Chapter 887: Want to be exterminated, shorty?

Strax remained motionless for a few seconds after the Celestial Emperor’s last reply, as if assessing not only the words, but their weight within that hall. The tension had shifted once more. It was no longer the direct friction between two men measuring strength or authority. Now there was something denser and less elegant: the feeling that the main conversation had ended, but there were too many spectators awaiting the next move. Strax had never appreciated this kind of atmosphere. Excessive diplomacy seemed to him merely delayed violence with better-chosen vocabulary.

He then slowly turned his face to one of the hall’s side pillars, where long shadows accumulated between perfectly calculated architectural cutouts. His eyes passed over another column, then a third, like someone counting pieces on a chessboard that pretended to be empty. Scarlett noticed the gesture first and offered a small smile. Tiamat also noticed. Ouroboros merely sighed, because she already knew what was coming.

"If that’s all," said Strax, turning back to face the Emperor, "then may I attack you now?"

The phrase fell across the hall like steel being dragged over stone. There was no shouting, no fury, no theatrics. He spoke as if asking if the meeting was over and if he could leave. Precisely for that reason, the impact was greater.

The man who remained near the entrance immediately stiffened his posture. Some hidden presences discreetly shifted positions behind the columns. The very air seemed to freeze the movement for a moment.

Strax continued before anyone could react.

"I don’t like these idiots hiding in the pillars watching me since I came in." He shrugged, with absolute nonchalance. "I’m a simple guy. If they’re going to attack, let them attack."

Scarlett let out a satisfied little laugh and crossed her arms, clearly enjoying herself more than she should. Tiamat tilted her head back for a moment, as if internally thanking someone for finally verbalizing the obvious. Ouroboros closed her eyes for a second, tired of the predictability of that group.

The Celestial Emperor did not move abruptly. Instead, he let out a small sigh and rested his hand on the armrest of the seat, like someone obliged to correct a poorly conducted formality.

"I apologize," he said calmly. "That wasn’t the intention."

Strax raised an eyebrow slightly.

"No?"

"No," replied the Emperor. "They weren’t there to ambush you. They just wanted to meet you."

Tiamat made a short, disbelieving sound through her nose. Scarlett laughed openly this time.

"Hidden behind columns?" she asked. "What a touching way to demonstrate curiosity."

The Emperor ignored the comment and kept his eyes on Strax.

"They are cautious. And, given recent circumstances, that’s not unreasonable."

Strax inclined his head slightly.

"Those must be his Monarchs, right?"

The question was direct, posed without formal respect or hesitation. The Emperor held the gaze for a few seconds and then nodded.

"Yes."

The following silence was brief, yet significant. The confirmation transformed the entire scene. This was not merely an audience between ruler and unwelcome visitor. It was also a silent inspection conducted by the continent’s greatest powers.

The Emperor then raised his voice just enough to reach the entire hall.

"You may leave."

For a moment nothing happened.

Then, the shadows began to move.

From the sides of the columns, from hidden corridors, from balconies integrated into the architecture and passages that seemed nonexistent, figures began to emerge one after another. Not in a rush, nor in military posture. They moved with the confidence of those who needed to demonstrate nothing to prove their worth. There were ten in total, distributing themselves naturally throughout the ample space, each presence distinct from the others.

Some radiated raw power like contained heat. Others seemed dangerous precisely because they demonstrated so little. There were suits of armor, cloaks, ceremonial fabrics, battle scars, territorial symbols, and calculated silences. None of them seemed ordinary, and none needed to announce themselves.

Scarlett observed each one with almost amused interest, like someone examining new toys. Tiamat kept her chin raised, staring at them without any deference. Ouroboros studied breathing patterns, distances, crossed glances, hidden priorities.

Strax only glanced quickly at everyone, as if browsing a shelf.

Then his eyes met a specific figure.

The Ice Monarch was among them, maintaining her usual cold composure. Her movements were restrained, elegant, and her serenity contrasted with the general tension of the environment. Strax nodded once to her, a simple and direct gesture.

"I want to go see that little one later."

Some of those present frowned, not immediately understanding. The Ice Monarch, however, instantly understood who he was referring to. A slight, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips.

