[Chapter 254. The Spoils of the Night]

Searanox flew over to the forest northwest of his city, the travel drone slicing through the night air with an almost silent hum. The darkness ahead was a tapestry of black silhouettes, the trees standing like sentinels against the moonless sky. As he reached the small river flowing through it, he noticed that the portal was not the vibrant blue it should be. Even from a distance, he could see it was in its regenerative phase, its usual luminescence replaced by a muted dark blue with hints of purple. The surface rippled like disturbed water, but the energy that should have arced and danced across its threshold was absent.

He landed his drone next to the river and saw that the dungeon was still in a two-hour cooldown period. The air around the portal felt heavy, charged with residual energy that made the hairs on his arms stand on end. A faint metallic scent, reminiscent of lightning, hung in the air—a stark contrast to the earthy smell of the river and the surrounding forest. The portal's edge was lined with large river stones that had begun to droop during its dormant state, as if the portal lacked the strength to keep them afloat.

"They are not only trying to attack me; they are also blocking my progress. This is my forest," he said, dropping the corpses of the nine from his ring onto the riverbank.

The bodies landed with a series of wet thuds, their limbs contorted in death. The river's gentle current lapped at the edges of the makeshift graveyard, its clear waters darkening as it absorbed the seeping blood. The sight of their lifeless forms sprawling in disarray sent a cold satisfaction through him.

`Enjoy your time in my forest as long as you still can.`

The thought was met with a surge of rage, but he pushed it down. It would do him no good to start a war right away. First, he needed to know everything about them, and then he needed to become stronger. The rage coiled in his gut like a serpent, its venom tempting him with promises of swift vengeance, but he forced it down, knowing impulsive action would only lead to his downfall. Instead, he focused on the cold, calculating part of his mind that thrived on strategy and planning. He needed information, resources, and power. He would acquire them by any means necessary.

On the way back to Androxis, he looked down at the landscape. The rolling grasslands between the city and the forest stretched out like a vast, undulating sea of green. The moon, now peeking through thinning clouds, cast a silvery glow over the plains, highlighting the gentle swells and dips of the terrain. He saw the towering shapes of the Titan Bulls resting on the grass, their massive forms looking like moving hills under the night sky. Their herds had grown since he last gave them his attention. Their breath plumed in the cool air, and their low, rumbling calls echoed across the plains.

`The world is changing. The beasts are growing in numbers. And to top it all off, we get invaded by demon-looking motherfuckers who steal my dungeons right from under my nose.`

The thought was bitter, a stark reminder of the challenges he faced. But beneath the bitterness, a new determination took root—a resolve not only to reclaim what was his, but to expand his influence.

Minutes later, Androxis came into view. The sun was already painting the horizon with strokes of pale gold and lavender. Sunrise was not far away; soon, its first rays would chase away the deep blues and purples of the night. The air grew warmer, and the dew on the grass began to sparkle like scattered diamonds under the pre-dawn light.

His drone descended toward the north gate, where a group of figures were waiting, their forms silhouetted against the emerging dawn. The hum of the drone's engine quieted as it hovered over the wet grass, the sound barely a whisper against the waking world.

"I see you cut it close," he said. His voice cut through the early morning stillness as he looked east, where the horizon was lightening. The colors intensified—a silent promise of the day to come. A strange sense of calm settled over him, providing a temporary reprieve from the rage that had fueled his earlier actions.

"The night is ending faster than we thought, but we made it," Anax said, her gaze fixed on the ground. Her shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of the night's events was beginning to press down on her, and the exhaustion in her voice was palpable. She shifted her weight, the wet grass squelching beneath her boots.

"We just have to wait for the last straggler to arrive," Searanox said, dismounting his drone. It dissolved in a shower of blue sparks that briefly illuminated his face in an ethereal glow before fading. "You behave yourselves inside the city," he added. His tone was a mixture of command and warning, his eyes scanning each of them, making it clear that any deviation from his instructions would not be tolerated.

Kandora struggled on Gron's shoulders, her movements frantic as the moments passed. "Put me down already, you big oaf," she demanded, her voice laced with frustration and a hint of desperation. Gron's grip tightened, his knuckles white as he held her steady. His expression was a mask of stoic obedience, but the tension in his jaw betrayed the effort it took to keep her subdued.

"It's alright, you can set her down now. I don't want us to draw more of a commotion inside than we already will." Searanox nodded toward Gron, who set her on the ground without another word.

Kandora stumbled as her feet touched the wet stone, her knees nearly buckling under her own weight. She quickly regained her balance, her eyes flashing with defiance as she adjusted her clothing—a small act to reclaim her dignity in front of the others.

Moments later, the final person arrived. Approaching slowly from the western gate, a lone figure walked with measured, deliberate steps. The six of them turned toward her.

Kandora sneered, her lips curling into a contemptuous smile. "Filthy half-breed. To betray the Empire even after Latrum took you in," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. The words hung in the air like a challenge, but the newcomer remained unfazed.

Kylith ignored her, not even glancing her way as she walked toward Searanox. The pre-dawn light caught the small curved horns on her head, making them gleam faintly. Her amber eyes held a depth of emotion that was both captivating and unsettling. She moved with a fluid grace that seemed out of place in the tense atmosphere, her steps silent on the damp earth.

"He will never take you back in after what you just did," Kandora said in a low voice, her eyes narrowing as if trying to pierce Kylith's composure. The words were a final attempt to assert dominance, a desperate grasp at power in a situation where she had none. But they fell flat, lost in the vast expanse of the morning sky and the unyielding presence of Searanox, who stood between them like a statue.

"She is with me," Searanox said, his voice cutting through the pre-dawn chill. He raised a gauntleted hand to silence Kandora before she could spit another word of venom.

The metallic gleam of his armor caught the faint light as he turned and walked toward the wall without a backward glance. The massive granite structure slid open with a low rumble that vibrated through the damp stone beneath their feet. The impossibly smooth surfaces ground against each other with unnatural precision that defied the laws of physics.

"Follow. And know that the rules of this city are absolute. Any attempt to flee, or any act of violence against a citizen, and your lives are forfeit." His words hung in the air like death sentences—cold and final.

As Kylith passed Kandora, their figures nearly brushing, she leaned in close. Her amber eyes fixed on the other woman's face as she whispered, "They are all dead."

The words were delivered with a chilling softness more terrifying than any scream could have been.

Kandora froze mid-step, her entire body rigid as if struck by lightning. The color drained from her face at an alarming rate, leaving her skin ashen in the growing light. A fellow noble, the others who had accompanied her on this mission—all gone. The implications of those four words crashed over her like a tidal wave of ice water. She turned toward Searanox's retreating back, her eyes wide with horror as realization made her features appear gaunt and haunted.

"You... you killed them all?" Her voice was a mere whisper, fragile and barely audible above the grinding of the massive stone gate. Yet it carried the weight of her entire world shattering around her.

Searanox stopped at the threshold of the city. The black walls rose like cliffs around them, blocking out the approaching dawn. He turned slowly, his expression unreadable in the dim light that struggled to pierce the artificial gloom of his fortress. The distant sounds of the waking city faded into an unnerving silence as he spoke.

"They surrendered. They begged me to stop their suffering. Death is the ultimate cessation of pain."

The clinical detachment in his tone was more unsettling than any display of anger or cruelty could have been. With that, he turned and walked into the dark maw that had opened up in the high walls of the city, leaving them to follow.