The butler continues quietly, "My lord… our informants report the entire army has been annihilated. Both city lords are dead. Sir Randon is dead. Baron Grell is… presumed dead as well."

Charles opens his eyes.

"Presumed?" he asks.

"There was… nothing left to identify," the butler says carefully. "The field is covered with bodies. And the Baron's seal was found shattered."

Charles leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers.

He stands, walking toward the tall window overlooking the inner courtyard. He stares out at the training soldiers below, but his mind is elsewhere.

"And Grell's territory?" he asks.

The butler lowers his head.

"In chaos, my lord. With the city lords dead, there is no authority. No soldiers left to maintain order. Looting has already begun. If nothing is done, both cities will collapse within days."

The butler waits patiently.

Charles turns back toward him.

"Send General Jared."

The butler stiffens. "General Jared? At once, my lord."

Charles nods. "Tell him to move immediately. Stabilize Grell's two cities, reestablish the chain of command, and secure all administrative buildings."

"Yes, Duke Charles."

"Also," Charles adds, tone colder, "tell him to investigate Nam City quietly. At a distance. No engagement. I don't need another corpse on my payroll."

The butler bows deeply.

"As you command."

He hurries out of the chamber.

Left alone, Charles taps a finger against the glass as he gazes out the window.

"A peak Tier 6… and a high-tier 6s… emerging out of nowhere," he murmurs.

"And Grell's entire army slaughtered in less than a day."

A spark of curiosity flickers in his eyes.

"…Just what happened in that city?"

----

Alix's room is quiet, the morning light filtering through the curtains in thin, warm stripes. The wooden floor is spotless, the air calm—except for one small, sulking dragon.

Zevran lies on his belly in his miniature dragon form, wings drooping, tail limp on the floor. The empty vial of true dragon blood sits between him and Alix, as if taunting him personally.

His golden eyes look up miserably.

"Master… I'm sorry. I disappoint you," Zevran says, voice small and shaky.

Alix crouches down, expression firm but not disappointed—just thoughtful. He reaches out and lifts Zevran's chin gently with a finger. The dragon's scales feel warmer than usual.

"Zevran," Alix says, calm and steady, "you didn't disappoint me."

"But I didn't break through…" Zevran murmurs, looking away.

"You absorbed it," Alix corrects him. "That alone is impressive. True dragon blood isn't something just anyone can handle."

Zevran's tail gives a weak twitch, but he still looks unconvinced.

Floating nearby like a fluffy annoyed balloon, Mero crosses his tiny cotton-ball arms.

"Oi, lizard," Mero says, poking Zevran's head with a small tendril. "Why are you sulking? You did absorb it. That's the hard part. Now you just need something to trigger the activation."

Zevran turns to him, eyes wide. "Something… to activate it?"

Mero bobs up and down. "Yeah. You think dragon blood works like a cheap potion? You absorbed the blood into your body—but it hasn't fully merged with your own bloodline yet."

Zevran's wings perk up slightly. He quickly turns back to Alix.

"Master… is that true?"

Alix nods. "It is. Your body accepted the blood. Now you need a catalyst—something to push your bloodline to the next stage."

Zevran slowly rises, hope flickering back into his eyes. "Then… what should I do?"

Alix stands and dusts off his hands casually, as if the answer is obvious.

"What about," he says, "you join the attack tomorrow?"

Zevran blinks. "The attack… on the baron's territory?"

"Yes," Alix replies. "A real fight might be the push your body needs. Breaking limits often happens only in life-and-death moments. Though…" he glances at him, "I doubt you'll find the perfect opponent tomorrow."

Zevran straightens his small dragon body, determination settling in his gaze.

"You're right," he says, voice firmer now. "With my strength… unless it's one of the three Marshalls, no one in this kingdom can fight me."

Alix's lips curl into a faint, calculating smile.

"Then I should use you to conquer this kingdom faster."

Mero whistles softly. "Heh. Finally using the lizard properly."

Zevran puffs his chest. "Master only uses me when necessary. I will not fail him."

Alix moves toward his desk, arms crossed loosely as he thinks aloud.

"You, and the four city lords together are already enough to overwhelm most armies…" He pinches his chin. "I need to strike while the upper nobles still underestimate us."

Mero floats closer. "What about the big guy? Morgro?"

Alix shakes his head immediately.

"No. His existence stays hidden."

He glances at both of them.

"Even if this kingdom has no Tier 7s. Fear changes strategies. It forces the nobles to unite."

Zevran nods solemnly. "Understood. Sir Morgro remains… our hidden blade."

Alix steps forward and places a hand on his head, calm but resolute.

"Good. Then prepare yourself. Starting tomorrow… we move faster."

Zevran bows deeply. "By your command, Master."

Mero twirls in the air with a smirk. "Heh. Things are about to get fun."

Alix watches them both, his gaze steady and quietly sharp.

"Let the kingdom scramble," he murmurs.

"We'll be three steps ahead."

----

The next morning comes with a low, thunderous rumble, the sound of one hundred thousand monsters preparing to march.

The plains outside Nam City vibrate with movement. Rows upon rows of soldiers—gnolls, lizardfolk, orcs, ogres, arachne, serpents, goblins, and dozens of other monster races, stand in formation. Their banners ripple against the wind, colors and crests blending into a tide of power.

At the center of this sea of bodies is something new.

A raised platform, carved from reinforced beastbone and polished metal, carried on the shoulders of eight enormous Minotaur elites.

And on that platform, reluctantly sitting on a throne-like seat—

Alix.

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"…I still think this is excessive."

Ruk stands proudly at the front left corner of the platform, chest puffed out. "Your Majesty, this is tradition! A king must be seen!"

Varesh, inclines his head. "It inspires the troops. Symbolism matters."

Erel'na giggles behind her hand. "Besides, it suits you more than you admit. You look very… regal, My Lord."

Vordon said. "It is good. The army must see the one they follow."

Alix leans back into the seat, expression flat. He thought. 'I feel like some ancient emperor being carried around.'

Alix glances at the horizon where their full army stretches like a dark wave.

"…One hundred thousand already, huh?"

Ruk thumps his fist against his chest. "More will join when they hear Your Majesty moves! Monsters recognize strength!"

Zevran swoops down in his miniature dragon form and lands Alix's shoulder, tail flicking excitedly.

"Master, the vanguard is ready," he reports. "Say the word, and we'll begin marching."

Alix sighs, though there's a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Fine… let's get this over with."

Ruk raises a massive hand and roars at the top of his lungs.

"ALL FORCES—MOVE OUT!!"

A deafening roar explodes across the plains.

The Minotaurs lift the platform with practiced unity, the soldiers below surging forward like a tidal wave of claws, steel, and magic.

Erel'na walks elegantly beside the moving platform, her voice soft but steady.

---

General Jared sits astride his armored wyvern, its scales glinting under the afternoon sun as it circles above the baron's territory. Below him, the two ravaged cities of Baron Grell, once choking with panic, now show signs of order returning.

Smoke no longer rises from every street.

Merchants have reopened their stalls.

Children walk outside again.

Guards, his guards patrol the main roads.

It isn't perfect, not even close. But it's stable.

He exhales, lowering himself as the wyvern glides down toward the central plaza of the first city.

On the ground, a Lieutenant rushes up to greet him, saluting with relief written across his face.

"General Jared, sir! The riots in the southern district have been contained. We've stationed a thousand men there to maintain order."

Jared nods. "And the looters?"

"Captured. Most of them were just desperate civilians, not criminals. They've been put to work repairing the damages."

Jared grunts approvingly. "Good. Better to give them purpose than to throw them into cells."