Strax rested his hands on the table, his gaze fixed on the enormous map spread out before him.

It was thick paper, covered in meticulous notes, lines marking routes, small identifying runes, and—most strikingly—dozens of red dots scattered in circles around Kaelthur.

"What exactly is this?" he asked, his deep voice echoing through the silent hall.

Cristine crossed her arms and approached, her eyes shining with satisfaction at her work. "That, my dear, is the current number of cities and towns within a ten-thousand-kilometer radius of Kaelthur." She ran her finger over the map, pointing out each red dot. "And I can safely say that they all have small outposts linked to the Beast Monarch. Technically, this entire territory was his domain."

Strax arched an eyebrow. "It was," he corrected, with a slight smile.

Cristine nodded, not denying it. "Exactly." Then, with an almost casual air, he added: "And of course, we've already installed small cells of our information guild in practically all these cities and smaller conglomerates."

The silence that followed lasted a few seconds. Strax watched her silently, his gaze alternating between the map and the two women before him.

Yennifer stood with her arms crossed beside the table, her expression firm and confident. Cristine, on the other hand, exuded pride—and she had reason to be.

Strax let out a soft sigh and smiled. "I knew you would be quick to grasp the situation on the continent…" he said, leaning forward slightly, his gaze still fixed on the map. "But apparently, I underestimated just how much."

Cristine chuckled softly, satisfied.

Yennifer, however, maintained a serious expression. "Underestimating us is a mistake you should avoid, Strax." She slid a new document across the table, a report on magical seals and recent communications. "We're about to take the next step."

Strax looked up, intrigued. "The next step?"

Yennifer nodded, her golden eyes fixed on his. "Expand north," she said firmly. "To the territory of the Ice Monarch."

Strax's expression changed. For a moment, he just stared at her in silence.

It was the first time he had heard that name. Ice Monarch.

The title sounded ancient... cold and heavy, like an ancient memory.

"The Ice Monarch..." he repeated slowly. "I've never heard of her."

"It's not surprising," Cristine replied, leaning on the edge of the table. "She rules an isolated land. The North is a white wasteland, inhospitable and silent. Almost no one survives there without an alliance or protection. Few speak of her, and even fewer have seen her.

Strax kept his gaze fixed on them, his expression serious now. "Are you already aiming for the next one?" he asked. "We just defeated the Beast Monarch. If we go after another one now, we'll draw too much attention."

His voice was cautious, but not weak.

There was power in his words, a tone that made it clear he wanted to act, but not rashly.

Yennifer, however, shook her head. "That's not exactly what we're proposing."

Cristine added, "We don't want to dominate the North, Strax. We want to expand."

Strax leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Explain."

Cristine pointed to the map again. "The North is a cold and scarce region, but extremely rich in human and mineral resources. The inhabitants there are accustomed to endless winters, hard labor, and little food." She smiled slightly. "In other words, a resilient workforce."

Yennifer took over the explanation. "And loyal." Extreme cold makes people practical—they ally themselves with those who offer them warmth, food, and purpose. If we're clever, we can create a network of influence disguised as aid. Nothing that would attract the attention of the Ice Monarch… at least, not at first.

Strax listened intently, his eyes fixed on the map.

Yennifer's voice was always methodical, almost cold. She didn't speak of conquest with the passion of Kali or Scarlet—she spoke with logic. Pure strategy.

"So you intend to infiltrate there," he concluded. "Before even engaging in any conflict."

"Exactly," Cristine replied, satisfied. "Silent expansion."

She then pointed to a small blue circle to the north of the map, where mountains and glaciers dominated the terrain. "Here are the first cities we can reach through our contacts. We already have some informants within the trade caravans and ice hunters." Given time, we can move resources, create supply routes, and even open a guild branch disguised as a trading post.

Strax remained silent for a moment, studying the blue dot on the map.

Then a small smile curved his lips.

"You're thinking big," he murmured. "I like that."

Yennifer lifted her chin, a faint gleam of pride in her eyes. "That's what you taught us. We achieve nothing alone. We spread influence. We put down roots before claws."

Strax chuckled, satisfied. "So that's what they're plotting while I rebuild Kaelthur."

