Then an apeling spoke up, his voice edged with boldness. "And yet, the agreement never stated that we were not allowed to enter the cursed lands."

The words hung like a thrown spear.

For a heartbeat, neither side moved. The generals' eyes gleamed with subtle shifts of interest. The snake-haired woman tilted her head, serpents stirring as though savoring the silence.

Zirikon stirred, parting his lips to break the stalemate. But before his voice could sound, Krogan raised his hand slowly, deliberately. The hall stilled again, his gesture commanding the silence.

Krogan's hand lowered slowly, his gaze sweeping over the godlings. His tone shifted, less edged but no less commanding.

"Let me start first by taking a step back and reflect on my actions. I was in the wrong for appearing unannounced in territories under the watch of your kind. I could have done better, made my intentions known. On that, I will not argue."

The godlings exchanged glances, their surprise evident at the sudden concession. For a moment, the hall seemed lighter, as if some of the suffocating weight had lifted.

A golden shimmer rippled across the chamber floor, and from the Menagerie's living essence itself, a table of bone and crystal rose. Seats formed around it, each sculpted to fit the stature of the visitors. Wordlessly, the godlings moved forward and sat, the gesture both a courtesy and a test of trust.

One of the mermen leaned forward, her scales catching the faint glow of the chamber's crystalline light. She bowed her head slightly, voice steady but respectful.

"That, Lord Krogan, is one of the main reasons we are here before you today. To better understand your intentions… and to establish stronger contact and clearer communication with each of the godling races."

Krogan studied her in silence, his expression unreadable. Then, with a weary exhale, he leaned back into his throne. His eyes, however, were shapr with a predator's clarity.

"You wish to know my intentions," he said, his voice low, deliberate, "with the beast kings I claimed from under your territories, and what I plan to do with them."

His words were not a question, but a statement.

The godlings sat straighter, the gravity of the moment settling on them. Their voices, though spoken as one, carried the weight of many races, many thrones.

"Indeed," they answered.

"Do you know of my true identity?" Krogan asked at last, his golden eyes glinting with a quiet sharpness.

The godlings exchanged glances, their silence betraying hesitation before one finally spoke.

"We have been informed of it."

Krogan inclined his head, a small nod of acknowledgment.

"Good. Then it will be easier to explain why I first hid my intentions when I moved unannounced across your territories. People like me…" His lips curled faintly, though the smile did not reach his eyes. "…have not made the best impression on the world. Least of all with your kind, the godlings."

The weight of his words hung in the air, forcing the godlings to hold their composure. Krogan leaned forward, his voice lowering, carrying the growl of something ancient beneath it.

"Knowing this, I had doubts. Apprehension. I wondered if you, or perhaps the demigods of your line at the time, would step in to hinder me before I could even begin my true work."

One of the Harpies straightened, feathers rustling, her ton steady. "And what is this goal of yours, Lord Krogan?"

The beast king's gaze lingered on her, unreadable. Then, with startling simplicity, he spoke:

"My goal is to ensure that I, my very existence will be accepted in this new world. To tie my fate to its fate, as I have chosen to accept it as my home."

His voice softened at the end, carrying a strange, almost mournful resonance. And though the words seemed addressed to the godlings, they quickly realized something peculiar: his eyes were not on them. His tone was not meant for them.

It was as if he were speaking to someone else entirely, someone unseen, someone beyond the hall.

The generals did not move, but a faint tension stirred among them. The snake-haired woman tilted her head ever so slightly, her smile inscrutable, as though she alone understood the hidden direction of her king's words.

The godlings felt a shiver of unease, each of them wondering the same unspoken question:

"Who, exactly, was Krogan speaking to?"

Indeed, his words were not for the godlings at all. They were for the Origin Gods. Their vast attention, once elsewhere, now settled on this hidden dimension. For so long, their gaze had been absent, their will scattered across the heavens. But now that the veil had been lifted with the prresence of the godlings, Krogan's realm could no longer remain in shadow.

One of the werewolves broke the silence, his tone edged with suspicion "How is the gathering of fifth-tier beasts supposed to help you achieve this goal of yours?"

Krogan chuckled, deep and resonant, a sound that filled the hall.

"Simple. By making an impression. A long-lasting impression. The world knows nothing of me now, but soon they will know. They will see me, and understand what I represent."

Another werewolf leaned forward, eyes narrowing "And how do you plan on doing that?"

Rather than answering directly, Krogan's gaze swept across them, sharp and searching. He posed his own question instead, his voice echoing through the golden chamber like a riddle.

"Tell me, what are the beast kings to you godlings? And in a grander scale… what are the beast kings to the world itself?"

The godlings exchanged glances, the question hanging in the air. The Harpy godling stepped forward, her wings rustling with impatience. "They are nothing to us, but the wild and untamed," she stated, her voice sharp with a mix of disdain and hint of respect. "A necessary force of nature to be managed, a threat to be contained so that civilization may flourish. They are the base, the primal, the foundation upon which true power is built, they pose as a great threat to be overcomed and they hold within them certain treasures that is of great use"

The other godlings nodded in agreement, their expressions mirroring her condescension and respect.

But a frown made it's way to the face of the generals around. Krogan's deep, resonant chuckle filled the palace. It wasn't a malicious sound, but one of pure, unadulterated amusement.

"And there lies your great misconception," Krogan said, his tone rippling with authority as he sat forward on his throne. "Yes, the beast kings can be a threat. Yes, they are wild, untamed, and primal. But your vision stops there, because that is where your interest ends. You have never looked deeper. You have never asked what they mean beyond the danger they present."

He rose slightly, his shadow stretching across the floor, his presence pressing like a weight on their shoulders.

"You answered me as children of order, civilization, and pride would answer. You think beast kings are obstacles. Resources. Symbols of the chaos you were born to master. But now, having walked my Menagerie, tell me, can you truly still see them as only that?"

The godlings nodded, one of the werewolves spoke up. His voice was steady, but there was a note of humility in it that hadn't been there before. "Indeed. Your actions have pushed us to look deeper at our view of the beast kings and our understanding of them. We have found that perhaps we were wrong… or rather, that we have not been listening."

A few of the others shifted uncomfortably at his words, but none interrupted.

"We have a profession called 'Druids,'" the werewolf continued, his ears twitching slightly as though even speaking the word carried weight. "Godlings who practice this path have made great friends with beast kings, and they have spoken of them in glowing terms. Yet we dismissed their words, brushed them aside as ramblings born from eccentric natures. We thought them outliers, dreamers too close to the wild."

His gaze lowered for a moment, then lifted to meet Krogan's.

"But we have noticed something undeniable in this place. Most beast kings are beings of great intelligence and complex thought. They are not mindless, not savage in the way we once believed. They are smart enough to recognize their own limitations, and perhaps wiser than us for choosing to remain within their territories. And yet we, in our arrogance, intrude upon their lands as if they were nothing more than beasts to be contained."

A murmur ran through the hall, low and uncertain. Even among the godlings, the admission carried a sting.

Krogan nodded slowly, his expression unreadable, though his eyes glimmered faintly with satisfaction "Indeed," he said, his voice rolling like distant thunder. "Beast kings are different from ordinary magical beasts. The sign of a true beast king is when they reach the fifth stage and comprehend a domain. That is the first sign of their awakening intelligence. But after a beast king takes that step… a profound change takes place. Their former simple nature falls away. They are no longer creatures that act only on instinct and scattered thoughts."

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