Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 805: He came in person.

"...A month?" she repeated, as if testing the weight of her words.

Rogue crossed her arms, leaning against the wall of the room where he meditated. Her usual smile was there, but something was different—less provocation, more restrained relief.

"Technically," she said, "twenty-eight days, a few hours, and a collective scare that I prefer not to repeat."

Cassandra sat on the floor, her back against a column, sharpening a short blade out of pure habit. She looked up, analyzing Strax as if assessing whether he was still... himself.

"You weren’t breathing properly," she commented casually. "Your heart was beating, but... strangely. I thought you’d turned into a statue. Or a stubborn corpse."

"I voted for ’corpse,’" Daniela added, arms crossed. "Cassandra voted for ’if you move, I’ll kill you.’ Rogue stared at you for three days straight."

"I needed to confirm," Rogue replied, shrugging. "I’ve seen worse things happen to people who are too powerful."

Strax ran a hand over his face.

There was no pain.

There was no fatigue.

But there was... weight.

"For me," he said slowly, "it was... difficult to measure time. Inside, everything happened at once. Or it didn’t happen."

He instinctively raised his hand.

The air around them vibrated for a second.

The three of them felt it.

It wasn’t pressure.

It wasn’t a threat.

It was... structure.

As if the space had, for a brief instant, recognized something above it.

Daniela frowned.

"Strax..." she hesitated. "What exactly did you do?"

He took a few seconds to answer. "I... organized myself."

Cassandra let out a short laugh. "That’s the scariest way to put it."

Strax smiled slightly. "I created a world." Silence.

Rogue was the first to react.

"...A what?"

"A Mental World," he explained. "Not a metaphor. Not a simple visualization. A functional, internal space, where each of my powers has a place, a function, and... limits defined by me."

Daniela felt a shiver run down her spine.

"You... built laws inside your own head?"

"Yes."

"And it didn’t explode?"

"I seem fine, I think."

Cassandra stood up, sheathing her blade.

"Well, that’s good," she said. "At least, while you were gone, everything was normal, even though the thieves were acting strangely."

"Strangely how?" Strax asked.

"More fearful," she replied. "The air around them gets heavy sometimes. Like someone’s watching."

Strax nodded slowly. "Something to do with the Monarch of the White Flames?"

Rogue slowly uncrossed his arms, his gaze becoming more serious than at any other moment since he had woken up.

"He didn’t stand still," he said. "Not for a second."

Strax tilted his head slightly, signaling for her to continue.

"In the first few days, it was probes," Rogue began, pacing the hall as he spoke. "Informants. ’Lost’ merchants. Hunters who knew too much for ordinary people. All too curious about why Athenion stopped bleeding."

Cassandra snorted. "I killed three of them."

"Four," Rogue corrected. "One tried to escape."

Cassandra shrugged. "So four."

Rogue continued, impassively.

"After that, he changed his approach. He stopped asking and started acting. Trade routes being diverted. Smuggling being cut off. Noble houses complaining that their coffers were getting lighter without explanation."

Daniela frowned. "The taxes."

"Exactly," Rogue confirmed. "He tried to force the city economically. He wanted to see if the people would turn against us on their own."

Strax chuckled softly. "Classic."

"It didn’t work," Rogue continued. "I tampered with the numbers. I redirected supplies. I burned old records. I made it seem like the city always functioned this way. Without him."

She stopped walking and looked directly at Strax.

"Athenion is... armored. Politics, economy, organized crime. All shut down."

"That’s why the silence," he murmured.

"Yes." Rogue nodded. "When a tyrant stops using intermediaries, it’s because he’s decided to get his own hands dirty."

Daniela swallowed hard.

"Then he’s coming."

"Not ’if,’" Rogue corrected. "When."

Cassandra smiled, a crooked and dangerously satisfied smile.

"Great." Strax exhaled slowly, as if that confirmation was something he had expected from the beginning.

"That’s good," he said.

The three women looked at him at the same time.

"Good?" Daniela repeated.

"Perfect, actually," Strax replied, cracking his neck from side to side. "I just came out of a month of deep self-analysis, structural reorganization of power, and creation of a functional inner world."

He widened his smile.

"It would be a waste not to test this properly."

Rogue raised an eyebrow.

"You’re calling the Monarch of the White Flames...?"

"A test dummy," Strax finished without hesitation.

Cassandra laughed. It wasn’t loud. It was sincere.

"I like how you think."

Daniela, however, seemed less comfortable.

"Strax... he’s not just strong. He has an army, alliances, ancient artifacts—"

"All great," Strax interrupted, raising his hand. "Tests under ideal conditions are useless. I want pressure. I want risk. I want something that will actually try to kill me."

He closed his hand slowly.

