"That is… quite an astounding revelation you've brought forth, Princess," King Valemir said, his tone poised yet laced with intrigue. The faint glimmer in his blue eyes reflected a mix of curiosity and disbelief as Serah's words hung heavily in the air.

Across the chamber, King Tharion leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair as he recited her words with deliberate precision. "So… Blood Demons are not one breed, but two distinct kinds—Purebloods and Redbloods. For decades, our battles have been waged against the lesser kind, the Redbloods—feral, ravenous predators—and all the while, the Purebloods have been lurking in the shadows, unseen, untouched, and far more intelligent." His eyes narrowed slightly, his voice firm. "And you claim they're stronger, smarter, and far more dangerous than the ones we've been fighting?"

"Yes," Serah answered simply, her voice steady and calm. "That's correct. The Purebloods are not like their savage counterparts. They are organized, cunning, and capable of mimicry and deception. They have been hiding in plain sight for centuries."

Valemir's sharp gaze fixed upon her. "And tell me, Princess… how exactly did you manage to defeat three of these creatures—these intelligent monsters—and still stand before us whole?" His tone was low, edged with skepticism.

Serah's lips curved faintly into something that wasn't quite a smile. "I never said I was left whole, Your Majesty." She straightened, her eyes glinting faintly under the light. "I bear the scars of that battle. If you doubt my words, I can show them."

Tharion's voice cut in immediately, a commanding tone overriding any doubt. "There's no need for that, Serah," he said, raising a hand. "You are my daughter, a warrior of Solara. No one should question your ability to stand against your enemies, no matter how formidable they may be. You've proven your mettle before."

Valemir side-glanced at Tharion, studying him for a brief moment before giving a low blink, his lips curling slightly. "Of course," he murmured. "I should have known better than to question the daughter of Solara's flame." Then he turned back to Serah. "Still, what you've revealed changes much. We must fortify our walls and our defenses immediately—these Purebloods, and most especially, the four additional Sync-class species you spoke of, the ones that have yet to reveal themselves upon Amthar… they could very well be the end of us if we remain unprepared."

"Indeed," Tharion agreed with a firm nod. "If our soldiers and mages remain trained only for the known demon breeds, then the first assault by these Purebloods—or whatever new species awaits us—will shatter our forces before we can even comprehend what struck us. It would be chaos."

"Pardon me," Serah said, her tone polite yet carrying an undercurrent of steel. "But if that's the case, shouldn't this discussion also involve the Tempest Kingdom? Without their cooperation and shared intelligence, we're leaving a third of Amthar defenseless. If the worst truly happens, and these demons rise in full strength, no border, no army, and no crown will stand. Without unity, Amthar is as good as dead."

Her words struck the air like a challenge, and a silence settled over the room. For a moment, neither king spoke—only the soft hiss of the fireplace filled the void.

At last, Tharion exhaled through his nose and leaned forward. "You speak true, Serah," he said, his tone measured. "But the Tempest Kingdom has made themselves clear. They still refuse to acknowledge the threat of the dark mages. While they claim their lands are free of such filth, they will not take the righteous step to purge them. Their reluctance—no, their arrogance—makes them unfit for alliance. Without their willingness to cleanse Amthar of darkness, they stand against the very balance we strive to protect. Solara and Crescent cannot bind themselves to a kingdom that shelters the cursed."

Serah's eyes widened slightly at his words, disbelief flashing across her face before she quickly masked it. 'He can't be serious…' she thought, her heart thudding in her chest. 'They plan to keep this information from the Tempest Kingdom? Just because they refuse this madness of "cleansing"? Are they really that blinded by their own sanctimonious pride?'

Meanwhile, Valemir smiled faintly and nodded in full agreement. "Your reasoning is sound, King Tharion. We cannot unite with those who tolerate darkness in any form. To stand beside them would be to invite corruption into our sanctuaries."

'They're worse than I thought,' Serah mused bitterly, hiding the storm within her behind a calm mask. 'I've given them far too much credit… far too much hope that reason still lingered within them.'

Her gaze flicked toward Caelum, who remained behind her—still and composed. Not a flicker of expression crossed his features, yet his silence told her everything. His golden eyes gleamed faintly with the same righteous conviction as Valemir's, the same quiet acceptance of their so-called purity.

'Tch.' Serah's jaw tightened subtly. 'And he wishes to wed me… with that poisoned view of the world? Over my dead body.'

Tharion leaned back again, resting his palms on the table. "In the end, Princess," he said, his tone firm, almost ceremonial, "the information you've given us today—about the Blood Demons, the Purebloods, and the unrevealed four—must remain strictly between our two kingdoms. This knowledge is not for the Tempest Kingdom. Not yet. It will be used solely to strengthen our armies, to forge better defenses, and to protect the lands of Solara and Crescent."

Valemir inclined his head slightly, his voice smooth as oil. "For the good of Amthar, of course. The fewer who know, the safer the truth remains."

Serah bowed her head faintly, though the motion was hollow. Beneath that composed exterior, her mind burned with silent fury. 'For the good of Amthar,' she repeated inwardly. 'No… for the good of your own pride.'

