Chapter 882: This is the second time I’ve been disrespected.

The doors opened slowly and deliberately, not with theatrical pomp, but with a calculated weight that made it clear that this space was not entered without intention. The hall beyond them was spacious, but not excessively decorated, which subtly made everything even more uncomfortable. The floor was made of a smooth, dark material that partially reflected the lights above, creating a mirrored effect that slightly distorted silhouettes. The ceiling was high, supported by slender columns that seemed more sculpted than constructed, and between them, long tables were arranged with almost mathematical precision, occupied by figures who, upon noticing the entrance, gradually interrupted their conversations.

There was no formal announcement.

There was no grand presentation.

But there was attention.

Strax perceived this immediately, not only from the direct glances, but from the change in the atmosphere. Conversations ceasing, movements slowing, focus being redirected without anyone needing to say anything. This was a silent test, and he knew exactly the kind of game they were playing there.

Mythra took a few steps forward before stopping, maintaining a firm but unpretentious posture. "Guests of the Emperor," she said, enough to establish context, but not enough to answer all the questions clearly arising in the minds of those present. She didn’t elaborate, didn’t justify, she simply stated, like someone who didn’t have the habit of explaining herself beyond what was necessary.

Strax didn’t speak immediately. He entered the hall with his usual calm, hands still in his pockets, as if this were just another stop on the road, and not a meeting with figures who probably ruled entire parts of the continent. Scarlett walked beside him with a slight, corner-of-the-mouth smile, not exactly provocative, but also far from discreet. Tiamat kept her arms crossed, assessing each person present as if cataloging threats, while Ouroboros followed slightly behind, his eyes scanning the room with a more introspective attention.

They weren’t directed to an isolated table.

Nor to the center.

But to an intermediate point. That, in itself, already said a lot.

"They don’t know where to put us," murmured Tiamat, not hiding her comment.

"Normal," Strax replied in a low voice. "I wouldn’t know either."

Mythra pulled out a chair naturally and made a simple gesture indicating the available seats. There was no exaggerated ceremony, which made it clear that this was not a traditional formal dinner, but it wasn’t informal either. It was... functional. A meeting where appearance and control mattered more than any rigid protocol.

As soon as they sat down, the movement in the hall began to slowly return, but differently than before. Now there was a constant attention directed at them, even if disguised. People started talking again, but with more frequent pauses, more recurring sideways glances, small changes in posture that indicated restrained interest.

"So," said a male voice from somewhere to the left, not exactly loud, but clear enough to be heard, "this is the guest who’s causing a stir on the continent."

Strax didn’t turn around immediately. He picked up a glass in front of him, observed the liquid inside for a second, and only then answered, without raising his voice. "It depends on who’s telling the story."

Some people smiled discreetly.

Others did not.

"Stories usually come with exaggerations," the voice continued. "But defeating two monarchs doesn’t seem like something easily invented."

Scarlett rested her chin on her hand, clearly amused. "You talk about it as if it were a rare event."

"Because it is," replied another person, this time a woman, sitting further ahead. "Monarchs don’t fall easily."

Tiamat gave a slight, cold smile. "Perhaps the standard is low."

The comment created a small break in the atmosphere, not exactly negative, but enough to reinforce that this group wasn’t there to fit in.

Mythra remained silent for a few seconds, observing the reactions before intervening simply. "They didn’t come to compete," she said. "They came as guests."

"And yet they’ve already changed the scenery," replied the first male voice.

Strax finally turned his face toward the direction of the conversation. The man speaking didn’t seem particularly impressive at first glance, but there was a presence there that indicated experience. It wasn’t brute force, it was something older, more established.

"I wasn’t the one who started counting this as a problem," said Strax. "I’m just existing."

"You call that just existing?" asked the man, with a slight smile. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

"To me, yes."

There was a brief pause, and this time some laughter arose, more open than before. It wasn’t acceptance, but it wasn’t outright hostility either. It was curiosity being fed.

Meanwhile, Ouroboros remained quiet, but observing everything attentively. She noticed the microexpressions, the moments when someone hesitated before speaking, the exchanges of glances between figures who clearly had some level of influence there. This wasn’t just a dinner; it was a field of mutual analysis.

"You don’t seem worried," commented the same woman who had spoken before, now looking directly at Strax.

"Should I be?" he replied.

"Perhaps," she said. "This place doesn’t usually receive... variables."

Strax gave a slight, wry smile. "Then perhaps it’s time to begin."

Scarlett let out a low chuckle, clearly amused by it. Tiamat merely shook her head, as if she had expected that kind of response.

Mythra finally crossed her arms, leaning slightly back in her chair. "Enough," she said, without raising her voice, but enough to end that particular exchange. "They didn’t come here for entertainment."

"I disagree," Scarlett murmured.

Mythra ignored him.

"You’ll have time to observe, question, and draw conclusions," she continued. "But not today."

Strax rested his elbow on the table, looking around more calmly now. "So today is just to see who tries to stake their claim without saying it directly."

"Basically," Mythra replied.

"Great," he said. "I’m terrible at subtle games."

"We noticed," Tiamat said, without looking at him.

