Demonic Dragon: Harem System

The flight to the Heavenly Capital was fast.

Too fast for any messenger to keep up with, but still too slow for Strax.

He flew ahead, immense against the gray sky, cutting through clouds as if they were useless curtains in his way. Samira, Cassandra, and Daniela followed right behind, keeping an open formation so they would not collide with the turbulence left by his wings. Frieren and Ouroboros rode on Cassandra’s back, protected by barriers against wind and pressure. Neither of them spoke. Frieren held the scrolls and the vials of pale glass against her chest, while Ouroboros kept her eyes closed, following an invisible thread that stretched south.

Below them, the world changed.

The deep white of the North was left behind. Then came hills, dark rivers, denser forests, and imperial roads that began to arrange themselves into more careful lines as they approached the Capital. Watchtowers appeared at strategic points, some with imperial flags fluttering in the wind. Small villages watched the shadows of the dragons pass across the sky, and even from far away, it was possible to see people stopping in the middle of the streets to point.

Strax did not care.

He had not come hidden.

He had not come to request an audience.

And he had not come to pretend his presence was a diplomatic detail.

"He is very quiet," Daniela said, flying beside Samira.

Samira looked at Strax’s silhouette ahead.

"That is bad."

"When he says threats, I understand the size of the problem. When he stays silent, it feels like he is deciding where the fire starts."

Cassandra answered without taking her eyes off the front:

"He is controlling himself."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?"

"No."

"Good. Because it did not."

Ouroboros opened her eyes on Cassandra’s back.

"The thread is stronger."

Frieren turned to her.

"Stronger how?"

"As if it knows we are coming."

Samira growled low.

"Vaelis?"

"Maybe. Or whoever is using that name."

Strax heard.

Even from ahead, he heard.

"Is he in the Capital?"

Ouroboros touched her own chest, as if feeling something caught behind her ribs.

"The thread enters the Capital, but splits before the palace. Part goes to the imperial archives. Part descends."

"Descends?" Daniela asked.

"Beneath the Capital."

Frieren became immediately interested.

"Underground archives?"

"Or something older than the archives."

Samira let out a dry laugh.

"Of course. Because an imperial palace without a cursed basement would be too simple."

The Heavenly Capital appeared shortly after.

Even to Strax, the city was impressive.

It rose over layers of white stone, high walls, and golden towers that reflected the pale daylight. Suspended bridges connected elevated districts, mana channels crossed broad avenues, and the imperial palace stood at the center, on an immense platform, with domes, columns, and hanging gardens covered in fine snow. It was a city made to seem eternal, wealthy, and unreachable.

Today, it seemed small.

Because four dragons were approaching in war formation.

The bells rang before they reached the walls.

Not civilian bells.

Alert bells.

Golden barriers lit over the Capital, forming translucent layers in the sky. Magical towers turned, aiming defensive crystals toward the group. Imperial guards ran along the walls. Mages raised containment circles. For a few seconds, the entire city seemed to prepare for a war no one had declared, but everyone feared.

Strax did not slow down.

The first golden barrier trembled with his approach.

Then an amplified voice echoed from the palace.

"Strax of Asgard! By order of the Heavenly Emperor, slow your approach and declare your intention!"

Strax opened his wings.

The wind pushed the clouds away.

He stopped in the air before the barrier, so close that the imperial mages instinctively stepped back behind the defense crystals. Samira, Cassandra, and Daniela positioned themselves behind him, each at a different angle. The message was clear: if the Capital decided to attack, this would not be merely a tense visit. It would be the beginning of a tragedy.

Strax spoke.

His voice crossed the barrier without effort.

"My intention is simple. Someone from the Capital opened a path for an entity to touch my daughter."

The silence that followed reached even the streets below.

Then the imperial voice returned, less firm.

"This accusation will be treated seriously. The Emperor requests that you enter human form and be received in the upper courtyard."

Strax did not answer immediately.

Daniela murmured:

"Reasonable request."

Samira looked at her.

"You distrust it because it is reasonable?"

"Yes."

Frieren, on Cassandra’s back, added:

"They want to reduce pressure on the barriers."

Strax finally spoke:

"I will descend. If you try to block my exit, I go through."

The barrier opened.

Not completely.

Only a corridor narrow enough to allow controlled passage. Strax entered first and landed in the palace’s upper courtyard in draconic form. The impact cracked several ornamental stones, but he did not seem to notice. Only then did he return to human form, white hair falling over his face and cold eyes fixed on the main entrance.

Samira, Cassandra, and Daniela also landed and assumed human form. Frieren descended with the instruments. Ouroboros came last, silent, looking at the shadows between the columns.

The courtyard was full of soldiers.

Entire ranks of them.

Raised spears, golden armor, runic shields, mages at the sides, and officers trying to look less frightened than they were. At the top of the stairs, Derick waited with a serious expression. Behind him, several imperial advisers whispered nervously.

Derick descended a few steps.

"Strax."

"Derick."

"I would like to say your arrival is unexpected, but that would be a lie."

"Good. Then you already know why I am here."

Derick looked at the others.

"We know about the attack in the North?"

Strax narrowed his eyes.

"You know?"

The question made the courtyard’s temperature drop.

Derick realized the mistake.

"We received a warning from Monica. A few minutes ago. The Emperor has called an emergency session."

"Then take me to him."

"First, I need to ask your companions to surrender weapons and dangerous instruments."

Samira laughed.

Daniela looked at the sky.

Cassandra merely stared at Derick as if he had said something profoundly naive.

Frieren raised a box.

"My instruments are dangerous only if used correctly."

Derick closed his eyes for an instant.

"That does not help."

Strax took a step forward.

"No."