And as the kings continued their discussion, Serah quietly excused herself and left the office, heading back to her chamber.

***

"I should've waited for a better time to tell them," Serah muttered under her breath as she stepped into her chamber, closing the heavy door behind her with a soft thud. She exhaled deeply, her shoulders sinking under the weight of the day. "A situation where the Tempest Kingdom wouldn't have been left out," she murmured as her hands reached for the golden clasps of her official attire, undoing them one by one until the regal fabric slipped off her shoulders.

The rustle of fabric was followed by a familiar, teasing voice echoing from the corner of the room.

"Wow, for someone who just got back from spending quality time with their lover, you look like you've already aged ten years."

Serah froze mid-motion, her head turning slightly toward the sound. There, leaning lazily against the polished marble counter of her personal bar, was none other than her younger brother—Galen Magna. His signature smirk was already in place, a glass of red wine swirling idly in his hand. His silver hair was a bit messier than usual, his red eyes sparkling with mischief.

"How've you been, sis?" Galen asked, flashing her a wink as if he hadn't just snuck into her private chambers unannounced.

Serah arched an eyebrow at him, lips curving faintly. "I've been good," she replied after studying him for a moment. "What about you? I heard you finished your training and Father finally sent you on your first mission."

"Yep," Galen said, popping the 'p' as he walked away from the counter and dropped himself into one of her lounge chairs like he owned the place. "Got back earlier today, actually. Supposed to report to Father about it, but that's not happening. He's busy playing politics with King Valemir at the moment."

"You know he'll still listen to you," Serah said with a suspicious look, crossing her arms. "If it's about your mission, he won't dismiss you."

"Oh, I know he will," Galen said with a lazy grin. "But that doesn't mean I'm going in there. Between Valemir and that lovestruck Grand Marshall of his—what's his name again? Virellan?—ugh. Both of them give me the itch. And not the good kind."

That earned a soft chuckle from Serah. She shook her head and smiled as she moved to sit opposite him. "Tell me about it. I just spent half my day with both of them, and I'm already ready to set something on fire."

"I'll take your word for it," Galen said, then tilted his head, studying her face more closely. "So… what's got you all worked up this time?"

Serah hesitated, then let out a quiet sigh. "I told Father and King Valemir about what I discovered—about the Blood Demons being divided into two kinds, Purebloods and Redbloods, and the four new Sync-class species that haven't shown themselves yet."

"And?" Galen asked, swirling the last of his wine.

"And they decided that the Tempest Kingdom doesn't deserve to know any of it," she said bitterly. "Because they won't support the so-called 'cleansing' of dark mages."

Galen didn't even look surprised. He leaned back in his chair, his tone dry. "Yeah, that sounds exactly like something they'd say. Can't say I'm shocked."

Serah's lips pressed into a thin line. "I shouldn't be either," she said quietly. "But I guess… I still had hope that they'd be better than that."

For a moment, the room went quiet except for the faint crackle of the enchanted hearth in the corner. Then Galen sighed and, as if flipping a switch, his expression brightened mischievously. "Well, enough about Father and his royal hypocrisy. Tell me about Marcus. How'd things go with your dark, long-haired pretty boy, huh?"

Serah gave him a flat, unimpressed look. "Really?"

"Really," Galen said without missing a beat. "I mean, c'mon, I know that's why you left. Don't even try to deny it. So spill it—how was your little romantic getaway?"

A soft smile tugged at the corner of Serah's lips. "It was great," she said, leaning back in her chair. "I met his father too, actually. Had… a lot of fun."

Galen's eyes widened, his grin spreading like wildfire. "A lot of fun, huh? Does that mean you two finally—" he leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice with a teasing smirk, "—did the deed?"

Serah's eyes widened and her cheeks immediately flushed. "What?! No, we didn't have sex, you idiot!" she said, her voice shooting up an octave.

Galen grinned even wider, clearly enjoying himself. "Oh, come on. How am I supposed to believe that when your skin's practically glowing and you look all refreshed and radiant? Please, Serah, I know that look. You two definitely had some good time."

Before he could say another word, Serah's hand lifted, a sphere of crimson fire bursting to life in her palm. The flames crackled dangerously, casting fiery reflections in her sharp eyes.

"Keep talking about sex," she said evenly, her tone sweet but deadly, "and I'll burn you where you stand, little brother."

Galen froze instantly, the color draining from his face. He raised his hands slowly in mock surrender, flashing a nervous smile. "Y-Yes, ma'am."

Serah held his gaze for another second before sighing and letting the fireball fade away. "You really are a pain, you know that?"

"I prefer 'talented conversationalist,'" Galen said smugly, settling back in his chair.

"I bet you do," she said, rolling her eyes.

He chuckled softly, then stretched his arms behind his head. "Alright, alright, enough about your scandalous love life—or lack thereof. How about you fill me in on your journey, sis? C'mon, I've been dying to hear about it." His grin returned, boyish and eager, like a kid demanding sweets from his older sibling.

Serah looked at him for a moment, then smiled softly and shook her head. "You never change, do you?" she said fondly.

"Not planning to," he said with a wink.

Settling back comfortably in her chair, Serah folded her legs beneath her and began to recount her story away from everything.