"I like to think I'm a simple person... but seeing how you guys are living... it really makes me wonder... How are we so rich?" Strax asked, seeing that the mansion was completely finished in just two weeks...

Of course, you're probably wondering: "But hasn't this shit been rebuilt already?"

Well, it's a valid question! However, it's good to remember that we have many rooms and many mouths to feed, and even though most don't need it because they maintain their bodies through cultivation, they still follow the simple human life of waking up, having breakfast, lunch, an afternoon snack, and of course, dinner.

It's all Monica's fault, who becomes an even better cook with each passing day. But let's ignore those facts.

The real problem is... well, maybe the money Cristine and Yennifer brought is really killing it...

"Man, who bought that?" Strax asked, pointing to the tapestry on the floor, like a rug... It looked really expensive.

Monica, who was cleaning up after returning from City Hall, looked at him and commented, "That was free. A merchant who passed by earlier did good business with one of the stores we're supporting."

Strax looked at her. "What do you mean, we're supporting them?"

Monica looked at him as if he were blaspheming, and commented, "Do you think a city will spring up out of nowhere after experiencing total destruction? Honey, we have to be creative and encourage the population. Besides, we've received more gold from Rogue and Samira."

Strax looked at her... "More gold... how much?"

"50,000 gold coins... that should be... well, quite a lot of money. Probably about two fiscal years for the city." She said with a shrug.

"Besides, of course, it's an investment, so we get a share of the profits from the establishments, maintaining good harmony with the people, we have more support, more labor, and more purchasing power for expansion to the North," she added.

Even though Strax was pretty clueless when it came to administrative matters, it was nice to know that Monica, at least, was easily good at it all. But of course, she wasn't alone.

"Frieren sent me this plan for now, so I'll manage what we have well and we'll gradually build the future of this place," Monica finished as she dusted the new furniture that had just arrived minutes before Strax returned home.

Monica and Friren were the brains behind the creation of this empire, or whatever it would become for their future. The fact was, now they were taking responsibility. And of course... nothing better than a Queen like Frieren to create these new opportunities.

"Okay, so you're communicating, that's good," Strax said, sitting on the white leather sofa and crossing his legs as he glanced at some slightly covered paintings.

"Yes, we're having a lot of contact using the magical communication she sent," Monica said with a smile and walked toward Strax.

"That was truly surprising, just as on our continent they have many methods of communication, though I don't think they're the most efficient," Strax said.

Monica approached slowly, the sound of her footsteps almost lost among the rustling of parchment and the soft crackling of the embers.

Strax looked up the instant she stopped in front of him—her face illuminated by the warm light of the fireplace, her gaze calm, yet filled with something he didn't see often: tenderness.

Gently, she grabbed her skirt and lifted it slightly, just enough to settle onto his lap. The movement was natural, familiar… as if she'd done it a thousand times before.

Strax welcomed her in silence, his arm circling her waist in a gesture that was both protective and possessive.

He studied her face for a long moment, as if trying to memorize every detail—her pale skin, the pearly sheen in her nearly white hair, her eyes that held a soft warmth, unlikely for someone with draconic blood.

His fingers moved slowly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.

"You're getting more and more beautiful, you know that?" he murmured, his deep voice sounding more like a whisper that shook the air.

Monica smiled slightly, her lips curving with grace and irony. "Is that so? Or are you seeing me through different eyes?"

Strax let out a low sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.

"Maybe," he replied. "Maybe it's the world that changes when we begin to truly love."

She rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes for a moment.

Ever since she had transformed—ever since the draconic power had mingled with her human essence—Monica had been changing every day.

Her skin seemed to glow more in the light, her eyes held reflections reminiscent of the liquid gold of ancient dragons.

But perhaps what Strax saw in her wasn't the physical change... but the way she had become part of what he cherished most: home, peace, the balance he rarely found within himself.

Her hands rose to his neck, her fingers gliding gently over his warm skin.

She leaned closer, her body fitting naturally against his, and whispered in his ear, her voice low and soft:

"I'm getting cold... hold me."

Strax obeyed without a word.

His embrace enveloped her completely, firm, warm—a shelter from the chill coming from the stone walls and also from the chill that lived inside her.

For a moment, the outside world ceased to exist.

Only the sound of their breathing filled the room. But it was short-lived...

"Stop rubbing yourself against him, you naughty, self-righteous maid." Her voice cut through the air like a blade.

Strax and Monica turned at the same time, interrupted by Kali's irritated tone.

She was leaning against the doorframe, one hand on her hip, her gaze flickering between jealousy, sarcasm, and pure insolence.

But what really caught the eye was her condition.

Hair disheveled, breathing heavily, and a wild glint in her golden eyes.

Despite her tired appearance, there was something dangerously alluring about her posture.

Her clothes, if they could be called that, were an affront in themselves: a dark leather top that barely covered the bare essentials, a pair of tiger-skin shorts that were too tight, and braided bands on her arms and thighs, revealing more skin than they hid.