"My territory is open whenever you need it," she replied without hesitation.

This provoked subtle reactions among the other Monarchs. Some exchanged glances. Others hardened their expressions. The simple fact that one of them responded cordially to Strax publicly already altered small political equations within the hall.

Strax then looked away and found Shalom among those present.

He said nothing.

Neither did Shalom.

It was merely a moment of silent recognition between two figures who had already measured each other before. Nothing needed to be verbalized. The past between them remained vivid enough to dispense with comment.

The Celestial Emperor observed everything in silence, registering each micro-reaction with almost clinical attention. Then he turned to the assembled group.

"Does anyone have anything to say?"

The question had barely finished crossing the air when one of the figures moved.

It was quick. Quick enough to startle ordinary observers. One of the Monarchs, a broad-shouldered man with an expression filled with barely concealed contempt, surged forward in an explosion of direct force. There was no warning, no further provocation, no explicit request for permission. Just impulse and aggression.

The ground cracked under the jolt.

Scarlett smiled immediately.

Tiamat let out a short laugh.

Ouroboros brought a hand to her face.

Strax didn’t even change his expression.

When the attacker appeared before him with his arm ready for impact, Strax had already moved. His hand advanced in a short, precise line, seizing the man’s neck mid-sentence as if interrupting someone inconvenient in the middle of a sentence.

The entire momentum died there.

For a second the attacker’s body still tried to continue, muscles straining direction, energy seeking discharge. It didn’t matter.

Strax swung his arm down and slammed it against the ground with brutal simplicity.

The impact exploded through the hall.

The black stone gave way in shattered waves. A crater opened beneath them, cracks running in wide circles across the perfectly polished surface. Dust and fragments rose into the air before being pushed away by the released pressure.

The man was buried up to his shoulders, his body trapped between debris, his eyes wide with pain and disbelief. Strax’s hand still remained on his neck.

He then tilted his head slightly and spoke in an almost friendly tone.

"Well, well... a dog attacking without its owner’s permission?"

The silence that followed was absolute.

None of the other Monarchs moved immediately. Even the most temperamental hesitated before the naturalness with which the aggression had been neutralized. It hadn’t been just about strength. It had been technical humiliation. The entire attack reduced to a childish mistake in less than a second.

Scarlett began to giggle softly, unable to hide her pleasure at the scene.

"I knew someone would do that."

Tiamat grinned sharply.

"It took longer than I thought."

Ouroboros massaged her temple with two fingers, already exhausted.

"There’s no such thing as a normal meeting with you."

The Ice Monarch remained motionless, though her eyes showed a discreet glint of interest. Shalom also didn’t interfere, observing the man trapped in the crater as if receiving confirmation of something already suspected.

The Celestial Emperor, for his part, didn’t explode in anger. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

He merely closed his eyes for a moment and breathed slowly, like a man whose patience had once again been tested by impulsive subordinates and impossible visitors.

When he opened them again, his voice came out calm.

"Release him."

Strax looked at him unhurriedly. "Will you bite again?"

"If you bite," replied the Emperor, "I’ll pull your teeth out myself."

The answer hung heavy in the hall, reminding everyone who still occupied the center of that structure.

Strax held the gaze for another second, then released the man’s neck and took a step back. The wounded Monarch coughed violently among the rubble, trying to catch his breath and regain his dignity simultaneously, failing at both.

Scarlett clapped twice, slowly and sarcastically.

"Excellent presentation."

Tiamat crossed her arms.

"Next."

The Emperor glanced sideways at the fallen man, then at the others.

"Does anyone else wish to test the hospitality of this court?"

No one answered.

And in that heavy silence, everyone understood that the real audience had only just begun.

Strax observed the man still partially submerged in the crater for a few more seconds, as if confirming that there would be no equally stupid second attempt. Then he looked up at the other Monarchs scattered around the hall. None advanced. None spoke. Some hid their irritation, others recalculated their posture, and some simply avoided showing any clear emotion. For Strax, that was enough of an answer.

