Gazel's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Varvatos. The pressure in the room still lingered from Veldora's aura, like a thundercloud that had yet to fully clear. He sat down upon his throne, letting the tension settle, the golden metal of his armor catching the light as he rested his chin on his hand.
Gazel:
"You claim you walk into my kingdom with peace, yet you stand beside a dragon who once nearly reduced this land to dust. And now you speak of uniting monsters under a single banner?"
Varvatos stepped forward slowly, his cape swaying slightly behind him. His tone remained calm, regal, with a quiet confidence that carried power in every syllable.
Varvatos:
"I speak only the truth, King Gazel. This land… this world… is at the edge of something far greater than what you or I have known. And monsters are no longer the mindless beasts of old. They are awakening, organizing, dreaming."
He looked around the room, catching the eye of every general, every soldier.
"And they need a kingdom. A future. One that doesn't clash with yours, but runs alongside it."
The generals weren't convinced. One of them, a tall dwarf with a scar over his right eye, stepped forward.
General Drogun:
"And why should we believe a word you say? Jura Forest is lawless—ruled by savagery and magic. You say you've befriended Veldora, but the Storm Dragon is a legend of destruction. Peace isn't in his nature."
Veldora, who had been staying quiet while grinning smugly, finally chuckled.
Veldora:
"Oh, come now! I've matured!"
He crossed his arms, turning to Gazel.
"I've been reformed. Thanks to my friends here, I now understand the value of… companionship, ramen, manga, and all that other delightful nonsense."
Gazel raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. Gobta, who had been trying not to sweat from the sheer weight of the room, blurted out—
Gobta:
"Yeah! Veldora-sama's totally different now! He even lets people sit next to him without getting evaporated!"
Varvatos chuckled softly, and even a few of the soldiers cracked faint smiles. But Gazel's expression remained unreadable.
The throne room had gone silent, a charged hush that seemed to grip every stone and soul in the hall. Gazel stood tall at the center of the polished marble floor, the golden crest of Dwargon gleaming behind him. His presence, even among his battle-hardened generals, radiated strength and resolve.
He stepped down from his throne, his heavy boots thudding against the floor like the tolling of a war drum.
Gazel:
"Let's say I believe your words, Varvatos… but words are wind. Power is proof. If you wish to gain my trust, show me what you truly are."
The room tensed. Soldiers along the walls straightened, hands drifting toward the hilts of their weapons. Generals shifted their weight, wary but ready. The silence stretched.
Varvatos, still standing calmly with his hands behind his back, let a slow smirk tug at the corner of his lips.
Varvatos:
"Don't get me wrong, King Gazel."
His voice was calm… but behind it was the pressure of a mountain.
"I could erase this entire kingdom with a snap of my fingers."
The words slammed into the room like a thunderclap. The temperature seemed to drop. Every soldier felt a chill that pierced bone. Even Gazel's sharp eyes flickered with the faintest trace of caution.
Varvatos:
"But destruction is not my intention. I came in peace… to build, not to ruin."
Before anyone could react, Varvatos raised a single finger. A shimmer, almost imperceptible, flickered in the air around him. Then—without light, without sound—a pulse of unseen magic flowed outward like a ripple in still water.
And suddenly…
Everyone froze.
Gazel, mid-step. His generals, caught mid-breath. Soldiers along the walls, locked in place. Even Veldora blinked once in curiosity but didn't move, sensing the depth of what Varvatos had done.
They were aware. They could see, hear, feel… but not move. Not even twitch a muscle. It was as if time itself had chosen to obey Varvatos instead of its own natural flow.
The air grew impossibly still.
Varvatos walked forward slowly, each footstep echoing like the toll of ancient judgment. He stopped just a few inches from Gazel—who, though frozen, could feel the weight of this man's presence more intimately now than ever.
Varvatos:
"Do you understand now, King Gazel?"
He tilted his head slightly, eyes glowing faintly with wisdom that stretched back countless centuries.
Varvatos:
"I did not come here to play games of dominance. I came to forge something that has never existed before. A kingdom where monsters and men can coexist—guided by power, yes, but tempered by purpose."
He turned his gaze to the frozen generals.
Varvatos:
"You fear what you do not understand. That is natural. But I offer you knowledge. Alliance. The chance to shape a future rather than be crushed by it."
Then, just as gently as it began, Varvatos released the spell. The invisible bindings shattered like glass in the wind.
Time returned.
Everyone staggered slightly—breaths returning in shaky gasps, muscles twitching, armor rattling. Sweat beaded on foreheads. The soldiers looked to their king in confusion and awe.
Gazel stood in place, unmoving. He locked eyes with Varvatos.
And for the first time, not as a king… but as a man, he gave a small nod.
Gazel:
"I understand."
The throne room was silent again—but this time, it was the silence of realization. Of respect earned not by words, but by the gravity of undeniable truth.
Gazel exhaled slowly and returned to his throne. His voice came softer this time, thoughtful.
Gazel:
"You wield power far beyond comprehension… but you temper it with vision. That is rare. Perhaps… you are exactly the kind of ruler the Jura Forest needs."
Varvatos smiled faintly and gave a small, respectful bow.
Varvatos:
"And perhaps the world needs kings like you, Gazel Dwargo."
From the side, Veldora clapped lightly, eyes gleaming with amusement.
Veldora:
"Wasn't that dramatic? He always does this sort of thing to make a point. Works every time!"
Gobta (still half-hiding behind a pillar):
"That was terrifying! Cool… but terrifying!"
The tension faded slightly, and Gazel chuckled—actually chuckled—at their antics.
Gazel:
"Come. Let us speak more… as rulers. There is much to discuss."
And so, the rulers made their way toward the private chamber beyond the throne—where alliances would be forged, plans drawn, and the future of nations decided.