Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 821: Moving towards Strax.
The Secretary left the Throne Room with the same impeccable posture with which she had entered, her firm steps echoing through the silent corridor as the enormous golden doors closed behind her with a deep, almost definitive sound, as if sealing not just an audience, but the beginning of something that had not yet taken shape. The air outside the room seemed lighter, but not enough to dissipate the tension that had accumulated in her shoulders, and for a brief, almost imperceptible instant, her expression lost the perfect neutrality she had maintained before the Emperor.
She continued walking, her heels touching the black marble in a steady rhythm, but her mind was no longer as disciplined as her movements, and a slight furrowed brow appeared as she breathed more deeply, as if she needed to remind herself that she was still in control. Her lips moved discreetly, in a murmur too low to echo, but clear enough for herself to hear, like a sigh she would never allow herself to express aloud in front of anyone else.
"Elara... how can you accept this?" The name escaped in an almost irritated whisper, laden with an exhaustion that belied her impeccable figure, and for a moment she closed her eyes as she walked, remembering the Emperor’s calm tone, the way he transformed absurd decisions into natural orders, as if asking to observe an unknown conqueror were just another routine task. She opened her eyes again, regaining control, straightening her shoulders slightly, returning to the role she had played for so long that she no longer knew where duty ended and her own will began.
The palace corridors stretched like a labyrinth of power, with guards positioned at perfect intervals and officials who knew exactly when they should exist and when they should disappear, and Elara walked among them like a central figure, someone whose presence was acknowledged but rarely questioned. Still, her thoughts persisted, revolving around the name that had been spoken in that gigantic hall, repeating itself like a constant echo that refused to fade.
Strax.
Four cities.
Two defeated monarchs. And no typical behavior of a conqueror.
She pursed her lips slightly as she turned down one of the side corridors, her steps maintaining the same calculated rhythm, but her mind analyzing possibilities, consequences, and risks, as she had been trained to do. The Emperor was interested, and that alone was enough to turn any situation into something dangerous, not only for the object of attention but for everyone around.
It was at that moment that it happened.
The impact.
It wasn’t strong, but enough to interrupt her train of thought, her body stopping abruptly as it collided with another presence in the corridor, and for an instant the sound of her heels ceased, replaced by a tense silence that seemed heavier than any word could be.
Elara looked up immediately.
And met eyes.
Eyes that weren’t human in the common sense.
There was something in them that moved in a strange way, like multiple layers of overlapping attention, as if several consciousnesses were observing at the same time through the same pair of pupils.
The woman before her did not flinch.
She showed no surprise.
Much less an apology.
Her presence was... uncomfortable.
Not because of her appearance itself, which was strangely elegant, almost ethereal, but because of the feeling she emanated, something reminiscent of the distant buzzing of thousands of wings, even in the absolute silence of the corridor.
She tilted her head slightly, the subtle movement laden with a natural, almost instinctive hostility.
"You have eyes. So look ahead."
The voice was soft, but there was venom in it, a tone that didn’t need to rise to threaten, because the threat was already implicit in every syllable.
Elara did not react with irritation.
She did not react with arrogance.
She only lowered her head slightly, in a controlled manner, respectful enough to avoid conflict, but not submissive to the point of appearing weak.
"I apologize."
Her voice returned to its professional tone, free of any previous emotion, as if the murmur from moments before had never existed. Her body was already beginning to move again, ready to circle the figure and continue on its way, because in that palace, unexpected encounters were rarely accidents.
But she couldn’t take more than two steps.
"Stop."
The word came softly.
But it wasn’t a request.
It was an order.
And there was something about it that made ignoring it... a dangerous choice.
Elara stopped.
Not out of submission.
But out of calculation.
She turned her face slightly, without fully looking, maintaining the proper posture for someone of her position, but recognizing that the presence behind her wasn’t someone who demonstrated herself only with titles.
The woman took a step forward.
Silent.
Lightly.
Wrong.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?"
The question wasn’t curious.
It was inquisitive.
Elara remained silent for a second.
Assessing.
Weighing words.
Because she knew exactly who was behind her.
The Insect Monarch.
Keresha.
One of the empire’s most unstable entities, known not only for her strength but for her unpredictability, someone who needed no reason to act, only interest.
And at that moment...
She seemed interested.
Elara turned slowly.
This time facing her.
But without challenge.
Without fear.
Just presence.
"Throne matters."
The answer was direct.
But not detailed.
Keresha’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, the silence seemed to vibrate around them, as if something invisible were moving in the walls, in the shadows, in the very air.
"That doesn’t answer my question."
Elara remained calm.
But internally, her mind was already adjusting possibilities.
Keresha wasn’t asking out of formality.