"Strax, it is protocol."

"Someone inside this city helped an ancient thing touch a sleeping child. Your protocol can wait."

Derick held his gaze for a few seconds.

Then turned to the soldiers.

"Open the way."

An imperial adviser widened his eyes.

"Lord Derick, this violates—"

Derick interrupted without looking at him.

"Open the way or explain to the Emperor why you decided to discuss etiquette while Strax is at the door."

The adviser closed his mouth.

They entered the palace.

The interior was as imposing as the exterior. White corridors, carved columns, shining floors, statues of ancient sovereigns, golden tapestries, and tall windows showing parts of the city below. But as they advanced, Strax did not look at any wealth. He looked at shadows. At doors. At symbols on the walls. At any detail that seemed a little too dry, too dark, too forgotten.

Ouroboros walked a few steps behind him.

"There is sand here."

Derick stopped.

"What?"

Frieren had already crouched near the base of a column. With the tip of a pair of tweezers, she removed a nearly invisible dark grain from a crack in the marble.

"She is right."

Derick’s face lost color.

"This is inside the palace."

"Yes," Frieren said. "And it is not old."

Samira rested a hand on the hilt of the greatsword.

"Then the problem is not only in the archives."

Derick took a deep breath.

"Keep walking."

The throne hall was more crowded than the last time.

The Heavenly Emperor stood before the throne, not seated. That, by itself, already said a great deal. Around him were advisers, generals, ministers, and imperial mages. All of them tried to maintain dignity, but Strax’s presence entering without being formally announced destroyed any illusion of normality.

The Emperor looked at him.

"Strax."

"Emperor."

"I received Monica’s message. I also received reports about the attack in the North. Before you say anything, know that I did not authorize any of this."

Strax walked to the center of the hall.

"I did not ask."

The sentence cut through the hall like a blade.

The Emperor clenched his jaw, but did not answer with arrogance. Perhaps because he knew this was not the time. Perhaps because he had already seen what happened when an idiot Monarch thought he could play games with Strax.

"Then say what you came to seek."

"Lord Vaelis Oranth. Superior Archivist of the Wing of Forgotten Records."

The hall changed.

Not openly.

But Strax saw it.

A minister looked away. An imperial mage went rigid. A silver-haired woman touched her own ring. The Emperor noticed too, and his face became harder.

"Vaelis disappeared this morning."

Daniela let out a humorless laugh.

"How convenient."

Derick turned to one of the officers.

"I ordered that no one hide this information."

The officer began to sweat.

"Lord Derick, we were still confirming—"

Strax looked at the man.

He stopped speaking.

The Emperor descended one step.

"He was called to the archives before dawn and did not return. When we sent guards, they found the room sealed from inside."

Frieren raised her face.

"Sealed how?"

"By records."

She became serious.

"That is not an ordinary answer."

"No," the Emperor said. "It is not."

Strax looked at Ouroboros.

She closed her eyes for two seconds.

"The thread descends."

"To the archives?"

"Yes. But it passes through someone in this hall."

Everyone went still.

Strax slowly turned his face toward the advisers.

The Emperor spoke low:

"Who?"

Ouroboros raised her hand.

She did not point to a general.

Did not point to the sweating minister.

Did not point to the silver-haired woman.

She pointed to the most discreet man in the hall, a thin imperial scribe in simple clothes, standing behind the row of advisers, holding a stack of documents as if he were invisible.

The man blinked.

Then smiled.

"Ah."

Samira drew the greatsword.

"That ’ah’ was terrible."

The scribe let the documents fall.

The pages touched the floor and immediately began to crumble into sand.

Derick advanced.

"Seize him!"

The soldiers moved.

Too late.

The scribe’s shadow opened a golden eye.

The entire hall darkened for a second, despite the light entering through the windows. The man raised his arms, and dozens of names written in documents, plaques, seals, and rings began to glow gold. Advisers screamed as their own signatures detached from papers like luminous threads, being pulled into the shadow on the floor.

Frieren shouted:

"Do not let the names leave the records!"

Strax was already moving.

He crossed the hall like black-and-white lightning, grabbing the scribe by the neck before the shadow finished opening. But the man’s body dissolved into old paper, sand, and dried ink between his fingers.

The voice came from all the documents at once.

"You arrived early."

The Emperor raised a golden barrier around the advisers, but three luminous threads had already been pulled into the shadow. The men struck by them fell to their knees, empty-eyed, trying to remember who they were.

Cassandra opened a circle of mana over the scattered records.

"Frieren!"

"I know!"

Frieren threw talismans over the documents, pinning the luminous names back to the letters before they could escape. Daniela leapt onto the side table and cut a shadow crawling toward the throne. Samira struck the floor, splitting the marble and interrupting a line of sand trying to reach the Emperor’s feet.

Strax looked at the center of the shadow.

"Vaelis."

The shadow laughed.

"That was one of my names."

"Then I will tear them all out."

At the far end of the hall, a door opened on its own.

It was not the main door.

It was a small passage used by servants and archivists.

Behind it, stairs descended.

And from them came the smell of hot sand.

Ouroboros looked at Strax.

"He is below."

The shadow began to close the passage.

Strax smiled.

"Then we go down."

The Emperor took a step.

"I am going with you."

Strax looked at him.

"Are you?"

"This happened inside my palace."

"Then follow. But if you get in the way, I leave you behind."

The entire hall seemed to choke.

The Emperor merely nodded.

"Fair."

Strax walked toward the stairs.

Samira, Daniela, Cassandra, Frieren, and Ouroboros followed.

Derick followed the Emperor.

And as they descended toward the underground archives of the Heavenly Capital, the white walls of the palace began to bleed sand through the cracks.