"What in the world?" he muttered, caught off guard by the surreal scene unfolding on the display, the room's ambient hum seeming to grow louder in the tense silence.

The little boy who had withstood the three blasts now unleashed the absorbed energy in a counterattack, releasing it three times the usual lethality, as if the blasts had been merged and amplified within his scales. The combined force streaked back toward the defense room like a vengeful comet, its glow illuminating the ocean depths with an ominous radiance.

"Run—"

Boom!

The blast struck the defense room before Rudolf could complete his desperate order, engulfing the entire chamber in a cataclysmic explosion that obliterated it to bits, shards of metal and debris scattering through the water like shrapnel in a storm, the shockwave rippling outward and disturbing the serene underwater currents.

"Good job," Alice commended Flameborn warmly, her voice filled with maternal pride, causing the young dragon to beam with a wild, toothy smile, his scales shimmering faintly from the residual energy, basking in the praise amid the settling debris.

"Let's get going then," Rose said to the group, her tone light and determined as she propelled herself forward through the water with graceful ease, heading toward the ocean's depths where the heart of Atlantis lay.

"How dare you all act as you please and kill my people?" a commanding voice echoed through the waters, belonging to a majestic merman who emerged from the shadows of a coral archway. In his hand gleamed a golden trident with an ethereal glow, its prongs humming with ancient power that distorted the surrounding currents. The merman had long, flowing golden hair that billowed like seaweed in the gentle undersea breeze, framing a broad, muscular chest etched with intricate tattoos of oceanic lore. His lower half was that of a powerful sea creature, scaled and finned like a typical merfolk, undulating with fluid strength. Atop his head sat an ocean-blue crown encrusted with pearls and sapphires, its hue perfectly matching his piercing blue eyes. He was Oreon, the undisputed king of Atlantis, his presence radiating regal authority that seemed to command the very tides.

"We were here to talk. You attacked first. We simply defended ourselves as we saw fit," Bluestar replied calmly to the enraged king, her voice steady and unapologetic, cutting through the tension like a knife through water.

"You were the first to aggravate us by bypassing our force field," King Oren retorted, his initial fury simmering as he forced himself to regain composure, deciding to pursue the diplomatic route despite the boiling anger in his chest, his grip tightening on the trident.

"We didn't have a choice. There was no other way to bypass the force field," Bluestar explained matter-of-factly, her expression neutral as she floated gracefully in the current.

"Very well. Follow me then. I will at least hear you out," King Oren conceded, his voice measured as he gestured with his trident, inviting the ladies to accompany him for a diplomatic conversation, though suspicion lingered in his blue eyes like storm clouds over the sea.

---

The city of Atlantis, the majestic capital of the planet itself, was a breathtaking work of art, an underwater metropolis crafted from priceless materials that gleamed with iridescent beauty. Towering spires of polished coral and crystal rose from the seabed, intertwined with bioluminescent vines that cast a soft, enchanting glow over the bustling avenues where merfolks swam with elegant purpose. The architecture blended seamless technology with natural elegance, domes of transparent alloy enclosing vibrant markets filled with the scents of exotic sea flora and the hum of advanced machinery.

The castle of Atlantis stood as the crown jewel, a sprawling edifice of mother-of-pearl walls and gold-veined marble that left the ladies genuinely impressed, more than they would care to admit, its grandeur evoking a sense of ancient wonder as schools of colorful fish darted through its archways.

Following King Oren through the opulent halls, where murals of legendary sea battles shimmered on the walls, they arrived at his royal court, a vast chamber adorned with throne-like seats carved from massive seashells. They settled into the seats provided by the king's steward, a deferential merman whose movements were precise and reverent, the cushions yielding softly under them.

"So? What do you wish to discuss with me?" King Oren asked, seating himself regally on his throne, a masterpiece of intertwined gold and sapphire that seemed to pulse with the ocean's rhythm. His face maintained a mask of neutrality, his blue eyes fixed attentively on the ladies, ready to weigh every word they uttered.

"Surrender. Everyone within this planet offers to serve my husband, Emperor Aaron. And in return, they will be granted strength, safety, and longevity," Alice stated directly, cutting straight to the heart of the matter without preamble, her voice firm and unwavering. There was no need to beat around the bush, she believed, her posture exuding quiet confidence in the echoing chamber.

"That's what you want to discuss?" King Oren inquired, a deep frown creasing his regal features as his mood visibly deteriorated, the neutral mask cracking under the weight of indignation.

"Yes," Alice replied, nodding her head in calm affirmation, her eyes meeting his without flinching.

"Such arrogance. Well, I have a counteroffer for you all," King Oren said, reining in his rising fury with visible effort, his voice steady but edged with steel.

"You all come under me and become my concubines. Your husband, whoever he is, can be granted a low-rank nobility as long as he remains obedient. Should he refuse, his sentence is nothing but death," King Oren declared with finality, his imposing voice resonating through the court like a decree from the depths.

"Did. You. Just. Ask. Father's. Wives. To. Be your concubines?" Flameborn asked slowly, the young dragon's small fingers clutching into tight fists as anger simmered in his voice, his eyes narrowing with barely contained rage.

"Yes. They should consider it mercy from me, given the audacity they had to ask me to submit to some nobody," King Oren continued arrogantly, oblivious to the grave he was digging for himself with his own words, his golden hair swaying slightly in the current.

"You bastard. I'm not going to spare you," Flameborn decided firmly, rising to his feet as he transformed into his true dragon form, his body expanding with a surge of dark energy that rippled through the water, scales shifting and hardening.

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