Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 820: The Celestial Emperor

The silence that followed Strax’s decision was uncomfortable.

It was... heavy.

As if each one there was still evaluating, recalculating, accepting—or rejecting—what had been decided.

Strax let his gaze sweep across the table one last time.

Each face.

Each reaction.

Kali, clearly dissatisfied.

Rogue, almost amused.

Scarlet, intrigued.

Ouroboros, satisfied.

Tiamat... motionless.

He took a deep breath.

"We leave in two days."

The sentence landed like a stone.

Simple.

Direct.

But enough to reorganize everything.

Samira was the first to react.

"Two days?" she repeated, frowning slightly. "That’s... not enough."

"It’s enough," Strax replied, without hesitation.

Yennefer tilted her head slightly.

"Or that’s exactly what they want it to look like."

Cristine smiled slightly.

"Strategic pressure."

Beatrice nodded.

"They’re controlling the pace."

Strax didn’t deny it.

"Yes."

Silence again.

But this time—

More focused.

More... functional.

"So, no wasting time," Mionica said, already adopting a more practical stance. "We need to define preparation, appearance, protocol..."

"Weapons," Kali added immediately.

Samira looked at her.

"Discreet."

Kali rolled her eyes.

"Boring."

Rogue gave a small smile.

"Necessary."

Cassandra spoke firmly:

"We need to understand what’s expected of us. This isn’t just a visit."

Kryssia nodded.

"It’s a test."

Xyn finished, with her usual calm:

"Probably multiple."

Scarlet twirled the glass slightly between her fingers.

"I love it when they try to test us..."

Ouroboros smiled softly.

"And you love breaking the rules."

Scarlet looked up at her.

"Only when they’re boring."

Tiamat spoke, without looking directly at either of them:

"Then don’t break them."

Simple.

Dry.

Final.

Scarlet tilted her head, still smiling.

"It depends on how much they deserve it."

Strax tapped his finger lightly on the table.

Once.

That was enough.

"The three of you will represent all of this."

He didn’t raise his voice.

But there was weight in it.

"Every word... every gesture... every silence."

He looked directly at Scarlet.

"Control."

Then to Ouroboros.

"Precision."

And then to Tiamat.

"Authority."

None of them answered.

But they all understood.

Strax stood up.

The movement was slow, but decisive.

"You have two days."

He began to walk away from the table.

"Prepare yourselves."

He took a few steps.

And then stopped.

Without turning around.

"And don’t cause any trouble."

Kali let out a low laugh.

"No promises."

Scarlet rested her chin on her hand.

"I can try..."

Ouroboros closed her eyes, smiling.

"I can’t."

A slight silence.

And then—

Strax let out an almost imperceptible sigh.

"That’s exactly what worries me."

And he left.

The hall door closed behind him with a dry sound. For a few seconds—

No one spoke.

The leader had left.

But the tension...

No.

"So," Daniela was the first to break the silence, leaning forward. "We accept this as it is?"

Rogue shrugged.

"I think it’s amusing."

Kali tapped her finger on the table.

"I think it’s absurd."

Cassandra crossed her arms.

"I think it’s logical."

Samira sighed.

"I think we have no choice."

Mionica nodded.

"He’s already decided."

Kali looked at Tiamat.

"And you helped."

Tiamat didn’t answer.

Which, in a way, was an answer.

Scarlet watched everything, silent now.

Unlike before.

Thinking.

Calculating.

"Three," she murmured, almost to herself. "There are three of us."

Ouroboros tilted her head.

"And does that bother you?"

Scarlet smiled slightly.

"No."

A pause.

"But it makes me curious."

Rogue rested her arm on the table.

"About what?"

Scarlet looked directly at Tiamat.

"About who’s really in control."

Silence.

Heavy.

But different.

It wasn’t confrontation.

It was... recognition.

Tiamat held her gaze.

Without looking away.

Without answering.

Ouroboros just watched.

Amused.

"This," she said softly, "will be interesting."

Beatrice stood slowly.

"Well... someone needs to make sure you don’t show up dressed like you’re going to start a war."

Kali raised her hand. "I vote for full armor."

"Denied," Samira replied immediately.

Cristine laughed.

"I’d pay to see it."

Yennefer was already standing.

"We need to study imperial protocols."

Kryssia nodded.

"Hierarchy."

Xyn completed.

"Etiquette."

Daniela grimaced.

"I hate etiquette."

Cassandra looked at her.

"Then learn it."

Rogue stood up as well.

"Or ignore it and deal with the consequences."

Scarlet stood up last among the three.

Ouroboros was already standing.

Tiamat... never seemed to really sit down.

The trio was formed now.

Without announcement.

Without ceremony.

But evident.

"Two days..." Scarlet said, walking slowly around the table. "This is going to be fun."

Ouroboros smiled.

"Or fatal."

Tiamat finally spoke:

"It depends on you."

Scarlet glanced at her sideways.

"No."

A slow smile.

"I think it depends on them."

Silence.

And then—

A slight laugh.

Low.

Dangerous.

The game had begun.

And no one there...

Intended to play carefully.

...

The Imperial Palace loomed above the capital like a deity watching over its own domain.

It wasn’t just large.

It was colossal.

A structure that defied not only architecture... but logic itself.

Its foundations didn’t touch the ground. Enormous slabs of white stone floated in perfect harmony, supported by currents of golden energy that pulsed like living veins. Endless columns rose towards the sky, sculpted with stories of bygone eras—forgotten wars, fallen gods, emperors who had shaped the world with their own hands.

Around them, concentric rings slowly orbited the palace, each containing hanging gardens, crystalline lakes, and smaller structures where nobles, generals, and scholars lived.

Below...

The capital.

A city impossible to measure.

