Strax’s comment didn’t sound like a direct threat, but rather a cold statement of facts, which made it all the more uncomfortable for the listener. There was no raising of the tone, no apparent aggression, but there was something much harder to deal with: clarity. He wasn’t reacting emotionally; he was setting boundaries, and he did so with a naturalness that indicated this wasn’t an exception, but a pattern.

Mythra held his gaze for a few seconds, without immediately responding. Her silence wasn’t hesitation, but calculation. She clearly understood what had happened there, not just the act itself, but the dynamics that led up to it. The man had provoked her, she had allowed it, and Strax had resolved it in the most direct way possible. The question wasn’t whether it was right or wrong, but what it meant within that environment.

"You’re right in one part," she finally said, maintaining a firm and controlled tone. "I allowed him to speak. And that had a consequence." She paused briefly, as if carefully organizing her next thought. "But that doesn’t mean your answer is without implications."

Strax tilted his head slightly, as if that were an obvious observation. "It never is," he replied. "The difference is that I don’t pretend they don’t exist."

Around them, the room began to move again, but with much more caution. No one immediately resumed normal conversation, but small exchanges began to emerge, always in hushed tones, always with occasional glances in Strax’s direction. His presence was no longer just a curiosity or a point of analysis; it was now an active factor that everyone was considering with much more seriousness.

One of the men furthest back at the table leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on the surface as he observed the scene with more interest than concern. "That clears up a lot of doubts," he said slowly. "At least we know he wasn’t bluffing."

"You thought he was bluffing?" "I thought there was exaggeration," said the first man. "Now I think there was restraint."

This type of comment wasn’t meant to provoke directly, but it wasn’t neutral either. It was a way of repositioning the narrative within the hall, of adjusting how everyone there was interpreting Strax’s presence and actions.

Scarlett, still leaning on her hand, observed this with a slight smile, clearly amused by the change in general posture. "Funny how quickly respect appears when someone loses their head," she commented, without any attempt to soften the phrase.

Tiamat let out a small laugh through her nose, agreeing without needing to add anything. For her, this was no surprise, just confirmation of a pattern she already knew well. Ouroboros remained silent, but now her gaze was no longer fixed on the removed body, but on the people around her, as if she were analyzing the changes that this event had provoked.

Another voice responded, this time more restrained, but with a slight trace of tension.

"I thought there was exaggeration," said the first man. "Now I think there was restraint."

This type of comment wasn’t made to provoke direct provocation, but it wasn’t neutral either. It was a way of repositioning the narrative within the hall, of adjusting how everyone there was interpreting Strax’s presence and actions.

Scarlett, still leaning on her hand, observed this with a slight smile, clearly amused by the change in general posture.

Scarlett, still leaning on her hand, observed this with a slight smile, clearly amused by the change in ... trace of tension.

Now I think there was restraint. Mythra spoke again, this time addressing not just Strax, but the entire dining room. "Dinner continues," she said, firmly enough to shut down any possibility of open discussion at that moment. "And any issues arising from this will be dealt with later."

It was a clear decision: not to allow the event to escalate there, in that environment. At the same time, not to ignore it completely either. It was control, not denial.

The staff moved again, resuming service as if nothing had happened, although the tension was still present in the air. Dishes were repositioned, drinks served, and the basic flow of dinner resumed, albeit with an added layer of attention and caution.

Strax, for his part, showed no significant change. He turned his attention to the table, picking up one of the utensils and observing the food in front of him with a much more genuine interest than before. "At least the food looks good," he commented, as if he were finally willing to participate in something more trivial. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

"You choose curious moments to change the subject," Tiamat said, glancing sideways at him.

"I see no reason to keep thinking about it," Strax replied. "The problem has been solved."

Scarlett chuckled again. "Straight to the point, as always."

Ouroboros, this time, spoke in a low voice, but loud enough for the group to hear. "Not everyone will see it that way," she said.

Strax shrugged slightly. "They don’t need to."

That response summed up his position well, and also made it clear to anyone paying attention that he wasn’t there to negotiate his course of action. He wasn’t seeking approval, nor adaptation. Just... continuity.

Later, some of those present began to resume conversations, now with a different focus. It was no longer about speculation or superficial curiosity, but about real implications. Some looks were more cautious, others more interested, and a few showed something close to approval, although this wasn’t openly declared.

An older-looking man, sitting near the center of the table, finally decided to speak more directly. "You understand what this means, right?" he asked, looking at Strax with a serious, but not hostile, expression.

Strax slowly raised his gaze. "It means someone said something they shouldn’t have and paid for it," he replied.

The man held her gaze for a moment before shaking his head slightly. "It means you’re setting a precedent in a space that isn’t yours."

Strax didn’t seem bothered by the remark. "And what was he setting?" he retorted.

The man didn’t answer immediately, and that was an answer in itself.

Mythra watched this exchange attentively, clearly assessing not only the content but the way it was being conducted. There was a delicate balance there, and any misplaced word could lead to a new breaking point.

"That will be discussed at another time," she said again, reinforcing the boundary. "For now, consider that there was a mistake and a correction."

"A permanent correction," murmured someone further back.

Scarlett smiled more openly this time. "The best ones are like that."

Tiamat merely shook her head, but didn’t disagree.

Ouroboros remained silent again, but there was something different in his demeanor now. It was no longer just observation; there was a clearer understanding of the kind of environment they were in, and of the role Strax occupied within it.

Dinner continued.

But it didn’t return to what it was before.

And that—

was irreversible.

...