The atmosphere, though tense, was beginning to stabilize into something more... functional. The initial abrupt interruption was gone, but complete normality wasn’t there either. It was an unstable equilibrium, where everyone was aware of each other’s presence.

The unstable equilibrium that had formed in the hall began to settle into something more predictable, though far from comfortable. Conversations resumed their controlled flow, with small exchanges happening here and there, always with an implicit care in the words chosen. Still, the presence of Strax and his companions remained a fixed point of attention, a gravitational center that drew glances, analyses, and silent judgments from everyone around. It wasn’t open hostility, but it was also far from any form of genuine acceptance.

The first courses began to be served, brought by staff who moved with almost mechanical precision, showing no curiosity or hesitation. The smell of the food was pleasant, but none of them seemed particularly interested in it at that moment. The real focus remained the dynamics between the people present, and what was being said—or not said—between each exchange of words.

It was in this context that the tone changed.

Not abruptly, but enough to be noticed.

"So these are his wives?" said a male voice further ahead, not loud enough to be considered an announcement, but clearly directed. There was a slight hint of disdain there, something that didn’t go unnoticed, even with the atmosphere still partially controlled. The man speaking didn’t seem young, but he also didn’t carry the weight of someone experienced enough to gauge all the consequences of what he said.

Strax didn’t react immediately.

Scarlett was the first to look up, her sly smile remaining in place, but now with a slight alteration, something sharper. Tiamat didn’t move, but her eyes fixed on the voice with a cold intensity, while Ouroboros remained quiet, although her attention had shifted completely to that point.

"Curious," the man continued, leaning slightly back in his chair, clearly comfortable with his position. "I expected something... more impressive."

Some people around looked away.

Others pretended not to hear.

But no one interrupted.

Strax then slowly turned his face towards the man, his eyes analyzing without haste, without any abrupt change of expression. He didn’t show immediate irritation, which made the situation even more uncertain for those observing.

"Do you usually assess things you don’t understand?" Strax asked, in a completely neutral tone.

The man gave a small smile, as if it were a slight provocation. "I usually assess what’s in front of me," he replied. "And, honestly, it doesn’t seem like anything more than..." he made a small gesture with his hand, as if searching for the right word, "...decorative company."

The silence that followed was heavier than any previous interruption.

Scarlett tilted her head slightly, still smiling, but now there was something clearly dangerous in that gesture. Tiamat slowly uncrossed her arms, without taking her eyes off the man, while Ouroboros remained motionless, but with a more closed expression than before.

Strax didn’t answer immediately.

He only glanced slightly at Mythra.

She was watching.

Directly.

Without surprise.

Without haste.

And, most importantly—

Without interfering.

That was enough.

Strax looked back at the man, and this time there wasn’t even a trace of lightness in his expression. It wasn’t explosive anger, it wasn’t visible irritation, but something much simpler and more direct: decision.

He raised his hand.

There was no dramatic gesture.

There was no visible preparation.

The magic simply responded.

A sphere of white fire appeared in the space between them, compact, dense, completely stable for a fraction of a second. The air around them distorted immediately, not from ordinary heat, but from something deeper, as if the very existence of that fire was incompatible with the surrounding environment.

And then—

He moved his fingers.

The sphere disappeared.

And reappeared.

Directly in front of the man’s face.

There was no time to react. There was no defense.

There was no sound.

His head simply ceased to exist.

It wasn’t a violent explosion, nor a widespread impact. It was... evaporation. Clean, instantaneous, absolute. The body remained seated for a second, completely motionless, before falling to the side without any resistance.

The entire room froze.

This time—

Without exception.

No conversation continued.

No movement was sustained.

Even the circulating employees stopped where they were, as if time had been completely interrupted. The smell of food was still in the air, now mixed with a slight remnant of heat that dissipated rapidly.

Strax lowered his hand.

As if nothing had happened.

He leaned back in his chair, resting his elbow on the table with the same calm as before, picking up the glass in front of him again and observing the liquid for a moment before taking a small sip.

"I really don’t have the patience for this sort of thing," he said, without looking at anyone in particular.

Silence remained.

Heavy.

Dense.

Real.

Scarlett was the first to move, letting out a low giggle that partially broke the tension, but didn’t eliminate it completely. "I thought you’d take longer," she commented, resting her face in her hand again, clearly more amused than worried.

Tiamat let out a small sigh through her nose, crossing her arms again. "He was even too polite," she said, as if assessing the situation technically.

Ouroboros said nothing.

But her eyes were fixed on the now headless body, not with shock, but with a kind of silent reflection.

Mythra then moved.

Not quickly.

Not in impulsive response.

But with the same precision she had demonstrated from the beginning.

She looked at the body for a second, then at the empty space where the head had been, and then turned her attention back to Strax. Her expression wasn’t one of anger, nor of exaggerated surprise, but there was a clear change there.

Now—

It was real assessment.

"Straightforward," she said.

Strax shrugged slightly. "Efficient."

"You killed a member of the court," Mythra continued, without altering her tone.

"You let him insult a guest of the Emperor; if you valued his life, you would have punished him," Strax replied. "It’s the second time since I arrived that I’ve been insulted. I’m counting."