet you're still here."
Tamara folded her arms but did not leave.
She remained angry at him—for the capture, for the humiliation, for the way he treated danger like a game.
But she stayed.
And when food was placed before her, she ate it without complaint.
*****
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