Chapter 866
Back at the entrance, Kiara stood still, watching everything unfold with quiet attention.
She had not given Baltrow any order.
She did not need to.
The manticore had acted on its own.
A display.
A warning.
A declaration.
Kiara's eyes flickered briefly.
"Good," she thought.
If Baltrow would not fight for her yet, then at least it could serve another purpose.
Fear.
Pressure.
Leverage.
Within moments, General Calden arrived, his boots striking the ground with urgency before he came to an abrupt halt, his gaze snapping toward Baltrow.
Yet—
His focus shifted.
Unintentionally.
Toward Noah.
For a fraction of a second, his disciplined expression cracked, his eyes lingering longer than they should, as if something about her presence disrupted his thoughts.
Then he forced himself back.
Duty first.
A shadow passed overhead.
Wind pressed down.
A massive blue drake descended, its wings folding as it landed with controlled force that sent a faint tremor through the ground. Upon its back stood Xander Cross, already holding his bow, ether energy gathering along its limbs like lightning waiting to be released.
His eyes scanned the scene.
Measured.
Sharp.
Then they landed on Kiara.
And finally—
On Baltrow.
Confusion flickered across his face.
"Miss Kiara…" he said slowly, his voice cautious, "is this creature… yours?"
Kiara stepped forward calmly, Felix resting in her arms, her expression steady as if nothing unusual had happened.
"Of course," she replied.
Then, after a brief pause, she added, her tone casual yet deliberate, "Though at the moment… Baltrow is also a guest of the Emperor."
Xander's brows furrowed slightly.
A guest.
An 8-star beast king.
At the palace gates.
The implications were not simple.
He turned his attention to Baltrow directly.
"You are causing unnecessary panic," he said, his voice firm but respectful. "Please suppress your aura."
For a moment, silence stretched.
Then—
Baltrow's eyes shifted.
It studied him.
Measured him.
"You are only at 7-star," it said slowly, its voice deep and resonant, yet calm. "But you understand restraint."
A pause.
"That is a rare quality."
Then—
The pressure lifted gradually like a storm receding.
"Very well."
The aura disappeared.
The world breathed again.
The chief eunuch staggered slightly, his face pale, his mind struggling to process what he had just witnessed.
"It… spoke…"
Soon after, more figures arrived, though their pace slowed as the aura vanished. The Emperor himself approached, accompanied by his son, their expressions composed yet alert as they reached the entrance hall where Kiara and the others had already stepped inside.
The third prince's gaze flickered uncertainly.
"Is that… the Beast Emperor?" he muttered quietly, his senses too weak to grasp the truth fully.
Then his attention shifted.
To Kiara.
He stared.
"Why she look so similar to mother?" he thought.
"I am pleased you accepted my invitation," Alexander Phoenix said, his voice smooth, carrying both authority and warmth as he stepped forward.
His gaze swept across the group.
"Kiara… Baltrow… Felix."
Then, after a brief pause, he added, "And you as well… Zion, Noah."
The acknowledgment was subtle.
But meaningful.
Even Xander Cross was invited to join them, a gesture that did not go unnoticed.
*
Inside the dining hall, everything had been arranged with precision.
The table stretched long, filled with dishes that released fragrant aromas into the air, yet despite the abundance, tension lingered like an unseen guest seated among them.
Two special seats had been placed.
Large.
Ornate.
Prepared specifically for the beasts.
Kiara noticed.
Of course she did.
Her eyes flickered briefly toward the Emperor.
"Interesting…"
The arrangement was not accidental.
Nothing here was.
Felix sat near the Emperor.
For a while, Alexander tried.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Reaching out.
Offering food.
Trying to bridge a gap that refused to close.
But the kitten ignored him entirely.
Its small ears flicked once, its body shifting slightly as it drank its milk without acknowledging his presence.
The Emperor smiled.
Patient.
But there was a faint strain beneath it.
Then—
Felix finished.
In one motion, it leaped down.
Crossed the distance and settled into Kiara's lap.
Curling.
Sleeping.
Choosing.
The meaning was obvious.
The Emperor's smile faded slightly.
Around the table, reactions simmered.
Kristof Drake, Everson Drake, and Serestia Phoenix all stared at Kiara, their gazes sharp, filled with restrained hostility. Each of them carried their own grievances, their own thoughts, their own expectations of what this meeting should become.