The ground beneath his feet didn’t crack... but it recognized it.

"If he calls himself Monarch," he continued, "then he better know how to rule his own end."

Rogue watched him silently for a few seconds, assessing.

"You’ve changed," she finally said.

"Yes," he agreed. "But not in the way he expects."

Cassandra leaned against the wall.

"How long until he shows up?"

Rogue thought for a moment.

"Days. Maybe a week. At most." She smiled slightly. "He hates losing control. And he hates even more not understanding what’s happening."

Strax nodded.

"Great." He turned to Cassandra and Daniela. "Continue the training. I want discipline, coordination, and real loyalty. I don’t want fanatics. I want soldiers."

"And if he attacks first?" Daniela asked.

Strax looked at her, too calmly.

"Then he’ll find me... warming up."

A heavy silence fell over the hall.

Rogue was the first to smile.

"You know," she said, "I almost feel sorry for him."

Strax chuckled softly.

"Don’t." — His eyes gleamed for an instant, something reptilian, ancient. — He will have the honor of being the first to discover... what happens when an entire world begins to move against you.

The sentence wasn’t spoken with hatred.

Nor with arrogance.

It was spoken with certainty.

The hall seemed to absorb those words. The torches attached to the walls swayed for a second, as if an invisible current had passed through them. Nothing exploded. Nothing yielded. Still, they all felt: something had been marked.

Strax turned completely to the group.

"He will come with a spectacle" he continued. "White flames in the sky, proclamations, perhaps a "merciful warning." He will want everyone to see. Kings like him cannot bear to win in silence."

Rogue inclined her head thoughtfully. "Well, that must happen—"

"LADY ROGUE!!!" A voice passed through the door as a servant came running, "Haa...Hah." He was panting, and looked at her. "The Monarch of the White Flames, he’s here!"

The silence lasted less than a second.

Then—

Strax smiled.

It wasn’t a human smile.

Not even a satisfied smile.

It was the kind of slow curve of his lips that seemed out of place on the face of someone too calm. As if something ancient had just received exactly what it wanted.

"...Perfect" he said.

The word came out low, almost affectionate.

The servant swallowed hard.

Rogue was the first to truly react. Her crooked smile returned, now sharper.

"Well" she said, pushing herself off the wall "it seems he decided to save time."

Cassandra was already standing before she even realized it. The blade appeared in her hand like a reflex.

"Where?" she asked.

The servant pointed, trembling.

"Outer Gates. Sky..." he hesitated "...the sky turned white. Daniela felt her stomach sink."

"White...?"

"White flames," Strax confirmed, walking towards the exit of the hall. "Trademark. He wants everyone to know he’s arrived. To see him. To fear him."

Each of his steps seemed firmer than the last. Not heavy. Decisive.

"Cassandra," he said without looking at her. "First line, but don’t advance. Observe patterns, don’t provoke."

"Understood."

"Daniela. Civilians. I want partial evacuation, not panic. Use secondary routes. No visible running."

She took a deep breath and nodded.

"I’ll take care of it."

Strax then paused for a moment... and looked at Rogue.

"And you" he said. "Close everything."

Rogue smiled genuinely now.

"It’s already closed."

She snapped her fingers.

Something changed in the city.

It wasn’t a sound. It wasn’t an explosion. It was as if Athenion had... held its breath.

Strax felt it.

The Mental World within him responded.

Fields of blood flowers rippled under a wind that didn’t exist. Distant volcanoes pulsed in sync with his heart. The purple sky of his inner world became deeper, more alert.

He wasn’t just thinking anymore.

He was aligned.

"We’ll receive him" he said. Outside, the world burned in white.

The flames didn’t burn buildings. They didn’t destroy the ground. They floated in the sky like crowns of pure fire, forming ancient symbols, oaths of dominion.

At their center, a figure descended slowly, enveloped in a cloak too bright to be ordinary light.

The Monarch of the White Flames.

His presence pressed against the air. Soldiers behind him trembled, some kneeling unconsciously. Artifacts floated around his body like obedient satellites.

"Athenion" his voice echoed, amplified by magic and authority "kneel."

No response.

No screams.

No bell of surrender.

The city... held on.

The Monarch frowned.

"Interesting."

Then—

Strax appeared.

Not with an explosion.

Not with an impact.

He simply stood there, walking out of the inner gates, hands in his pockets, an expression too calm for someone standing before a self-proclaimed god.

His reptilian eyes gleamed slightly.

"You arrived earlier than I expected," said Strax. "I like that. Shows eagerness."

The Monarch stared at him.

For a brief, perilous second...

He sensed something was wrong.

Not fear.

But misalignment.

"Then you are the problem," said the Monarch, the white flame intensifying. "The city thief. The error outside the system."