When everyone had taken their seats, I motioned once.
"Shuna. Tea."
Shuna, who had been guiding people through the guesthouse, understood immediately. She didn't stiffen. She didn't hesitate. She simply turned and gave a quiet instruction to the servers.
No trembling hands. No anxious glances.
Not just Shuna—every attendant moved like this was an ordinary day.
As if it didn't matter who sat in this room.
That level of composure wasn't natural. It was earned. Vesta's strict training had turned them into professionals who didn't flinch even when kings, demons, and dragons breathed the same air.
Tea arrived. The fragrance was clean, warm, steady—like a fragile layer of peace placed on top of a battlefield.
I took one sip.
Then I set the cup down.
And we moved to the real reason Guy had been brought here.
"The reason Diablo asked you to come today," I said, voice level, "is simple. I have a question for you, Guy."
Guy Crimson didn't slouch. He didn't swagger the way he did around others.
Not here.
Not in Eterna.
His eyes stayed sharp, his posture controlled—like a man walking a thin bridge over a bottomless pit.
"What's that?" he asked.
"The Empire attacked us," I said. "We repelled them. We considered moving from our side—until we learned Velgrynd is in the Empire too."
My gaze slid briefly to the woman beside him.
Velzard.
White hair like frozen moonlight. Eyes like deep ocean ice. She sat with perfect grace, like royalty carved out of winter itself.
But when she looked at me, she didn't look down.
She studied.
Measuring. Listening. Testing the air.
"And judging from what I've confirmed," I continued, "there's a connection between you and the Empire."
Guy's mouth curved.
"Oh," he said, amused. "You noticed."
That grin gave me a bad feeling. Not fear.
Disgust.
I didn't look away.
"You've been trying to hinder the Empire from increasing its strength," I said. "That's why you kept certain things from collapsing. Why you let pieces remain on the board."
I kept my voice calm, but inside, something was tightening—like a chain being pulled link by link.
"You mentioned a game before," I said. "So tell me—who are you playing against?"
For a second, the room seemed to lose sound. Even the crackle of the fireplace felt distant.
Guy answered without hesitation, like it was a harmless story.
"Kukuku… if you've noticed that much, I'll tell you."
He leaned forward slightly.
"I made a bet with some asshole. He talked ideals. Dreams. A world he wanted to force into existence. So I decided to show him reality."
Guy's tone was casual.
Too casual.
"And we agreed not to fight each other directly," he continued. "We play using pawns. Whoever crushes the other's pawns wins."
He said it like it was clever.
Like it was fun.
I asked anyway, even though I already knew.
"The pawns in your hands refer to…?"
Guy's grin flickered for the first time.
Just for a moment.
He glanced at me—then away.
"Well," he said slowly, choosing his words with care, "it's the demon lords."
He didn't say my name.
He didn't call me a pawn.
Not because he was polite.
Because he was afraid of what would happen the instant he did.
That alone should've been enough to make him stop.
But he kept going.
"So," I said, coldly steady, "your opponent is the Emperor of the Empire."
Guy nodded.
"Correct. Emperor Rudra is my recognized rival."
The words hit like a blade sliding between ribs.
Not because of Rudra.
Not because of Guy.
But because of what it meant.
Human lives. Nations. War. Fear. Death.
All of it reduced to a wager between monsters who called it entertainment.
And Guy had the audacity to explain it to me like I was supposed to accept it.
Like I was supposed to play along.
Something in me snapped—silent, deep, absolute.
Not rage like fire.
Rage like the void.
A king's wrath.
The room didn't explode.
Nothing shattered.
Because I did not lose control.
I claimed control.
In an instant—
A barrier rose.
Not light.
Not magic the way others understood it.
A law.
A boundary that simply became true.
Shuna and the servers didn't even see it form. One blink they were inside normal space—next blink they were watching through a thin, invisible veil, like looking into a sealed world.
Only five remained inside that barrier:
Me.
Guy.
Velzard.
Misery.
Raine.
Everyone else—Diablo, Benimaru, Shion, Shuna—stood outside, still able to see, still able to breathe… but no longer able to interfere.
Even sound changed.
It became heavy.
Like words were drowning before they could be spoken.
My presence shifted.
Not louder.
Not brighter.
Heavier.
And the air dropped.
Not temperature.
Pressure.
Authority.
A force that didn't crush the room—
It crushed meaning.
Even Velzard's eyes widened slightly.
The Frost Dragon—an existence that had watched ages pass like seconds—felt it.
A cold sweat slid down Guy's neck.
Misery and Raine moved on instinct—professional, ancient, fast.
A primordial does not panic.
A primordial calculates.
But calculation doesn't matter when the world itself decides you are not allowed to move.
Because my power didn't grab their bodies.
It grabbed their existence.
Eternal Dominion.
The moment it activated, invisible shackles
wrapped around them—around Guy's limbs, around Misery's breath, around Raine's heartbeat, around Velzard's vast, draconic soul.
They tried to resist.
It didn't matter.
They couldn't step back.
Couldn't blink properly.
Couldn't even shift their aura without permission.
For the first time—
A True Dragon felt fear.
Not fear of death.
Fear of something worse.
Fear of being judged.
Outside the barrier, Diablo's eyes gleamed like a worshipper watching a miracle.
He looked almost happy.
As if he'd been waiting his whole existence to see this side of me unleashed.
Benimaru's face tightened—he remembered that quiet moment, long ago, when I'd asked him if he truly understood what I was.
He understood now.
Shion's mouth opened slightly.
No sound came out.
Shuna's hands trembled around her tray.
Not because she was weak—
Because her mind couldn't accept what her eyes were seeing.