The Archbishop and Xander Cross remained quieter, their eyes drifting occasionally toward Baltrow and Felix, their thoughts clearly focused on the beasts rather than the politics unfolding.
The third prince glanced at Zion repeatedly, something unreadable in his gaze, as if old tension lingered just beneath the surface.
And Quenric…
He simply ate.
Silently.
Choosing not to involve himself in a storm he did not wish to stand in.
The meal passed in silence.
When the dishes were finally cleared, the atmosphere shifted.
The real purpose surfaced.
"Kiara," the Emperor said, his tone changing, becoming sharper, more focused. "Let us talk."
His gaze moved.
One by one, several people stood and left.
Quenric.
Xander.
Darryon Drake.
Kaelan Phoenix.
Serestia.
The room emptied.
Silence deepened.
Then the Emperor's eyes turned toward Zion and Noah.
"This matter is confidential," he began. "Your servants—"
"Siblings." Kiara cut him off immediately.
Her voice was calm.
But firm.
"They are my siblings. What I do… they are part of. What they do… I am part of."
The words settled heavily in the room.
Everson Drake shifted slightly, discomfort flashing across his face before he spoke.
"That is fine," he said reluctantly.
Kiara turned toward him.
Her gaze was steady and unyielding.
"You killed members of Thanatos Church," Everson said, his voice tightening. "You abducted my son and held him for a week. And then handed him to the Kunyu bandits."
Each accusation landed like a hammer.
"How much of it is true?"
Kiara did not hesitate. "All of it."
Her tone was calm.
Flat.
Unapologetic.
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut.
"Your Majesty," Everson said, turning sharply, "there is no need for further evidence."
The Emperor inhaled slowly.
Then looked at Kiara.
"Why?" he asked. "Do you hold enmity with House Drake?"
Kiara shook her head. "No."
Her voice remained steady. "He attacked me. I retaliated. He used his clan name to threaten me."
A pause.
"I punished him. Nothing more. Nothing less."
Everson's hand clenched at her words.
Anger surged.
But before he could act, the Archbishop placed a hand on his arm, a silent reminder of Baltrow's presence.
Everson exhaled slowly.
"My son is not a commoner," he said, his voice controlled but trembling beneath the surface.
Kiara's gaze turned cold.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
"I have my limits," she said. "And anyone who crosses them…"
A pause.
Her eyes shifted.
Not just to Everson.
But to the Emperor.
"I will not spare them as long as I have such capability."
The words landed.
Not as a threat.
But as a fact.
Kiara's answer fell into the room like a stone dropped into still water, and the ripples it created were impossible to ignore, spreading through every mind present with a quiet but undeniable force. There was no hesitation in her voice, no attempt to soften her stance, and that alone made it clear that whatever followed would not be simple negotiation but a clash of will hidden beneath calm words.
For a brief moment, silence lingered.
Everson Drake's fingers tightened around the armrest of his chair, the faint creak of wood breaking through the stillness as his knuckles turned pale. His chest rose and fell slowly, but the effort behind each breath was obvious, as if he was forcing himself not to explode in anger right there.
"This… this is beyond arrogance," he thought, his gaze fixed sharply on Kiara. "She does not even pretend to respect the Emperor."
Across from him, Alexander Phoenix remained composed, but his eyes carried a different weight now, something deeper than mere curiosity. He watched Kiara carefully, measuring not just her words but the intent behind them, the quiet confidence that did not come from recklessness but from certainty.
"She is not bluffing," he realized. "And that is what makes her dangerous."
To Everson, however, things looked very different.
In his eyes, Kiara's attitude was nothing short of defiance against the throne itself, a challenge that no noble, no vassal, no subject should dare to make so openly. The more he thought about it, the more it burned, the sense of humiliation mixing with helplessness until it became something sharp and bitter in his chest.
"She won't even apologize… Not even for formality…"
His jaw tightened further.
"She does not even see us as equals."
Yet, for the Emperor, the same scene painted another picture entirely.
From his perspective, Kiara's actions were not unreasonable.
A young heir of House Drake had attacked her.
Threatened her.
Relied on his clan's name.
In many cases, such an insult would have been answered with death.
The fact that Kristof Drake was still alive…
"That itself is mercy," Alexander thought quietly.
"If it were someone else…"
He did not finish the thought.
He did not need to.