Scarlett cut through the sky with a steady, elegant rhythm, her black wings opening with near-perfect precision with each beat, creating gentle air currents that supported the group with a surprising lightness for something of that size. Unlike the brutal urgency of the previous day, there was no hurry now—only direction. The wind passed by them steadily, but without violence, and the open sky above seemed more welcoming than threatening, tinged with a clean blue that only fully revealed itself after the complete sunrise.

Strax was positioned further ahead, near the base of her neck, maintaining a relaxed posture, but naturally attentive to the path. Behind him, Tiamat remained seated sideways, one leg bent while the other swung slightly in the air, as if the simple act of flying were already so commonplace that it required no effort at all. Ouroboros, in turn, was a little further back, but not distant—close enough to participate, distant enough to maintain her own space. Still, unlike the previous day, she seemed more present.

Her fingers still moved occasionally.

But now... less so.

"So," Scarlett began, her voice vibrating slightly because of its draconic form, but still perfectly understandable. "We’re officially back on track."

There was a slight tone of satisfaction there.

Strax tilted his head slightly, observing the horizon ahead before replying.

"Yes," he said. "No more unnecessary detours... at least for now."

Tiamat made a small sound through her nose, something between a short laugh and silent agreement.

"You say that as if we have control over it," she commented, crossing her arms in a relaxed manner. "With us, ’no detours’ usually means something hasn’t gone wrong yet."

Strax smiled slightly.

"Fair enough," he admitted.

Ouroboros listened silently for a few seconds before speaking, her voice calmer than the day before, though still carrying a certain caution.

"What’s the next stop?" she asked, glancing slightly toward Strax.

He answered without hesitation.

"The royal capital."

There was a short pause after that.

Not a heavy one.

But significant.

Tiamat raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Directly?" she questioned. "Without stopping at any of the intermediate cities?"

Strax nodded.

"We’ve already wasted enough time," he explained. "And if what happened yesterday is a sign of something bigger... I’d rather get there as soon as possible."

Scarlett adjusted her flight angle slightly, leaning her body gently as she passed through a higher air current.

"It’s going to be a long flight," she commented.

"I can handle it," Strax replied naturally.

Tiamat let out a small laugh.

"You always can," she said. "But you’re not the only one here."

Ouroboros remained silent for a moment, but then spoke, more softly.

"I’m fine too," she said, almost as if answering before even being asked.

Strax turned his face slightly toward her.

He said nothing.

But his gaze... assessed.

And accepted.

"Then we go," he concluded.

The wind picked up for a moment, causing some strands of Tiamat’s hair to come loose and dance in the air. She brushed them away with her hand, sighing lightly before settling more comfortably.

"Royal capital..." she murmured, more to herself. "It’s been a while since I’ve been there."

Scarlett replied immediately.

"It will be different," she said. "It’s always changing."

"Everything changes," commented Ouroboros, almost reflectively.

There was a short silence after that.

But not an uncomfortable one.

It was the kind of pause that accompanies natural conversations, where no one feels the need to fill every second with words.

Strax broke the silence, but without haste.

"We’ll need information when we arrive," he said. "About recent movements, political changes... anything out of the ordinary."

Tiamat nodded.

"I can take care of that," she replied. "Places like the capital always have someone willing to talk... for the right price."

Scarlett let out a slight sound of agreement.

"And I can check the surroundings," she added. "Entrances, exits, alternative routes."

Strax nodded.

"Perfect."

Ouroboros listened silently, but this time she didn’t seem out of place in the conversation. Her eyes moved between them, following each word, absorbing more than responding.

After a few seconds, she spoke again.

"And me?" she asked simply.

There was no insecurity in the question. But there was... intention.

Strax turned back a little more, just enough to look directly at her.

"You stay with us," he replied. "For now."

She held his gaze for a moment.

And then nodded.

"Right."

Tiamat watched this exchange attentively, but made no comment. She only adjusted her position slightly, resting her chin on her hand for a moment as she gazed at the sky.

"Strange," she murmured after a few seconds.

Strax raised an eyebrow slightly.

"What?"

She shrugged.

"That," she replied. "Us flying calmly, talking about plans... as if yesterday wasn’t complete chaos."

Scarlett answered before Strax.

"Maybe that’s exactly why," she said. "Because it was chaos."

Tiamat let out a small laugh.

"That makes sense."

Ouroboros looked ahead, the wind brushing her face steadily, her eyes calmer now.

"...I prefer it this way," she said, more quietly.

Strax heard.

And this time—

He smiled genuinely.

"Me too," he replied.

The flight continued.

Steady.

Stable.

And, for the first time since everything that had happened—

There was something there that wasn’t tension.

It was... normalcy. Even if temporary.

Even if fragile.

Still—

Real.

...

While the sky was cut by Scarlett’s tranquil flight, far away, beyond the mountains and known routes, Asgard did not remain still.

Quite the contrary.

Asgard grew.

