Alix stands at the head of the table.

His hands rest behind his back, his posture relaxed, yet no one in the room dares to take him lightly.

In front of him stand four figures.

Each one carries a presence that would make ordinary soldiers hesitate.

Each one is a general.

Vordon stands to the side, fully armored from head to toe, his beastman frame broad and solid. The armor is worn but well maintained, covered in small scratches that speak of constant battle. Even without seeing his face clearly, the way he stands tells everything. Disciplined. Steady. Unshakable.

Beside him is Ruk. A towering minotaur whose dark bronze hide seems to absorb the light around him. His massive horns curve upward, polished to a dull shine, and thick armor is strapped tightly across his chest and shoulders. Every breath he takes is slow and heavy, like a beast that knows its own strength.

Erel’na stands a short distance away. Tall and slender, yet far from fragile. Her four arms are folded neatly, chitin gleaming in shades of emerald and black. Her insect-like eyes remain fixed on Alix, cold and calculating, constantly analyzing. Even in stillness, there is something sharp about her, like a blade waiting for the right moment.

And then there is Varesh. A white tiger beastman, his fur marked with faint blue stripes that almost seem to shimmer under the light. His movements are subtle, barely noticeable, but every shift carries a sense of danger. His eyes are cold, focused, always watching.

The room is silent.

Alix looks at each of them in turn.

Then speaks.

"Report."

Vordon steps forward first.

"Our forces are stabilizing the city," he says. "No major resistance remains. Minor unrest from human civilians, but nothing we can’t handle."

Alix nods slightly.

"Keep it that way."

Ruk lets out a low breath, then speaks next, his voice deep and heavy.

"The freed ones are joining in groups," he says. "Some strong. Some weak. But all willing to fight."

He pauses.

"They hate the humans."

Alix’s gaze doesn’t change.

"Good. Use that, but don’t let it turn into chaos."

Ruk nods.

Erel’na steps forward, her movements smooth.

Erel’na steps forward, her movements smooth and precise.

"The city’s internal structure is already being reorganized," she says. "The remaining noble assets are being cataloged. Food distribution has stabilized, and the former slaves are responding well to structured leadership."

Alix nods once.

"Keep watching them."

"Understood."

Silence falls again before Alix finally speaks.

"I want all of you to focus on training the new recruits, for now." he says. "We will continue our attacks soon."

The atmosphere inside the room sharpens instantly.

None of them look surprised.

If anything, they almost seem relieved

"As you wish, my lord," the minotaur rumbles.

Varesh folds his arms.

"They’ve tasted victories already. Sitting still too long will dull them."

Vordon gives a firm nod.

"I’ll personally oversee formation drills and combat discipline."

Erel’na tilts her head slightly.

"I’ll reorganize unit structures. Most of the recruits lack coordination."

"Do it," Alix says.

His gaze sweeps across all four generals.

"When we move again, I don’t want an army fueled only by emotion. I want soldiers."

All four bow their heads.

"Yes, my lord."

After a few more discussions regarding patrol routes, supply distribution, and scouting formations, Alix finally dismisses them.

The generals leave one after another.

Heavy footsteps.

Claws scraping lightly against stone.

Armor shifting.

Soon, the large war room becomes quiet again.

Alix remains standing near the table, staring down at the massive map spread before him.

Cities.

Kingdoms.

Continents.

So much land.

So many enemies.

His fingers tap lightly against the edge of the table.

"I wonder how they’re doing," he murmurs.

His thoughts drift far away.

Beyond the Pharanthia continent. Beyond the sea, toward the Ereborn Continent.

-----

Far away from the Pharanthia continent, across endless seas and storm-covered waters, the Ereborn Continent had already changed beyond recognition.

The banners of the Bregion Empire no longer flew over its cities.

In their place stood black standards marked with the crest of Alix’s growing dominion.

War had swept through the empire like a plague.

Inside the imperial capital, the former emperor’s palace had become a command center.

