Chapter 889: Strax humiliated the Monarchs before the Celestial Emperor.

The monumental doors of the hall remained open when Strax crossed the threshold without looking back. His footsteps echoed through the outer corridors with the same insolent calm as always, as if he were leaving a boring tavern and not the most powerful court on the continent. Scarlett walked beside him with a smile too satisfied to be discreet. Tiamat walked a few steps behind, laughing to herself at irregular intervals as she recalled each offended expression she had seen. Ouroboros, on the other hand, kept her hand on her forehead, already anticipating the political storm that lay behind them.

As the doors began to slowly close, the heavy sound of the structure sealing the hall seemed to release something that everyone present had been repressing since the arrival of that visitor. The controlled silence crumbled first in their gazes. Then in their postures. Then in their words.

Aelyra was the first to move.

She advanced to the center of the destroyed hall and stopped beside the crater where one of the other Monarchs was still trying to recover his dignity. Her chest rose and fell with breaths too measured to be natural. The blood that had trickled from the corner of her mouth had been wiped away, but the red mark on her skin still betrayed the impact. Her fingers trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the contained rage of someone who had never been repelled in this way in front of witnesses.

"This was unacceptable," she said, her voice low and sharp as polished metal. "He came in here, insulted this court, assaulted one of us, destroyed its architecture, and left laughing."

None of the others responded immediately, not out of disagreement, but because many felt exactly the same.

The Monarch who had been buried in the ground finally freed himself from the rubble with the help of two silent servants. He was a broad man, with dense muscles and a marked jaw, now covered in dust and humiliation. His neck bore clear purplish marks where Strax’s hand had held him. His eyes burned with shame more than pain.

"I caught him off guard," he growled, trying to regain some authority. "If I had room to really fight, I’d rip his head off."

Some glanced sideways. No one believed him.

A tall man in dark robes, known for ruling the northern mountainous regions, let out a short, humorless laugh.

"You had enough space to be buried."

The tension immediately rose. The wounded Monarch turned toward the comment, ready to respond violently, but held back upon noticing the Emperor’s impassive gaze still at the back of the hall.

Another figure then stepped forward, a woman with golden hair tied in stiff braids and armor adorned with solar symbols. Her expression showed less impulsive and more calculated contempt.

"The problem isn’t just his strength," she said. "It’s the precedent. If this spreads, cities and nobles will begin to question why they fear us. A stranger comes in here, challenges us, and walks away alive."

"He didn’t leave alive by our mercy," retorted another Monarch, shrouded in dark green robes. "He left because His Majesty allowed it."

This sentence shifted the focus of many gazes.

For a few seconds, no one spoke directly to the Celestial Emperor, but many began to observe him like starving men watching fire from a distance: dependent on it, frustrated with it, unable to confront it.

The Emperor remained near the throne, contemplating the destruction on the floor as one appreciates interesting cracks in an ancient piece. One hand rested on the arm of the structure. The other again held the small cup that no one had ever seen him fill or empty completely.

Aelyra was the first to break through the implicit barrier.

"Your Majesty," she said, controlling each syllable with visible effort. "With all due respect... why is he still breathing?"

The entire hall became attentive.

The Emperor slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. There was no irritation in them. Just curious.

"Because I didn’t ask you to stop."

Aelyra clenched her jaw tightly.

"He attacked me."

"You attacked him first."

"After he insulted me."

"So now we kill everyone who insults someone here?" asked the Emperor, with almost lazy gentleness. "We’d have to start with half of this room."

Some lowered their eyes. Others feigned no reaction. Tiamat would have laughed if she were still there.

Aelyra remained motionless, but the blush on her face betrayed her renewed humiliation.

The Monarch of the mountains crossed his arms and spoke in a dry tone.

"Your Majesty, excuse me. This is not merely wounded pride. This being has seized territories from two dead Monarchs, affronted your authority, and demonstrated enough power to threaten the current balance. If we do not act now, he will grow even larger."

"He is already growing," replied the Emperor.

"Then we must contain him."

"With whom?" asked the Emperor, looking around. "With you? With him?" he pointed slightly at the Monarch still covered in dust. "Or with Aelyra, who has just discovered that sea winds do not break ancient scales?"

The verbal blow was clean and immediate.

Some hid smiles. Others stiffened even more. Aelyra seemed ready to explode again, but held back for the second time in just a few minutes.

An older, thin Monarch with deep-set eyes and fingers adorned with black rings decided to speak more cautiously.

"Your Majesty, so what is your reading?"

Finally, the question that mattered.

The Emperor set his cup down beside the throne and rose slowly. His presence effortlessly rearranged the room. Where before there had been a collection of wounded egos, now there were subjects remembering why they occupied those positions.

"My reading," he said, walking between the cracks in the floor, "is that you have spent too much time defeating lesser enemies."

No one dared interrupt.

"You have become accustomed to kingdoms that yield after displays of strength. To nobles who tremble before titles. To armies that collapse at the first roar. Then you have found something that is not impressed."

He stopped before the crater and observed the devastation with genuine interest.