The sound that dominated the territory was no longer just the wind passing between ancient structures or the distant echo of isolated footsteps—now there was rhythm, there was coordinated movement, there was life pulsing intensely. Hammers struck against metal in an almost musical sequence, voices crossed in orders and quick responses, the creaking of wood being adjusted, the dragging of stones, the sound of magic being woven as part of everyday life.

Everything there was expanding.

And at the center of it—

Monica.

She walked among the newly erected structures with firm steps, her attentive gaze scanning every detail with almost surgical precision. Her hair moved slightly in the wind, but her posture didn’t budge an inch—there was confidence there, but not empty arrogance. It was control. It was direction.

Beside her, Beatrice held a set of scrolls, arranged in layers, marked with quick notes and symbols that only they fully understood. Her eyes moved between the documents and the surrounding environment, mentally adjusting everything she saw to what had been planned.

"East sector is ahead of schedule," Beatrice commented, her voice calm but purposeful. "They finished the base of the walls ahead of schedule."

Monica nodded slightly, without stopping walking.

"Great," she replied. "Redirect some of them to the inner district. We need to close that area before nightfall."

Beatrice was already making a note before the sentence was even finished.

"And the magical reinforcement?" she asked.

Monica turned slightly toward one of the partially constructed towers, where a group of conjurers worked together, forming a luminous pattern that intertwined like an invisible net.

"I want it doubled," she said without hesitation. "We’re not going to build something big only to find out it’s fragile."

Beatrice looked up quickly.

"That will double the resource consumption."

Monica stopped.

Not abruptly.

But enough to emphasize the importance of the moment.

She turned to face Beatrice, her gaze direct and firm.

"Then we double the resources," she replied simply, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world.

There was a brief silence.

And then—

Beatrice smiled slightly.

"Right."

And she wrote it down.

Further ahead, Samira emerged between two groups of workers, her greatsword resting on her shoulder as if it were a natural extension of her own body. She wasn’t there merely as a force—her presence was commanding, intimidating when necessary, but also secure.

"Monica," she called, approaching with long strides. "The southern area had a small problem."

Monica showed no surprise.

"Delay?" she asked.

Samira shook her head.

"Resistance," she replied. "Some of the newcomers weren’t... in sync."

Beatrice looked up slightly from the scrolls.

Monica crossed her arms, thoughtful for a second.

"And now?" she asked.

Samira shrugged, a slight smile appearing at the corner of her lips.

"Now they’re in sync," she said.

Monica held her gaze for a moment.

And then nodded.

"Good."

No more questions.

No need.

In the distance, Cassandra coordinated a series of logistical operations, her clear voice echoing among different groups as she organized the distribution of materials, transport routes, and the positioning of teams with almost absurd efficiency. Nothing escaped her notice—every delay was corrected before it became a real problem.

Daniela, on the other hand, was positioned near one of the innermost areas, overseeing the magical flow that fueled some of the more complex constructions. Her fingers moved in the air, adjusting small variations in energy with delicate precision, as if tuning an invisible instrument.

Bella moved between the groups, ensuring that no one was overstepping physical or magical boundaries, her gentler approach contrasting with the intense rhythm around her, but no less important. She maintained the balance—which prevented the expansion from becoming destructive.

And then—

Xenovia.

She stood atop one of the tallest structures ever completed, observing everything from above, her arms crossed, her sharp gaze following every movement below as if assessing not only the progress but the potential of it all.

"It’s working," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

And it was.

Asgard wasn’t growing haphazardly.

It wasn’t chaos trying to structure itself.

It was a plan.

A plan executed with precision.

And at its center—

Monica resumed walking.

"General status?" she asked, without looking at anyone in particular.

Beatrice answered.

"Expansion exceeding expectations. Resources under control. Pace... accelerated."

Monica let out a small sigh through her nose.

"Accelerated is good," she said. "As long as we can sustain it."

Samira was walking beside her now.

"And can we?" she asked.

Monica looked around.

The buildings.

The people.

The energy.

The movement.

"...We will succeed," she replied.

There was confidence there.

But also responsibility.

She wasn’t just leading.

She was building something.

Something that couldn’t fail.

Beatrice closed one of the scrolls with a sharp movement.

"And the plan?" she asked, more quietly. Monica slowed her pace for a moment.

Her eyes turned to the distant horizon.

Where Strax had left.

"...It’s already begun," she said.

Samira let out a small laugh.

"I still can’t believe you managed to get us all aligned on this."

Monica smiled slightly.

"Neither can I," she admitted.

But it worked.

Because it wasn’t about competition.

It wasn’t about ego.

It was about him.

And about what they were building together.

In the distance, a new structure began to rise, stones being positioned with the aid of magic while runes slowly lit up along the base, indicating that this was not just ordinary architecture.

It was something bigger.

Something prepared.

"When he returns..." Beatrice murmured.

Monica finished.

"He’ll find something different."

Samira rested her greatsword on the ground, looking around with a glint of approval. "Something better."

"Something better."