The grand hall still carried traces of its old glory. Massive pillars lined the chamber, engraved with ancient victories and forgotten kings. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, though several had been cracked during the siege. Sunlight spilled through tall windows, casting pale light over maps, documents, and war reports spread across a massive table.

At the center of the room stood three figures.

Each one radiated power strong enough to crush ordinary cultivators without effort.

Mhazul stood near the edge of the war table, arms folded across his chest. He was enormous, towering over almost everyone in the room. Two massive war axes rested across his back, their edges darkened from constant battle.

Crimson veins pulsed beneath his skin like molten lava flowing under flesh.

Even standing still, his aura felt violent.

Like a volcano waiting to erupt.

Across from him stood Lysaria. Tall, elegant, but terrifying.

Her long clawed legs were bare to the knee, while translucent tendrils spiraled upward around her thighs like living armor. Her dark lavender skin gleamed faintly under the light, covered in glowing curse-inscribed tattoos that shifted slowly like breathing script.

Shadows wrapped around her arms like strips of living darkness, flickering gently with every breath she took.

And her eyes...

Pools of black with glowing green slits staring from within.

Cold.

Beautiful.

Inhuman.

Near the center of the table stood Gander.

Compared to the other two, his appearance was less overwhelming physically. He wore dark robes covered in faded runic markings, his expression calm.

But among everyone present, he was the one giving commands.

Not because he was the strongest.

But because his mind was terrifying.

Even Mhazul followed his strategies without complaint.

The giant warrior glanced down at one of the maps spread across the table.

"So," Gander said calmly, adjusting one of the markers on the map, "any news regarding the remaining members of the Spears of the Empire?"

The room grew slightly quieter.

That name still carried weight.

The Spears of the Empire had once been the strongest military organization under the Bregion Empire. Elite cultivators personally loyal to the imperial family.

Most had died during the conquest.

The survivors had vanished.

Mhazul snorted.

"They’re already being hunted," he said. His deep voice rumbled through the hall like distant thunder. "Sooner or later they’ll disappear completely."

A faint grin spread across his face.

"And when that happens, this continent will finally belong entirely to His Majesty."

Lysaria slowly walked around the table, her clawed fingers tracing lightly across the wood.

"I still find it hard to believe how fast these humans collapsed," she murmured. Her voice was smooth and strangely hypnotic. "Although, they did put up a good fight."

Gander didn’t comment.

He simply continued reviewing reports.

Troop movements, supply routes, and resistance groups.

Everything was organized with frightening efficiency.

Even without Alix present, the conquest had not slowed.

If anything, it became even more methodical.

Many of Alix’s non-system subordinates had grown rapidly during the wars. Constant battle, constant bloodshed, constant victories.

The Ereborn Continent had become a forge.

And everyone under Alix was sharpening themselves inside it.

Lysaria suddenly leaned back slightly, folding her arms.

"I wonder what His Majesty is doing right now."

Mhazul shrugged.

"Probably conquering another kingdom."

Gander finally looked up.

"His Majesty is fine," he said calmly. "If something happened to him, we would know."

Because of the system binding between them, all of them could sense one thing clearly.

Alix was alive.

And still growing stronger.

Lysaria’s expression softened slightly.

"Good."

She paused.

Then a faint smile appeared on her lips.

"If His Majesty returned now, he would probably be surprised."

Mhazul raised a brow.

"About what?"

"Princess Ruva."

At the mention of the young Felinari girl, even Gander finally looked mildly interested.

Mhazul let out a loud laugh.

"Ah, that little monster." 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Lysaria nodded slowly.

"She’s improving far too quickly."

Mhazul leaned against the table, crossing his arms again.

"Last week she shattered three training grounds because she lost control of her wind element."

One of the officers nearby visibly paled at the memory.

Lysaria’s tattoos glowed faintly as she smiled.

"And two Tier 5 instructors refused to spar with her afterward."

Mhazul grinned wider.

"They said fighting her felt like fighting a natural disaster."

Even Gander allowed the corner of his mouth to lift slightly.

"Princess Ruva truly is talented," he admitted.