"And that infuriates them."

The wounded Monarch looked away.

Aelyra took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Your Majesty, I do not fear that monster."

"No," replied the Emperor. "You fear what it reveals."

She fell silent.

The Emperor continued walking.

"It reveals that many here have become decorative. Powerful, yes. Useful, sometimes. Dangerous, when provoked. But predictable."

The sentence landed like a hammer.

The solar Monarch clenched his fists. The mountain Monarch hardened his posture. The green-robed Monarch narrowed his eyes. Each of them had been struck in some way.

"And you find this amusing?" asked Aelyra, unable to contain her bitterness.

This time, the Emperor smiled openly.

"Immensely."

The entire hall seemed to freeze for another reason.

He was truly enjoying himself.

"For decades," he continued, "the discussions in this court have followed the same pattern. Smaller borders. Trade tariffs. Territorial vanities. Petty conspiracies disguised as strategy. Today, for the first time in a long time, someone has entered here asking for nothing, fearing no one, and acknowledging the symbolic value you venerate."

His eyes swept over everyone.

"That’s refreshing."

Aelyra turned her face away, incredulous.

"He humiliated us."

"Yes," said the Emperor. "And you collaborated."

Some swallowed hard.

The Monarch in green robes tried to regain ground.

"So you intend to tolerate him indefinitely?"

"I intend to observe him."

"Until he takes more territories?"

"Territories from whom?" asked the Emperor. "From the dead? From the incompetent? From those who attack him out of pride?"

No one answered.

The Emperor returned to the center of the hall.

"Listen carefully. Do not provoke him without real reason. Do not underestimate him. Do not attempt ridiculous ambushes to satisfy wounded honor. And, above all, do not make me waste time putting out fires that you yourselves started."

The order was clear.

Aelyra stepped forward.

"And if he challenges me again?"

"Then win."

She stood motionless.

"And if I can’t?"

"Learn why you couldn’t."

The silence that followed this answer was brutal.

For the first time since the confrontation, Aelyra’s fury mingled with something harder to accept: doubt.

The elder Monarch with black rings inclined his head slightly.

"Your Majesty, do you believe he truly intends to confront the gods?"

The Emperor glanced at the closed doors through which Strax had exited.

"Yes."

"And do you believe he can?"

"I don’t know," he replied with quiet honesty. "But I believe he will try."

This produced a new wave of unease.

To men accustomed to calculating power in numbers, troops, and borders, someone willing to march against deities was incomprehensible. Insane, perhaps. Or dangerously free.

Aelyra finally spoke in a lower tone.

"So that’s why you let him go."

"Among other reasons."

"Which ones?"

The Emperor smiled again.

"I wanted to see which of you would reveal your true nature under pressure."

Now they understood.

The meeting had never been just about Strax.

It had also been a test.

The buried Monarch had shown impulsiveness. Aelyra had revealed inflammable pride. Others had demonstrated silent cowardice, opportunistic calculation, or simple mediocrity. And the Emperor had recorded it all.

The resentment in the hall took on a new form.

They weren’t just humiliated by Strax.

They felt scrutinized.

"Your Majesty..." began the solar Monarch, measuring his words. "If this was a test, perhaps you should have informed us."

"If I had informed you," replied the Emperor, "you would have acted. I wanted to see who you are, not who you pretend to be."

No reply came.

Aelyra closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, there was less blind fury and more cold intent.

"Then allow me to correct him personally in the future."

"If he gives you real reason, yes."

"He already has."

"No. He wounded your ego. That’s not enough."

She clenched her teeth once more.

The Emperor resumed his throne and sat down with absolute tranquility.

"Dismissed."

Some left immediately, unable to remain any longer in that environment. Others withdrew slowly, exchanging glances laden with future calculations. The wounded Monarch departed without speaking to anyone. The one from the mountains left as rigid as stone. The solar one was already planning alliances.

Aelyra was the last among the exalted to remain.

She stopped a few meters before the throne. "He laughed at me."

The Emperor inclined his head.

"Yes."

"And that still amuses you?"

"It does."

She let out a long breath, holding back the urge to say more than she could.

"Then I will defeat him."

"Perhaps," said the Emperor. "But before that, you will need to defeat the version of yourself that rushed in to prove something."

That sentence struck her more deeply than any draconic breath.

Without answering, Aelyra turned and left.

When the hall was finally almost empty, only the Emperor and a few silent servants remained, beginning repairs on the broken stones.

The man at the entrance approached cautiously.

"Your Majesty... do you wish to pursue the group?"

The Emperor picked up his cup again.

"No."

"Do you wish to keep watch over them?"

"We already are."

"Do you wish to prepare for war?" The Emperor observed the main crack in the floor and smiled to himself.

"Not yet."

The servant hesitated.

"Then... what do you wish?"

He replied, looking at the closed doors.

"I want to see how far he’ll really go."

Outside, far down the palace corridors, the sound of Scarlett’s laughter could still be heard among the echoes of stone. And, for the first time in a long time, the Celestial Emperor found his court less boring.