Jorghan furrowed his brows, confused as to why he was starting another one with him and wondering who he was again.

He replied, his tone dismissive.

"Power is the only truth that matters. Everything else is decoration."

"Is it?"

Aetheus stepped forward slightly, his posture relaxed but his presence intensifying.

"Then tell me, with all your strength, can you change the nature of tradition? Can you rewrite centuries of clan law through force alone? Can you make others follow you without understanding why they should?"

"If the power is overwhelming enough, yes," Jorghan replied without hesitation.

"People follow strength. They respect what can destroy them. Everything else is weakness dressed as wisdom."

A murmur rippled through the gathered elves.

This wasn't casual conversation anymore. It took a swift turn into an argument of power balance between the two of them.

Jorghan looked like a teen standing in front of an older elf. Aetheus, standing at eight feet, imposing and the aura he radiated quickly covered the corner.

Jorghan hadn't exerted his aura yet. He was calm like a still lake; his gaze and his expression were blank, with no emotion towards the elf.

Aetheus tilted his head slightly, his expression thoughtful.

"You mistake fear for respect, compliance for loyalty. True power doesn't need to announce itself through destruction. It exists in the ability to shape reality itself, to influence without force, to lead because others choose to follow."

"Choice is an illusion," Jorghan countered, his voice cutting.

"People make choices based on what they believe will keep them safe, prosperous, or alive. Control those factors, control the choices. Absolute power eliminates the need for complex manipulation.

It simplifies everything."

"Power is absolute."

"And what do you build with that simplification?" Aetheus asked, his tone growing more intense. "A kingdom of ashes? A legacy of terror? Power without purpose is just violence waiting to happen. It's a tool without a craftsman, a weapon without a warrior's discipline."

Jorghan took a step forward. Sigora looked around as the elves were growing, and their eagerness in the topic increased.

"You speak of discipline while hiding behind philosophy. The strong don't need justification for their actions. They act, and the world adjusts. Every moment spent debating purpose is time wasted while others grow stronger."

"Then you've already lost," Aetheus said quietly, but his words carried like thunder.

"Because you've reduced existence to a single dimension. Strength against strength, power against power. You see a ladder with only one way to climb. But reality is infinite in its complexity. The strongest blade can be turned against its wielder. The greatest army can starve without supply lines. Overwhelming power has brought down more empires than weakness ever has."

The hall had fallen silent.

Elves watched with rapt attention, though none of the major clan representatives were present to witness this exchange. Most of them were elders and their subordinates.

Jorghan's eyes held a dangerous glint. Jorghan was irked by the way the Aetheus was looking at him, and so he jumped into the argument with him.

"Your words are beautiful, whatever your name is. Poetic even. But when faced with true overwhelming force, poetry doesn't save you. Wisdom doesn't shield you. Philosophy doesn't stop the blade.

In that moment, only power matters."

"And the one with the absolute power can crush the whole armies you talked about."

"And after that moment?"

Aetheus challenged.

"After you've crushed your enemy, what then?

Do you crush the next?

And the next?

Until there's nothing left but you, standing alone in the ruins of everything you could have been? Power for its own sake is a disease. It consumes everything around it, then turns inward."

"Better to be consumed by power than destroyed by weakness."

"False dichotomy," Aetheus countered immediately.

"You present only two options when thousands exist. This is the flaw in your thinking, Jorghan. You've convinced yourself that existence is binary.

Strong or weak.

Victor or victim.

But leadership, true leadership, requires understanding that people are complex. Situations are layered. The path forward isn't always through the obstacle, sometimes it's around it, above it, or beneath it."

Jorghan's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"And while you're finding your path around obstacles, I've already destroyed them and moved forward.

Who reaches the goal first?"

"Depends on what the goal is," Aetheus replied.

"If it's simply arrival, then perhaps you. But if it's building something that lasts, creating something that matters, then the one who takes time to understand the terrain will always surpass the one who simply bulldozes through it."

The debate had grown electric. It certainly turned into a heated conversation.

More elves had gathered, drawn by the intensity of the exchange.

Jorghan's voice dropped lower, more dangerous.

"You think you understand something I don't. But I've seen what happens when people waste time on details, on feelings, on considerations that don't matter.

They hesitate.

They falter.

And in that moment of hesitation, they die. I've watched it happen.

Power doesn't hesitate. It doesn't question. It acts, and the weak are swept aside."

His voice was loud and firm enough; even though he looked smaller, his low-pitched tone and the aura, which had increased with each passing second, made up for it.

"Then you've learned the wrong lesson from death," Aetheus said, his voice carrying profound sadness mixed with steel.

"Death teaches us the value of life, the importance of purpose, and the weight of our choices. If all you've learned is to become death yourself, then you've become the very thing that took whatever you lost."

The words struck something deeper.

Jorghan's jaw tightened.

"You know nothing about what I've lost."

"I know enough," Aetheus replied softly.

"I know that pain drives you. That anger fuels you. But neither pain nor anger is a sustainable foundation for true power. They burn bright and fast, and when they're exhausted, what remains?"

Before Jorghan could respond, Sigora moved closer behind him, her presence a subtle pressure.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.