She was testing.
Provoking.
Waiting.
And worse...
She was deciding.
"A new variable has emerged in the North."
Elara said, choosing her words carefully.
"I’ve been tasked with handling it."
Keresha took another step forward.
Now closer.
Too close.
"Variable."
She repeated the word as if tasting it, as if analyzing its flavor.
"And you’re going to handle it alone."
It wasn’t a question.
Elara held her gaze.
"I wasn’t instructed to bring an escort."
A slight silence.
And then...
A change.
Subtle.
But dangerous.
The air around Keresha seemed... to vibrate.
"If you’re lying."
She said calmly.
"I’ll open you up."
There was no raising of voice.
No exaggerated threat.
It was stated as a fact.
Simple. Direct.
And entirely possible.
Elara didn’t look away.
But she decided.
She knew that withholding information there wasn’t prudent.
"Strax."
The name came out clearly.
Without hesitation.
And for the first time...
Keresha stopped.
Not physically.
But something changed.
"Repeat."
The word came low.
Elara maintained the tone.
"Strax."
Silence.
Deeper.
Heavier.
And then...
A smile.
Small.
But wrong.
"Ah..."
Keresha tilted her head slightly, her eyes shining with an unhealthy interest.
"So it’s about him."
She took a step back, but her presence didn’t diminish.
On the contrary.
It seemed to expand.
"Four cities."
She murmured, almost to herself.
"Two fallen monarchs, one of them dead."
Her eyes returned to Elara.
"And the ice didn’t attack."
Elara didn’t answer.
But that in itself was an answer.
Keresha let out a low sound, something between a laugh and a click, as if multiple voices echoed for a moment.
"Interesting."
She walked around Elara slowly, like a predator assessing something it hasn’t yet decided whether to hunt.
"The Emperor wants him."
Another observation.
Elara remained silent.
"Of course he does."
Keresha smiled again.
"Different."
She stopped beside Elara.
Close.
Very close.
"And you’ll take the letter."
Elara nodded slightly.
"Yes."
Another silence. And then...
"I want to see him too."
The phrase came softly.
But laden with intention.
Elara turned her face slightly.
"The Empire’s interest will be served according to the Emperor’s orders."
Keresha laughed.
This time more openly.
"You’re funny."
She finally stepped away, but her eyes were still fixed.
"You think this is about the Empire."
She tilted her head.
"It’s not."
A pause.
"It’s about... curiosity."
And then, as if suddenly losing interest, Keresha turned away.
But before leaving completely...
She spoke.
"Don’t be long."
Without looking back.
"I don’t like to wait."
And then she left.
Silently.
As if she had never been there.
Elara remained standing for a few seconds.
Breathing.
Thinking.
Calculating again.
And then...
She resumed her journey.
Her steps returned to their perfect rhythm.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
But now...
The situation had changed.
It wasn’t just the Emperor who was interested.
Now...
Other eyes were turned to the North.
And that made everything...
Much more dangerous.
...
The ocean floor was an absolute silence, but not an empty silence. It was an ancient, heavy silence, as if the ocean itself carried memories that no one should ever hear. The pressure crushed everything, the darkness swallowed any trace of light, and yet... there was something there. Something alive. Something asleep. Something that shouldn’t exist in that world.
Cold currents moved slowly around a colossal structure buried in the depths, a formation that was neither rock, nor coral, nor anything natural. It was a body. Immense. Immobile. Enveloped by centuries of silence.
And then...
A sound.
Not physical.
Not audible.
But real.
A pulse.
Slow.
Heavy.
Like the first beat of a heart that had remained still for too long.
And with it...
Eyes opened.
Two points of red light cut through the abyssal darkness like blades, awakening something the sea itself had tried to forget. The surrounding water vibrated, not from movement, but from presence, as if each drop recognized that something too ancient had returned.
Scathach awoke.
Its body remained still for a few seconds, as if reconnecting to the world itself, as if each part of its existence was being slowly reactivated, layer by layer, power by power. And then, a sigh.
A sigh that didn’t generate bubbles.
But rather... impact.
The surrounding water receded slightly, pushed by an invisible force, a reminder that this was no ordinary creature. It never was.
Its eyes moved.
Slowly.
Heavy.
And for the first time...
There was something in them that wasn’t power.
It was... weight.
Memory.
And regret.
"Strax..."
The name escaped her lips like a whisper, but it carried a weight that pierced the water itself, as if the entire ocean were compelled to hear it.
She closed her eyes for a moment.
And in that instant...
She remembered.
Not battles.
Not victories.
But him.
Her son.
The way he looked at the world, even after everything.
The way he... loved.
And that...
That was what she broke.