Cristine winked at him. "Someone needs to keep the empire growing while you play at breaking monarchs."

He arched an eyebrow in amusement. "Play?"

Cristine just shrugged. "Let's call it a bloody pastime."

Yennifer sighed, pushing the map closer to him. "The important thing is that, with the North under observation, we'll have complete control over the trade routes. The East and West are richer, yes, but also much more stable and closely monitored. In the North, no one will notice if the flags slowly change color."

Strax stared at the map for a few more seconds, his fingers drumming on the wood.

Finally, he spoke:

"Do it your way," he said. "But keep Kaelthur's name out of it. For now."

Cristine smiled. "Of course. We'll operate in the shadows."

"As always," Yennifer finished, her tone satisfied.

Strax stood, adjusting his dark cloak around his shoulders. His gaze was still fixed on the map, but his mind was already working beyond it.

"The Ice Monarch…" he murmured again. "If she's like the others, sooner or later she'll notice what we're doing."

He looked up, the golden glow returning.

"And when that happens…" a fierce smile curved his lips. "…I want to be the one to break the ice."

…

The ice throne gleamed in the pale light of the hall. No sound but the biting wind seeping through the cracks in the windows—a constant murmur, almost a song of eternal winter.

Crystals hung from the ceiling like transparent blades, each reflecting the figure seated on the throne with icy perfection.

She—the Ice Monarch—remained motionless.

Her skin seemed made of snow itself, cold and translucent. Her silver dress and armor shimmered with bluish reflections, and her long silver hair fell like a frozen waterfall over her shoulders.

Her eyes, an almost white blue, stared into space—there was no emotion, only boredom. The kind of apathy of someone who has seen centuries repeat themselves, wars come and go, empires rise and decay.

Before her, a man knelt, trembling.

His body was covered in a heavy cloak, now soaked with snow and fear. His hands dug into the ice, leaving marks of fresh blood.

He tried to speak, but the air seemed to refuse to leave his lungs—each word a challenge in the presence of this woman.

"Speak." Her voice cut through the silence like shattering glass. It wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of a sentence.

The subordinate took a deep, hesitant breath. "My Lady... the... the Beast Monarch... Rakan... has been defeated."

The Monarch's eyes moved slightly, for the first time. The crystal above the throne glinted, reflecting a flicker of interest that lasted less than a breath.

"Defeated?" she repeated, as if testing the word, savoring its improbability.

The subordinate lowered his head to the frozen ground.

"Yes, my Lady. He... was defeated in battle, in his own territory. Kaelthur... is now under new rule."

The air seemed to grow heavier.

The Monarch rested her chin on her hand, her fingers encased in rings of fine ice.

"And who dared to defeat Rakan?" she asked calmly, but there was something terrible behind that controlled tone. A subtle pressure, almost imperceptible, but enough to make the subordinate's knee tremble.

He swallowed hard.

"The name that has reached us... is Strax."

Silence.

For a moment, nothing moved.

Only the sound of the wind—and the subtle crackle of ice forming at the edges of the room.

The Monarch's lips curved in a near-smile. A delicate movement, beautiful… and dangerous.

She leaned forward slightly, her eyes glinting.

"Strax…" she repeated, and the name seemed to freeze in the air. "A name that sounds… too human for something capable of subduing a beast like Rakan."

The subordinate hesitated. "There are rumors, my Lady. They say he isn't… quite human."

She raised an eyebrow, interested. "Explain."

"Some claim he carries the power of a… demon. That the sky itself darkens when he fights." The man's voice trembled. "That Rakan… not only lost, but now serves him… with a leash."

The sound of cracking ice echoed.

It wasn't loud—just a dull crack—but the man knew what it meant.

The ground around him began to freeze even more, the cold crawling like a living serpent.

"Rakan... with a leash," she repeated slowly, her eyes downcast.

Then she stood up.

The entire hall seemed to shudder.

Each step she took echoed like the crack of a frozen lake about to break.

The aura around her rippled in blue mists, and the throne behind her began to shroud in a fine mist.

"Interesting," she murmured, walking to the center of the hall. "So many centuries... and a demon decides to play king in the Monarchs' territory."

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