They had never seen me angry.
Not like this.
I stood slowly.
And as I rose, the pressure deepened.
The room did not break.
The air did not tear.
But Guy's expression changed.
His grin died.
His confidence drained away like blood from an open wound.
I looked at him.
Not at his face.
At what lived behind it.
At the soul that had laughed at human suffering.
At the pride that believed it could call others pieces.
My voice was calm.
Too calm.
"Guy Crimson."
The sound of his name carried weight like a verdict being stamped into reality.
His pupils tightened.
His mind screamed without sound.
Not here—Not now—Not like this—
He tried to speak.
His throat wouldn't obey.
Eternal Dominion tightened slightly.
And Guy understood something no one wanted to understand:
If I wished it, his existence could be erased without drama.
No battle.
No spectacle.
Just a king deciding a nuisance was no longer allowed to exist.
I stepped forward.
With each step, the pressure multiplied.
Not because my aura "grew."
Because I allowed less and less of the world to belong to anyone but me.
Guy's knees threatened to buckle.
Misery's hands trembled despite her discipline.
Raine's lips parted, but no words came.
Velzard's aura flared for a fraction of a second—instinctive, draconic—
And I denied it.
Not by force.
By authority.
Her power simply… stopped.
Like a sword refusing to leave its sheath.
Velzard stared at me, shock crossing her face.
This is… not domination… this is command.
She tried to speak—perhaps to calm it, perhaps to plead, perhaps to negotiate.
I didn't allow a single sound.
Silence is mercy.
Because if they spoke, they would remind me they were still breathing.
I reached Guy.
And I looked into him.
Deep.
Past his pride.
Past his arrogance.
Past his titles.
To the part of him that still understood consequences.
"You," I said quietly, "tried to make me your pawn."
Guy's body shook.
His soul shook harder.
Outwardly he wanted to deny it.
Inwardly he knew the truth.
He had been tempted.
Even thinking it had been a crime.
"Have you lost your mind," I continued, voice still calm, "and decided you don't want to live
anymore?"
The pressure dropped again.
Not in intensity.
In depth.
Even Velzard's breath hitched.
A True Dragon—an indestructible existence—stood frozen under my gaze like a child caught stealing.
"I told you before," I said, each word measured, "never interfere with Eterna's affairs."
My aura swelled—vast, terrible, majestic.
It felt demonic.
It felt divine.
It felt like law itself had taken form.
Yet the room remained untouched.
Not a cup cracked.
Not a painting shifted.
Because I wasn't raging mindlessly.
I was executing judgment with surgical perfection.
I lifted my hand—
And grabbed Guy by the throat.
His body rose off the floor like gravity had decided to obey me instead.
The moment my fingers closed, Guy's eyes widened in pure, helpless panic.
He tried to claw at my wrist.
His arms barely moved.
Eternal Dominion held him like a fly pinned to a board.
Blood began to leak from his eyes.
Then his nose.
Then his ears.
His mouth opened and red spilled down his chin as his body convulsed.
Not because I was squeezing his neck.
Because I was squeezing his soul.
Pain at a level that couldn't be screamed out.
Pain that didn't belong to flesh.
Misery's eyes were wide now.
Raine's face was pale.
Velzard—Velzard the Frost Dragon—stared at Guy dangling in my hand and then back at me.
And in her eyes, I saw it.
Not arrogance.
Not superiority.
Not disdain.
Fear.
Respect.
Understanding.
She realized Guy hadn't brought her here to "show strength."
He brought her because he thought her presence might keep me civil.
He was wrong.
Velzard tried to plead again.
Her lips moved.
No sound came.
I didn't even look at her as I spoke.
Because she had done nothing to deserve my wrath.
And I remembered Veldora.
I would not stain this moment by harming his sister.
My grip remained on Guy alone.
Then—
A voice spoke inside my mind.
Not to the room.
Not to them.
To me alone.
Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom.
Master, Solarys warned, calm and exact.
If you continue, they will all die. The pressure is reaching their cores. Their souls are being affected.
I stared at Guy.
A part of me wanted to finish it.
Erase him.
Erase the game.
Erase the hands that treated lives like chips on a table.
But a king doesn't destroy the world just to prove he can.
A king chooses the punishment that reshapes reality.
I lowered Guy slightly so he could see my eyes.
And I spoke like a decree carved into time.
"Guy."
My fingers loosened just enough for him to breathe—barely.
His body shook violently, coughing blood.
He didn't speak.
He couldn't.
He could only listen.
"I give you three days," I said.
"Go to Rudra. End this stupid game."
Guy's eyes bulged with terror.
A demon lord who ruled calamity… reduced to a trembling prisoner in my hand.
"If you don't," I continued, voice quiet but absolute,
"I will erase you… and Rudra… and anyone who stands in my path."
Then I released him.
Guy collapsed to the floor like a broken marionette.
He didn't rise.
He didn't laugh.
He didn't smirk.
He simply breathed—shallow, shaking, alive only because I allowed it.
The barrier remained for one more heartbeat.
Just long enough for all of them to understand:
They had witnessed something that should not exist.
Then it fell away.
Air returned.
Sound returned.
The room looked normal.
But no one was normal anymore.
Outside the barrier, Shion finally exhaled—like she'd been underwater.
Benimaru's fist unclenched slowly.
Shuna's eyes were wet, but she did not move.
Diablo looked like a man witnessing the face of his god.
And Guy Crimson—
Guy didn't look at anyone.
He stared at the floor, trembling.
Because he now understood the truth:
This was never his game.
It never belonged to Rudra either.
It belonged to the King who had been patient long enough.
And patience had ended.