Her fingers closed slowly, the chains around her body breaking effortlessly, ancient metal crumbling as if it had never been able to contain her. But she didn’t move yet.
Because there was something that needed to be said.
Even if no one was there to hear.
"What... I was thinking..."
Her voice was firmer now, but laden with something strange, something that didn’t match the entity she was.
Doubt.
"Transform... his wives..."
She opened her eyes again, the red now more intense, more vivid.
"Into pieces."
The word came out bitter.
Heavy.
Wrong.
As if even she herself rejected the concept now.
"As if they were... tools."
The water around her began to stir, not from physical movement, but from emotion, an invisible force that made the ocean tremble slowly, as if reacting to what was being awakened.
"To make him stronger."
Her body moved. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂
Slowly.
Rising.
The remaining currents broke completely, disintegrating into fragments that sank even further into the depths, disappearing into the darkness. "As if... strength were everything."
His eyes closed again.
And this time...
There was pain.
Real pain.
Deep pain.
"As if I didn’t know..."
His voice faltered for a moment.
Just a moment.
But it was enough to show that something there had changed.
"That he... was already strong."
Silence.
The water around him calmed slightly, as if the ocean itself were listening.
Waiting.
"I took from him... what he values most."
His eyes opened again.
But now...
There wasn’t just regret.
There was a decision.
"I forced him... to carry something that shouldn’t exist."
His body began to emit heat.
An impossible heat in that environment, making the surrounding water vibrate, small thermal currents forming, bubbles emerging, as if the sea itself were being rejected by that presence.
"I made him suffer."
Her hand clenched tightly.
"In the name of... strength."
A pause.
Long.
Heavy.
And then...
She spoke.
Lower.
But firmer than ever.
"This is not strength."
The ocean trembled.
Truly.
A wave of energy swept through the depths, spreading like an invisible shock, making distant creatures flee, primal instincts screaming to stay away from what was awakening.
"I was wrong."
Simple.
Direct.
Unquestionable.
"Even if I kneel..."
Her body began to slowly rise, the seabed receding, sediments being lifted, creating an abyssal dust storm around her.
"Even if I beg..."
The water began to boil around her.
Literally.
"It won’t be enough."
Her eyes burned.
"I know that."
And then...
She smiled.
Not with joy.
But with determination.
"Then I will do more."
Her body began to change.
Her skin cracked into fissures of red light, cracks that spread like lava beneath a crust, revealing something much larger, much older, much truer than the form she had maintained until then.
"I will fix it."
The transformation began. It wasn’t gentle.
It wasn’t controlled.
It was violent.
Absolute.
Her body expanded, bones rearranging with deep cracks that echoed through the water like muffled thunder, muscles growing, stretching, molding into a new form, a form that wasn’t humanoid, a form that didn’t belong to that world.
Scales began to emerge.
Red.
Shining.
Each one reflecting the little light that managed to penetrate those depths, like live embers, like fragments of an ancient hell.
Her back split open.
And then...
Wings emerged.
Gigantic.
Demonic.
Dark membranes with incandescent veins running through them, as if blood and fire were one and the same, stretching across the ocean like an impossible shadow.
The surrounding water exploded into steam.
Pressure ceased to matter.
The sea...
It was being pushed back.
Rejected.
Subjugated.
A roar echoed.
Not through the air.
But through reality itself.
Grave.
Ancient.
Powerful.
The seabed was no longer deep enough to contain it.
And then...
It beat its wings.
Just once.
And the impact was... catastrophic.
The water parted.
Literally.
As if an invisible force had ripped the ocean open, creating a vertical path, a tunnel of destruction linking the depths to the surface.
And it rose.
Fast.
Violent.
Inevitable.
Currents were shattered, creatures were hurled away, the sea itself forced to give way to that which should not be there.
Faster.
Higher.
Closer to the light.
Until—
The surface.
Exploded.
A gigantic column of water shot into the sky, as if the ocean had been struck by a divine impact, waves spreading in all directions while something colossal emerged from within it.
Scathach was no longer there.
In her place...
There was a dragon.
Immense.
Colossal.
Scales as red as burning blood, eyes gleaming like infernal suns, and wings that stretched for miles, blocking the light of the sky as water rained down from its body.
The air around her burned.
Space itself seemed to distort slightly beneath her presence.
She spread her wings fully.
And then...
She breathed.
The world seemed to hold its breath along with her.
And when she exhaled...
The heat spread like an invisible wave, evaporating the sea beneath her, creating a colossal mist that rose to the heavens like a warning.
She looked at the horizon.
To the North.
Where he was.
"Wait for me..."
Her voice was no longer human.
It was an echo.
A roar.
A promise.
"My son."
