Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 112: Naga Siren

Nolan turned to Lirazel, the weight of his own breath pressing tight against his ribs. "When will it happen?" he asked, voice dry, the question hanging in the heavy air of the dungeon like a blade poised to fall.

Lirazel didn’t answer. Her lips parted slightly, her pupils dilated, and just as she opened her mouth to speak—

The first egg twitched.

It wasn’t a normal twitch. It rippled.

A slow, eerie undulation spread across the surface of the shell like a wave over water.

"Huh?" Nolan exclaimed.

Deep within it, that same glistening membrane began to throb with a ghostly blue hue, soft at first, like moonlight through glass.

Then brighter. Brighter.

A glint of silver sparkled from within, flickering through the cracks like stars blinking into life.

Nolan’s eyes widened. "What the—"

The egg shook again.

"I–uh..." Nolan muffled.

More violently.

A pulse of cold, wet mana flooded outward.

It smelled like saltwater and ozone, and a sound—not a roar or a screech, but something deeper, like the haunting echo of a whale song—trembled through the stone.

Then came the aura.

Aquatic magic, impossibly dense, spilled from the egg like the breath of the sea itself.

It wrapped around Nolan like coils of pressure, like the deep ocean wrapping its arms around his body.

He staggered backward, chest tightening as if water were already seeping into his lungs.

The atmosphere itself became fluid, humid, saturated. The temperature dropped instantly, and mist began to pour out from beneath the egg, covering the dungeon floor in a creeping tide of cold fog.

"Lirazel, can you tell me now what this means? Is it hatching? Why is the dungeon den moving?" Nolan gasped, stumbling slightly. "Lirazel?!"

Still no answer.

The egg convulsed again. .

A spray of translucent liquid—thick like jelly, shimmering with phosphorescent runes—splashed out in all directions.

The shell cracked in five directions at once.

Nolan’s hand twitched.

His fingers hovered just above his chest, where he could activate it—his ’Internet Cheat Data’ ability.

A cascade of indexed mana knowledge, digitized metaphysics, encyclopedic descriptions of spells, monsters, even dungeon mutation phenomena. All there, ready to be summoned in a thought.

He wanted to use it.

Desperately.

But he stopped.

He grit his teeth.

Instead, he turned his gaze to Lirazel, hoping she would say something—anything.

She didn’t.

Instead, she knelt, clutching her forehead, mumbling to herself, trying to process the energy shift. She was as confused as he was—but even more afraid.

And then the cracking began in earnest.

Long fractures split the egg with a sound like glass under ice.

The dungeon floor beneath it began to... twist.

The tiles warped, buckled, and then dissolved.

A deep groan, like tectonic plates grinding against one another, shuddered through the entire chamber.

Water exploded from the base of the egg.

Not spilled water.

Sprouting.

As if the egg were a geyser, a massive plume of liquid surged upward in a spiral, splashing the obsidian stone and instantly flooding the entire central pit.

The ground trembled beneath Nolan’s feet, not just from impact—but from change.

The dungeon floor itself was shifting.

He lost his footing.

The perfectly carved stonework splintered, and a rift split open beneath him. He barely leapt aside as a chunk of earth collapsed inward, swallowed by a sudden lake forming at the dungeon’s center.

The old den was disappearing, and something new was being born—an arena, a spawning pool, a new biome.

"Lirazel!" Nolan shouted, struggling to keep his footing as another tremor rippled through the changing terrain. "What the hell is this?!"

But Lirazel was already by his side.

She wrapped her arms under his shoulders and lifted—her wings flaring open wide, beating hard against the collapsing airspace.

"Master, be careful!" she shouted over the roar. "Don’t get caught in the restructuring! The floor is syncing with the spawn—!"

Nolan gasped as they soared over a ruptured pillar.

Below them, chunks of ancient stone and scorched obsidian tiles fell into what now looked like a subterranean reef, glowing softly with aquatic runes.

The terrain was no longer static. It pulsed, like the ocean, rising and falling rhythmically as if it breathed.

Lirazel dropped him onto a platform that had yet to shift and hovered beside him.

Nolan didn’t ask questions anymore.

He just stared.

Because now, the three eggs were gone.

Not missing. Open.

Shattered.

Their thick, reinforced membranes were peeled apart from within, like fruit hollowed out from the core.

The remains were scattered across the water, their hardened shells bobbing amidst the glowing foam.

The mist had thickened, and from its center...

She emerged.

At first glance, Nolan thought she was just a child.

A girl, no older than five, her upper body human—pale, glistening, almost translucent under the magical light. Her hair flowed down her back in rippling waves of silver-blue, and tiny fin-like ridges curled from her temples where ears should be.

Her eyes, large and luminous, were solid pools of aquamarine without pupils. She was utterly, completely naked—but her lower half was no human child’s.

From her waist down, she was serpentine.

A long, scaled tail extended from her hips, thick and powerful, coiling and unwinding through the water like a ribbon of living silver.

The texture was almost ethereal, scales shifting in hue between violet and cobalt. It shimmered with mana as if woven from the ocean’s own fabric.

Nolan’s jaw slackened. "That’s..."

Behind her, the water began to swirl again.

Two shapes emerged—twins, but not human.

Long, eel-like bodies surfaced and rose like serpents from the abyss.

Each one was twice the girl’s size, but clearly deferential, swimming in smooth arcs around her like silent guardians.

One was pitch black, its scales dull and void-like, absorbing light.

The other was pearlescent white, glowing faintly with radiant sparks.

Their heads were draconic—small horns, long snouts, eyes filled with thought.

They circled the siren like moons orbiting a star.

And then the absurd happened.

The Naga Siren child blinked slowly.

She looked upward toward the ceiling of the dungeon, her expression blank.

Then... her body began to shift.

It wasn’t metamorphosis like shedding a skin or casting a spell.

It was fluid, seamless, a gradual elongation of limbs, a maturing of form that flowed like an orchestral crescendo.

Her arms grew longer, her torso stretched, and curves began to emerge along her frame with the poise of nature unfolding.

Her facial features matured, becoming sharper, more defined, yet retaining an otherworldly beauty that was still... not human.

Her hair grew, cascading down past her waist, as her tail expanded in length and mass, becoming more regal, more weaponized in shape.

Fins bloomed along its edge like plumage, and runes began to etch themselves along her skin, glowing faintly. Her eyes narrowed, and for the first time, she blinked with intent.

She had become a teenager.

Maybe fourteen or fifteen by appearance, but undeniably ancient in presence.

Nolan took an unconscious step back.

He didn’t even notice Lirazel gripping his wrist, as if needing to assure herself he was still real.

The siren’s eyes turned slowly, first toward the lake... then toward them.

And she saw them.

Nolan and Lirazel, standing there—two intruders before a queen not yet crowned.