The return to their room was without formal escort or prolonged farewells. Mythra simply indicated the way back with a simple gesture and withdrew along with the other most important members of the court, as if that dinner had fulfilled exactly its intended purpose and nothing more needed to be said for the moment. The corridor was quieter than before, not for lack of movement, but because there was now a greater distance between the people and them, as if the space had been naturally adjusted to avoid any new kind of direct interaction.

Strax walked ahead, at the same pace as before, without haste and without apparent tension, but his attention was clearly active. Scarlett followed close behind, with a more relaxed gaze, but no less aware, while Tiamat maintained her rigid posture and Ouroboros followed a few steps behind, absorbing everything with that characteristic silence. The environment was still the same surreal palace, with its clean and imposing architecture, but now there was a clear difference in how they perceived it.

They were no longer just visitors.

And the palace knew it.

As soon as they entered the wing reserved for the quarters, the silence intensified even further, not from a lack of presence, but from an excess of it. It was the kind of silence that didn’t exist in empty places, but rather in places where much was being hidden at the same time. No step echoed without response, no breath seemed to go unnoticed.

It was Scarlett who broke this balance first.

"There are over two hundred men watching us," she said, without lowering her voice, as if commenting on the atmosphere or the decor of the place.

Strax didn’t look at her.

"I know," he replied, with the same naturalness. "Some are far away. Others are too close."

He continued walking as he spoke, as if mentally pointing out each position without needing to look directly. His perception wasn’t limited to the physical, and in that space, that made a difference. The presences weren’t uniform. Some were trained to hide, others were simply there because they were sent, and some... were interesting enough to be noticed even unintentionally.

Scarlett gave a small smile.

"Those in the shadows are the most annoying," she commented. "They keep trying not to exist."

Tiamat let out a light sigh, clearly annoyed.

"Isn’t there a second of peace in here?" she asked, crossing her arms as she walked. "First an attack, then a dinner full of people sizing each other up, now this."

Ouroboros tilted her head slightly, glancing sideways at one of the walls, as if trying to pierce through it with her gaze.

"They’re scared," she said, in a low but clear tone. "It’s not just surveillance for protocol."

Strax agreed with a slight nod.

"Of course they are," he replied. "I killed someone in front of everyone and nobody did anything."

Scarlett let out a short laugh.

"That really helps the impression," she said.

They reached the bedroom door, and Strax opened it without hesitation. The interior was exactly as they had left it, which in itself said something about the level of control over that place. No movement, no sign of direct invasion, but that didn’t mean there was no observation.

As soon as they entered, the door closed behind them with a dry sound.

Silence returned.

But not completely.

Tiamat walked to the center of the room and stopped, looking around with a slight unease still present.

"I still don’t understand," she said. "Why all this theatrics?"

Strax calmly took off his coat, throwing it onto one of the chairs before answering.

"Because they don’t know what to do with us," he said.

"It’s simple," Tiamat continued, partially ignoring the answer. "It was just a direct conversation with this Emperor. We resolve what needs resolving, go back home, conquer more cities, start a real war, take the entire continent, and that’s it."

She said this with absurd naturalness, as if she were describing a common routine.

Scarlett leaned against the wall, crossing her legs.

"I like this plan," she commented with a slight smile.

Ouroboros looked at Tiamat for a few seconds before speaking.

"You’re missing a lot," she said.

Tiamat raised an eyebrow.

"Like what?"

Ouroboros took a moment to answer, organizing her words.

"Like the fact that this place doesn’t work like the others," she said. "It’s not just strength. They have structure, they have hierarchy... and they have something more."

Strax sat on the edge of the bed again, resting his elbows on his knees.

"She’s right," he said.

Tiamat turned to look at him.

"So what’s the problem?" she asked. "We’ve dealt with worse."

Strax let out a small sigh, running a hand over his face.

"The problem isn’t winning," he replied. "The problem is what comes after."

Scarlett tilted her head slightly, curious.

"Explain."

Strax looked ahead for a moment before continuing.

"This continent isn’t empty," he said. "It’s not a loose territory waiting for someone strong enough to take it. There’s a system here, even if it’s not perfect. These ’monarchs,’ this Emperor, this so-called conference... it all keeps something functioning."

Tiamat didn’t seem convinced.

"So what?" she retorted. "We break it and make another one."

Strax gave a small, wry smile.

"And you think nobody’s ever tried this before?"

The silence that followed was short, but significant.

Ouroboros crossed her arms, leaning slightly against the wall.

"They’re waiting," she said.

Scarlett looked at her.

"Who?"

"Everyone," Ouroboros replied. "Those who were at dinner. Those who are hiding now. The Emperor himself, probably."

Strax nodded.

"They want to see how far we’ll go," he said. "And how worthwhile it is to intervene."

Tiamat snorted slightly.

"So that’s it?" she asked. "We just stand here waiting for them to decide if we’re a problem?"

Strax shook his head.

"No," he replied. "We do what we always do."

Scarlett smiled.

"Which is?"

Strax raised his gaze, now with a more direct expression.

"Whatever we want," he said.

Silence returned, but this time it wasn’t heavy.

It was steady.

Scarlett uncrossed her legs and moved a little closer, clearly more interested now.

"So you want to wait?" she asked.

Strax tilted his head slightly.

"I want to see the Emperor," he said. "After that, we’ll decide."

Tiamat sighed, but this time less irritated.

"And until then?" she asked.

Strax shrugged.

"We’ll watch back," he replied.

Ouroboros gave a slight, almost imperceptible smile.

"Fair enough."

Scarlett chuckled softly.

"Two hundred against four," she commented. "I like those odds."

Strax leaned back a little more on the bed, relaxing his posture.

"They’re not the problem," he said.

Tiamat looked at him. "So who is it?"

Strax was silent for a second.

Then he answered, simply.

"The Emperor."