The two landed near the entrance, where Mirage gently let Fay down.

Without a word, she marched forward and kicked the palace doors open—the force of her strike tearing the hinges free and sending the massive gates crashing inward.

Each step she took cracked the polished marble beneath her feet. The sound echoed like a warning bell through the chamber. Cries of fear rang out almost instantly.

Guards and nobles recoiled, some dropping their weapons, others falling to their knees. None dared raise their blades—not after what had happened to the army outside.

When they reached the steps leading to the throne room, they found a man huddled behind the golden throne—trembling, clutching the velvet-lined fabric like a child might cling to his blankets during a storm.

"You there," Mirage called out, her voice echoing across the hall. "I will either kill you… or you can give me the crown."

Fay blinked.

Wait—was that what this was about?

He thought they'd just come for the gold and aether cores… and leave. Apparently, Mirage had a broader plan in mind.

The man didn't respond—at least, not directly. His voice came out small and shaking from behind the throne.

"Take it… just take it and let me live. I won't oppose you, great one…"

He sounded like he wanted to vanish. And clearly, none of the guards or servants had any interest in defending him. They weren't rallying. They were… backing away as Mirage was busy dealing with their king who throw his crown away with ease.

"Good," Mirage said, stepping forward with a flap of her wings. "It's good to have someone who knows their place. Now run—before I melt that gold throne and you along with it."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Take your vassals and flee. This mountain now belongs to me—along with all its wealth. The faster you leave, the less I'll be inclined to hunt you down."

For a moment, the king remained frozen.

But as more of his people bolted through the exits, the palace rapidly emptying around him, the man finally scrambled up and ran—tripping over his own robes as he fled the throne room.

Those who could summon a mount or beast did so, others simply ran on foot, desperate to escape the wrath of the young dragon girl and her strange companion.

They didn't look back.

The only solace the king had as he fled was a single thought: Dragons rarely claimed entire kingdoms.

They didn't like territory so large. Maybe—just maybe—he could let her have the capital and still rule the rest of Elmareth.

He told himself that as he ran… hoping it might be true.

Fay remained by the throne, stunned.

No violence this time. No burning, no blood. The king had been reduced of his influence with mere words.

Fay glanced over, unable to hide his curiosity.

Mirage, seated cross-legged on the gilded throne like a lounging child, was running her finger along the golden armrest the other hand twirling the gold crown as if it was a toy—eyes wide, entranced by its shine.

"He'll forget his fear eventually," she said softly as if feeling his gaze. "And when he does, he'll send more soldiers. More food and a greater challenge."

She looked toward him, smiling with dragon-like teeth.

"I will welcome it."

Then she sat back deeper into the throne, her silver-scaled legs dangling from one armrest, wings folded behind her lazily.

"Now—have the demi-humans check the castle and its grounds. I want my stones. And, of course… the gold."

Fay sighed but nodded.

Before he could even step outside, the first wave of demi-humans returned—arms full of valuables: coins, jewelry, aether cores, enchanted weapons, even decorative armor.

They didn't need to be told what to do.

Bit by bit, the throne room began to fill with a growing hoard—a glimmering mountain of wealth, stacked right in front of Mirage like an offering to a child goddess.

Then, the wind shifted.

A large raven swept down through the open gates, its dark feathers catching glimmers of light as it landed.

Two figures leapt from its back—Horin and Selra.

Fay barely had time to turn when something slammed into him.

Horin.

She ran at him with a speed he hadn't even seen during their training—and didn't stop.

She crashed into his chest, arms wrapping around him, knocking him back onto the smooth marble floor.

Tears streamed down her face as she pressed her forehead into the breastplate of his armor.

"Thank you…" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Thank you for saving my father… They told me he's going to be okay. You helped him instead of coming for us first. I know that must've been harder, but… you still did it."

Fay blinked, unsure how to respond.

She clung to him, ears lowered, her tail flicking with emotion—more kitten than warrior in this moment.

Her face was hidden beneath his armor, and all he could do was reach up and gently pat her head.

Just like he was used to doing with Mira.

Suddenly, Fay noticed a pair of silver-pale legs step beside him. He looked up to see Mirage standing there, her shimmering eyes locked on Horin.

A playful smile curved her lips.

"So young and bold," Mirage mused, "to already have a partner."

Horin's ears twitched violently.

She jumped off Fay as if he'd caught fire beneath her.

"N–Nothing like that!" she snapped, tail fluffed. "I was just thanking him for helping my father! Who even are you?"

She'd seen glimpses of the girl earlier—spied their interaction from a distance—but now, seeing Mirage up close, she demanded answers.

"I am a new summoned Eldritch, young one," Mirage said, her tone casual but laced with power. "And I feel you're not offering me the respect I deserve. I am now queen of this palace. And that boy there," she gestured toward Fay, "is the king. We stand as equals… as our pact demands."

Horin's ears twitched again. Her jaw tensed.

She clenched her teeth but said nothing.

Fay, feeling the pressure thickening behind him, quickly turned toward Selra, who stood a little apart, surveying the damage.

She looked up at the cracked marble floor, the throne now occupied by a girl who had once been a dragon, and the piles of treasure growing taller by the minute.

"I guess we won't have those guys as neighbors anymore," Selra said dryly.

Fay nodded. "Yeah… as you can see, we've got a new home now. At least for the Ravari. If you or the Eluwyn want to come too…"

He trailed off, offering the thought softly.

Selra shook her head gently. "We can't. Not all of us, anyway. We'll be focusing on expanding the forest to reach this region again. Maybe we'll see it thrive once more—before the hums come to cut it down again, to make it easier to find us."

Fay looked out past the shattered gates, toward the land below.

What had once been a sea of trees was now a barren, scorched wasteland. He tried to imagine how it looked before—lush, wild, and full of a green ocean of leafs.

"…Has Erian returned to send word to the tribes?" he asked, scanning for the male Mistwalker.

Selra nodded. "He left just moments ago. He'll return in two days with instructions for those who were rescued. Honestly?" She gave him a side glance. "You did better than we hoped. This turned out to be the best possible outcome."

She patted his shoulder—firmer than expected, but not unkind—then turned her attention to the girls still exchanging charged words behind him.

Meanwhile, Fay watched the demi-humans in the hall. They moved with tireless energy, dragging every scrap of value they could find into the growing pile.

As if their lives depended on it.

As if a dragon queen's favor could determine whether they survived.

And standing at the center of it all… Fay wasn't sure if he was a liberator, a new leader, or just the boy who had somehow claimed a kingdom.

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