Her style was reminiscent of hot city girls… a draconian and dangerous version of a gyaru who smelled of smoke and gunpowder.

"Party pooper," Monica sighed softly, still on Strax's lap.

Her eyes flashed with a hint of amusement, as if she'd already expected this scene.

"You look irritated, Kali," she said, her voice sweet and provocative, turning to face the newcomer. "Did you work too hard?"

Kali took a step forward, the shadow of her body crossing the floor until it touched Strax's feet.

"Angry?" she replied with a short laugh. "Just a little."

Her gaze narrowed, fixing Monica with disdain. "I can't stand training those useless Beast Monarchs anymore."

Strax looked at her and smiled. "Good thing I picked someone so demanding," he commented, then added, "I gave you the best job possible, right?"

Kali glared at him, wanting to choke him to death, but ignored him because...

"I-I'm not that demanding..." She stammered at the compliment... was it a compliment, right? Well, for her, yes. Being demanding is good. Imagine not being. At least that's what she thought, and well, it was a pretty sweet thought coming from that tanned woman's rebellious and flirtatious nature.

Monica looked at her, almost questioning: "Seriously?"

She turned her head as if to answer: "Hmph! I'm a serious woman."

Strax looked at it and could only think how cute they both were when they were jealous... Then came the question.

"What made you come here? You said it would take a while to show up and that you'd only return with pertinent results from those idiots." He asked Kali directly, who finally came to her senses, putting aside her blush and finally returning to her serious expression.

"It turns out someone wants to see you outside." Kali said and sighed, "I don't know the details because the Beast Monarch didn't want to talk. In fact, he's scared shitless out there. So I came to get you." Kali shrugged and continued, "It seems the Beast Monarch wasn't the Beast Monarch after all…"

Strax looked at her, unsure of what she meant, but then he motioned for Monica to get off him, and she stood up.

"Who's out there?"

Kali looked at him… "You'd better go there yourself… if I tell you, you'll think I'm crazy."

The sound of his boots echoed heavily across the marble, drowning out the crackling of the embers still burning in the fireplace.

Strax walked toward her, passing by her without a word.

His black cloak dragged across the floor, the weight of his power making the air vibrate slightly.

Monica straightened her skirt, still unsure of what was about to happen, and followed them into the hallway—but stood there, watching as they disappeared through the main entrance.

Outside, the cold wind blew hard, carrying the smell of earth and ash. Night was beginning to fall over Kaelthur, and the torches scattered throughout the courtyard illuminated the walls and gates with an orange glow.

The guards stood motionless. None of them dared make a sound.

They all looked in the same direction: toward the main gate.

Strax took a few more steps, and the sound of his own footsteps seemed to dominate the space.

Kali followed him, her golden eyes fixed on the darkness beyond the gate.

With each step he took, the air grew heavier.

Something... large was outside.

"Open the gate," Strax said, his voice deep and calm, unhurried.

The warriors hesitated for a moment, but his gaze was enough to make them obey.

The chains shifted, the iron mechanisms creaked, and the colossal wood began to open.

A chilling wind swept through the courtyard.

And then… the sound came.

A roar—deep, deafening, almost divine.

A sound that sent birds fleeing, that brought soldiers to their knees, and that made even the walls of the mansion tremble.

Smoke rose with the sound, and from the mist that shrouded the road emerged… him.

A white tiger.

But no ordinary animal.

The creature was colossal—over two meters tall at the shoulders alone, and twice that standing on its hind legs.

Its white fur gleamed like snow in the moonlight, marked by silver stripes that seemed to glow with living energy.

Its eyes—two beacons of bluish light—watched Strax with intelligence and contained fury.

Behind him, dozens of other tigers, of varying sizes, marched silently, their presence almost suffocating.

And among them, some seemed… different. Magic pulsed through their forms, as if they were direct descendants of an ancient and proud lineage.

The gate opened, and the ground vibrated as the beast took a step forward.

Her aura spread like a storm—dense, savage, almost divine.

Strax stood his ground, his golden eyes blazing in response.

The spiritual pressure between them collided instantly.

The air crackled, and a thin layer of energy formed between them, as if the world itself hesitated to let them near.

Kali frowned, her body tense. Even she—a dragon, a warrior demon—felt the weight of that presence.

The primal instinct within her screamed to retreat.

But Strax only took a step forward.

"Who are you?" he asked, without raising his voice. Yet the sound seemed to echo throughout the courtyard, firm, unwavering.

The tiger roared again, but this time... there were words.

The voice was deep, resonant, almost like articulate thunder: "I'm Shura," the creature said.

"Shura? Oh, hi, I'm Strax." He said, pointing to himself, and then looked at her and his subordinates... "What do you want in my city?"

"We just want that wretched Rakan, we don't want any trouble with you."

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