He let out a small sigh, shrugged slightly, and began to move away from the center of the destruction as if losing interest in a poorly conducted conversation. His footsteps echoed on the cracked floor without any hurry. Scarlett immediately smiled, recognizing that tone even before he spoke. Tiamat also seemed to be enjoying herself. Ouroboros closed her eyes for a moment, because she knew exactly the social damage that would follow.

"Apparently," said Strax, in a calm and perfectly audible voice, "there really isn’t any challenge here."

The sentence pierced the entire hall like a polished blade. Some of those present stiffened instantly. Others glanced at the Celestial Emperor, gauging his reaction. The man still trapped in the rubble coughed with muffled anger, but couldn’t even lift his body.

Strax continued walking, without looking back.

"I’m leaving now."

He then paused for half a second, just long enough to add the last part with a slight trace of boredom.

"I confess I’m disappointed."

The impact of that sentence was greater than that of the crater.

The previous attack could be explained as impulse, mistake, wounded vanity. This was not. This was outright rejection. Not just of the assembled Monarchs, but of the symbolic prestige of the entire meeting. It was saying that the summit of that continent wasn’t worth his time.

Scarlett brought her hand to her mouth to hide a laugh she didn’t really intend to hide. Tiamat let out a satisfied nasal sound and crossed her arms with even more comfort. Ouroboros slowly massaged her forehead.

"He really doesn’t know how to leave anywhere in peace," she murmured.

The Celestial Emperor remained seated, observing Strax with steady attention. He didn’t seem surprised, nor offended. There was something closer to patient curiosity in his gaze, as if he were witnessing an inevitable phenomenon.

Then a female voice cut through the hall.

"Where exactly did you get so much arrogance?"

The shout wasn’t hysterical, but laden with genuine indignation. It came from the right side, firm enough to even interrupt the echoes of Strax’s footsteps. Several heads turned at once. One of the Monarchs advanced.

She stepped out of the line with decisive strides, without waiting for permission and without concern for protocol. Tall, impeccable posture, aggressively refined presence. Her long hair cascaded in dark waves over armor adorned with light plates and metallic details that seemed more noble than defensive. The fabric beneath the armor was deep and elegant, cut for movement, not for parade. There were discreet jewels on her hands and neck, not as common vanity, but as symbols of consolidated status.

Her face was severely beautiful. Fine features, a firm jaw, eyes too intense to be called merely beautiful. They held the kind of pride built over centuries of victory, received obedience, and absence of royal challenge. Each of her steps said she was used to entering any place as the natural center of attention.

And now she was furious that she wasn’t.

Strax stopped walking and turned only his head first, looking over his shoulder at her. Then he turned his whole body with a calm, disinterested tone, like someone surprised by a minor interruption on the way out.

His eyes scanned the Monarch’s figure from head to toe without any hurry. There was no lust, admiration, or caution in the gesture. It was pure, objective assessment.

Then he asked:

"Who are you?"

The question struck deeper than a direct insult would have.

The entire hall felt the immediate change in her expression. Not being recognized by someone who had just humiliated a Monarch in front of everyone was offensive. But being asked in that way—as if she were too irrelevant to have already been introduced—was worse.

Scarlett turned her face away and began to laugh openly.

"So effortlessly cruel."

Tiamat grinned broadly.

"I like her. She’ll explode in five seconds."

Ouroboros merely sighed once more.

The Monarch continued advancing until she stopped a few meters from Strax. The air around her felt warmer, though no flame appeared. It wasn’t a visible element. It was pressure. Disciplined power beginning to escape the edges of containment.

"I am Aelyra, Monarch of the Stormy Tides," she said, each word sharp and controlled. "Lady of the southern ports, guardian of the ocean routes, and commander of fleets that would wipe out half your territories in a week."

Strax listened in silence.

Then he tilted his head slightly.

"Right."

The only possible comment seemed to irritate her even more.

She took another step.

"And what do I think I’m doing?" she repeated, answering the implied second part before he even did. "I’m correcting the posture of a man who entered this room confusing momentary strength with absolute superiority."

Strax blinked once, slowly.

"Man?" he questioned. "I’m not even a man." Strax spoke as his body contorted, transforming into a huge White Dragon.

"Want to be exterminated, shorty?"