The Royal Strategy Room had never been this quiet.
No murmurs. No shifting chairs. No arguments.
Just a thick, suffocating silence.
Every noble, council member, and strategist had their eyes locked on Nyssa.
She stood at the head of the war table, arms crossed, her golden eyes cold and calculating. The flickering candlelight threw sharp shadows over her face, making her look almost unearthly.
The weight of King Leonen's words still hung in the air, crushing everything beneath it.
Finally—King Eldors found his voice.
"Wha—what did King Leonen say?"
Nyssa exhaled, steady and controlled, before she recounted everything.
She did not soften the edges.
She told them how Leonen mocked Velmor. How he didn't even consider them a nation.
How Apollo himself had stepped in.
She did not add unnecessary emotion. She didn't need to.
Because the truth alone was heavy enough.
When she finished, the silence that followed was even heavier than before.
King Eldors sat motionless, his hands limp on the table. His gaze was lowered, staring at nothing.
But everyone could see it.
The defeat.
The realization that everything was so much worse than they thought.
For the first time—there was no illusion of hope.
Then—
"Let me talk to King Leonen."
Krios' voice broke the silence, sharp and confident.
Everyone turned.
He stood with his arms folded, cracking his knuckles. His grin was lazy, but his golden eyes burned.
Nyssa barely glanced at him.
"Sometimes, try using your brain, Krios."
Krios exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Velmor needs a spine. If we keep bowing to people like Leonen, we'll never have one."
A heavy pause.
Some of the nobles shifted uncomfortably. Others looked away.
Because they knew he wasn't wrong.
Nyssa studied him for a moment, then turned back to the council, her voice calm, but firm.
"Arathis isn't just a nation. And King Leonen isn't the ruler of Arathis for nothing."
She pressed a finger against the map on the table.
"Arathis is the trading and commerce heart of the entire northeastern region. If anything happens to it—the entire region collapses."
She let that sink in.
"If Arathis falls, so does trade. So does the economy. So do countless smaller nations that depend on it. That's why Leonen can speak with such arrogance—because he knows we need him."
Her voice remained steady. Unshaken. Unbothered.
King Eldors closed his eyes. His voice was tired, resigned.
"I understand, Nyssa. And… thank you for trying. But the truth is, we can't do anything. Velmor is—"
"We're finished."
One noble sighed heavily, slumping in his chair.
"We shouldn't push any further," another muttered. "Otherwise, we'll end up like Zeloria."
A name. A warning.
The energy in the room shifted.
Nyssa's eyes snapped toward them.
"Zeloria?"
The name felt like a puzzle piece falling into place.
King Eldors nodded slowly.
"Zeloria was a nation like Velmor. Small, but with natural resources, fertile land, and a clean water supply. They were thriving."
Nyssa's grip on the map tightened.
"So what happened?"
The king's face darkened.
"Zeloria made the mistake of protesting against the trade contracts forced on them by larger nations. Arathis and the others responded by cutting them off."
The room felt colder.
Nyssa's fingers tapped against the wooden table.
"And Zeloria still has a trade ban?"
King Eldors nodded grimly.
"Yes. It's been ten years."
A pause.
Then—
A slow, wicked grin curled at the edges of Nyssa's lips.
"Ten years, huh?"
Krios blinked. "…Why are you smiling like that?"
Nyssa didn't answer.
Instead, her golden eyes gleamed.
"What's Zeloria's distance from Velmor?"
One of the nobles hesitated.
"Fifteen kilometers."
Nyssa's grin widened.
Krios exhaled, a smirk creeping onto his lips.
"So, you already know how we're going to save Velmor, huh?"
Raezel, leaning against the far wall, finally spoke.
"Of course she does."
***
The room was bathed in soft golden light.
Stacks of documents and maps were spread across the table, half-read reports and hastily scribbled notes covering the wooden surface.
Nyssa sat with one leg crossed over the other, flipping through trade reports, a quill idly tapping against her palm.
Raezel stood near the window, watching.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then—
"So."
Raezel's voice was quiet, thoughtful.
"You already planned things out."
Nyssa smirked, resting her chin against her knuckles.
Her golden eyes glowed in the dim candlelight.
"I told them that day that I would save Velmor."
Her voice was calm. Certain. Unshakable.
She leaned back in her chair, her smirk deepening.
"And when I say something—consider it done."
Raezel exhaled.
A small chuckle escaped him.
Because he knew.
This was it.
The moment everything changed.