Crystal towers, streets as wide as battlefields, crowds that seemed like ants before the grandeur of the empire. And above it all...

The Palace.

The heart.

The absolute symbol of power.

And at that moment...

The great golden gates were open.

Within the palace corridors, the silence was absolute.

Not empty silence...

But disciplined silence.

Every step echoed.

Every movement was observed.

Every breath seemed calculated.

And it was in this environment that she walked.

Her high heels touched the black marble floor with rhythmic precision.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

She didn’t run.

She didn’t hesitate.

She didn’t look away.

Her walk was fluid, confident... elegant.

Dressed in light fabrics perfectly tailored to her body, adorned with golden details that reflected the ambient light, she seemed to belong there as much as the walls.

Her hair fell in perfectly controlled waves, and her gaze...

Was sharp.

Cold.

Calculated.

She wasn’t just an employee.

She was a presence.

Guards lined up along the corridor didn’t look directly at her, but they recognized her.

And respected her.

As she approached the large doors of the Throne Room, two soldiers stepped forward.

Their armor gleamed with arcane inscriptions, and their spears vibrated slightly with energy.

They crossed weapons.

And then—

One of them announced.

The voice echoed through the corridor.

—The First Secretary of the Throne... is present.

The spears rose.

The doors opened.

Slowly.

Heavily.

Revealing the interior.

The Throne Room was...

Immense.

There was no other word.

Columns rose so high they disappeared into the darkness of the ceiling. Giant tapestries descended the walls, each telling stories of imperial conquests. The floor reflected like a mirror, polished to the point of appearing liquid.

In the center...

A long path.

Leading to a staircase.

And at the top of that staircase...

A veil.

A long, translucent silk cloth hung from above like a celestial curtain.

Behind it...

A silhouette.

Undefined.

But unmistakable.

The Emperor.

The Secretary entered.

Without haste.

Without looking to the sides.

Her footsteps echoed in the emptiness of the room.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

She didn’t seem intimidated.

But she wasn’t arrogant either.

She was...

Precise.

Upon reaching the base of the stairs, she stopped.

Her eyes lifted slightly.

Without directly meeting the figure behind the veil.

But recognizing it.

Respecting it.

And then—

She spoke.

Her voice was clear.

Controlled.

Professional.

"Your Majesty... I bring updates from the North."

Silence.

She continued.

"In the last few weeks, four cities have been taken."

A brief pause.

"All under the control of a single name."

Another moment.

"Strax."

The name echoed.

But the veil didn’t move.

No visible reaction.

Still...

She knew he was listening.

He always was.

"The takeovers were quick... decisive... and, so far, organized."

She maintained a neutral tone.

"There are no signs of gratuitous destruction. Nor indiscriminate massacres."

A slight tilt of her head.

"On the contrary... reports indicate structure. Administration. Control."

Now—

This was relevant.

Because it wasn’t common.

Conquerors destroyed.

They ruled through fear.

But this...

It was different.

She continued.

"The forces initially sent... failed."

A pause.

"The Monarch of the White Flames was defeated."

A slight shift in the fabric.

Almost imperceptible.

"The Monarch of the Beasts... too."

The silence deepened.

And then—

She said.

"However..."

A pause.

"The Monarch of Ice made contact with him."

Now—

There was weight.

"And there was no hostility."

The air seemed to change.

The first real alteration.

Not visible.

But present.

She raised her gaze slightly.

Still without looking directly.

"Reports indicate... dialogue."

Silence.

Long. Dense.

And then—

A voice came from behind the veil.

Calm.

Deep.

Unhurried.

But impossible to ignore.

"Interesting..."

The word echoed throughout the room.

It wasn’t spoken aloud.

But it filled everything.

The Secretary maintained her posture.

Immobile.

"A man who conquers... but doesn’t destroy..."

A pause.

"Who defeats... but doesn’t exterminate..."

The fabric rippled slightly.

As if a nonexistent breeze had passed.

"And what a conversation... when it should impose."

Silence.

And then—

A slight change in tone.

"That’s rare."

Very rare.

The Secretary replied.

"I agree, Your Majesty."

She hesitated for a moment.

But only long enough to appear human.

"There’s more."

Silence allowed.

"Witnesses report... multiple presences around him."

A pause.

"Individual... powerful."

"Not ordinary subordinates."

Now—

That mattered.

"They are... strong. Very strong."

Another pause.

"Some... ancient."

The air seemed to grow heavier.

"Independent behavior... but aligned with him."

The Emperor didn’t respond immediately.

But his attention...

Increased.

"He’s not just a leader."

The Secretary concluded.

"He’s a point of convergence."

Silence.

And then—

A low sound.

Almost a laugh.

Contained.

"Fascinating..."

The veil moved slightly.

The silhouette behind it seemed to tilt its head.

"And he calls himself that?"

The Secretary answered promptly.

"There is no formal title registered."

A pause.

"Only the name."

"Strax."

Another silence.

But this time...

It wasn’t empty.

It was thought.

Calculation.

Analysis.

And then—

The Emperor spoke.

"A man without a title..."

A pause.

"Who conquers imperial territories..."

Another.

"And defeats appointed monarchs..."

The fabric rippled again.

"Without declaring war."

Silence.

"He is bold..."

Slower.

"Or extremely confident."

The Secretary kept her gaze fixed ahead.

"Or both."

A brief silence.

And then—

A change.

Subtle.

But definitive.

"Write a letter. The words came without hesitation."

Without a doubt.

Without consultation.

An order.

The Secretary didn’t move.

But she answered immediately.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The Emperor continued.

"Formal."

A pause.

"But not submissive."

Another.

"Direct..."

"But not aggressive."

He seemed to choose each word with surgical precision.

"I want... to meet you."