Chapter 939: Restlessness
Strax remained looking east for a few seconds, as if he could see through the snow, the walls of Asgard, the distant forests, and all the lands that separated his city from Aelyra’s former domain.
The horizon was quiet.
Too quiet.
Aelyra had been removed, the Heavenly Emperor was trying to pretend he controlled the situation, the lesser nobles of the East were probably locked in their halls counting soldiers, gold, and survival options, and the ports would begin looking for new protectors before the ink on the imperial sentence even dried. For any other ruler, that would be a distant crisis. For Strax, it was an open door.
Yennifer was still hugging him from behind, leaning against his back with an almost mocking tranquility. She could feel the tension in his body, the quiet rigidity left behind when anger no longer had an immediate target, but still had not found where to rest. Vex had left safely. Mercedes would take the girl back to the North. Aelyra was imprisoned. The Emperor had retreated.
Even so, Strax did not seem satisfied.
"Tell Monica to watch the East," he finally said.
Yennifer slightly raised her face.
"Watch how?"
"Routes, ports, garrisons, lesser nobles, agricultural production, mines, debts, influential families, popular loyalty, everything."
She smiled against his shoulder.
"So watch the Monica way."
"Exactly."
"That means she is going to turn half the East into a spreadsheet before dinner."
"Probably."
"She will like it."
"I know."
Strax then breathed slowly, his eyes still fixed in the distant direction of the territory that had once belonged to the Monarch of Stormy Tides.
"And tell her to evaluate whether it is worth invading and taking Aelyra’s lands."
Yennifer was silent for an instant.
Not from complete surprise, because that possibility had already been in the air since Aelyra was dragged from her own castle. But hearing Strax say it out loud turned the idea into something much more concrete. It was no longer merely a political advantage appearing after a punishment. It was a possible campaign.
"Officially invade?"
"If it is worth it."
"Take it as Asgard’s territory?"
"If it is worth it."
"And if it is not worth it?"
Strax shrugged.
"Then we let the Emperor bleed resources trying to keep it stable."
Yennifer let out a low laugh.
"You are starting to talk like Monica."
"That is offensive."
"To you or to her?"
"To my peace."
She laughed again, but soon became more serious.
"You know the Emperor may interpret this as aggressive expansion."
"He will interpret anything I do as aggressive expansion."
"That is also true."
"If I stay still, they will say I am waiting for an opportunity. If I move troops, they will say I am a conqueror. If I sign trade agreements, they will say I am buying influence. So I prefer to do what is most useful for Asgard and let them choose the name afterward."
Yennifer moved away a little, just enough to walk around him and face him from the front. The smile was still there, but her eyes observed every detail of his face.
"And what do you consider useful?"
"Security."
"The Eastern territory is far."
"Ports are not."
She understood immediately.
Aelyra’s former domain was not merely land. It was sea, trade, naval access, routes to archipelagos, fisheries, shipyards, docks, coastal bases, and influence over merchants who crossed dangerous waters. Asgard was growing by land, by railway, by industry, and by internal pacts. The East could open another dimension of power.
"You want a strong maritime outlet."
"I want options."
"You always want options."
"Options keep someone from putting a chain on you."
Yennifer studied his face for a few more seconds.
"And if Monica says it is worth it?"
Strax looked at her.
"Then we take it."
The answer came too simply.
Without exaggerated arrogance.
Without an inflamed speech.
Only a conclusion.
Yennifer felt a pleasant shiver climb the back of her neck. It was not fear. She was far too used to his brutality for that. It was more like watching a gigantic gear begin to move, slow at first, but inevitable once it gained force.
"And if the Emperor complains?"
"He just offered me the title of Monarch of that territory."
"To control you."
"But he offered."
She opened a wider smile.
"You are going to use the letter you burned as an argument?"
"I do not need the letter. I only need the fact."
"That is very dirty."
"It is politics."
"Monica definitely contaminated you."
Strax finally smiled.
"Warn her before she comes to tell me that personally."
Yennifer nodded, but did not move immediately. She realized there was something else there, something that did not fit completely into the conversation about the East, Aelyra, or the Emperor. Strax was speaking of strategy, but his attention seemed caught somewhere else. Not on the eastern horizon. Not exactly.
Perhaps in the north.
Perhaps in the sky where Vex had disappeared.
"What are you going to do now?" she asked.
Strax did not answer immediately.
The courtyard remained covered by thin snow, with the marks of Mercedes’s wyvern already almost erased. The city around them breathed with its distant sounds, factories, wheels, voices, metal, and steam, but there, in that part of the mansion, there was an uncomfortable quiet. Strax raised his gaze to the gray sky.
"I am going to train a little."
Yennifer tilted her head.
"Now?"
"Yes."
"You just said goodbye to your daughter, threatened to invade the East, and burned an imperial letter. I thought you were going to rest."
"I am restless."
The word came out low.
But honest.
Yennifer crossed her arms.
"Restless or worried?"
Strax was silent.
She smiled.
"I understand."
"Do not start."
"I did not say anything."
"Your face did."
"My face is very expressive."
"Unfortunately."
Yennifer approached again and touched his chest with the tips of her fingers.
"She is with Mercedes."
"I know."
"The North is safe."
"I know."
"And after what happened, no one on the continent is going to try to touch that girl for a good while."
"I know."
"Then?"
Strax turned his gaze to the sky again.
"She was still in a box."
Yennifer went quiet.
The sentence did not come with anger.
It came with memory.
Worse.
Strax slowly closed his right hand, and for an instant, small particles of Black Ice appeared between his fingers before vanishing. Aelyra was punished. The kidnappers were dead. The Emperor had retreated. But none of those things erased the moment when he looked back and saw the bag of sweets fallen in the snow.
"Does training help?" Yennifer asked.
"It helps me not break things I do not need to break."
"That is progress."
"Do not abuse it."
She smiled, but there was a different softness in the gesture.
"Want company?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Yennifer raised her hands in surrender.
"As you wish. I will inform Monica about the East."
"Tell her not to move anything yet."
"Observe, calculate, evaluate, and probably manipulate three noble houses before lunch. Understood."
"Yennifer."
"Fine. Only observe."
Strax looked at her.
She maintained an innocent expression for two seconds.
"With Monica, observing already includes discreet manipulation."
"I know."
"Then do not blame me later."
"I will blame both of you."
"Fair."
Yennifer took a step back, and the shadows began to move around her feet. Before disappearing completely, she looked at him one last time.
"Strax."
"Hm?"
"Do not train as if you are trying to kill the sky."
He looked at her.
"I make no promises."
"I knew you would say that."
The shadow swallowed her body, and Yennifer vanished without leaving a sound, only a small distortion in the cold air of the courtyard.
Strax remained alone.
For a few seconds, he did not move.
Then he turned toward the personal training area behind the mansion.
The path there was short, but each step seemed to remove a layer of the expression he had worn in front of Vex. The softness of the farewell disappeared. The humor used with Yennifer withdrew. The political calculation was left for later. What remained was only an internal pressure that needed to come out before it rotted inside him.
When he reached the arena, the magical heating system was still active. Snow melted as soon as it touched the floor, rising in thin streams of steam around the reinforced plates. The marks from Vex’s training had already been cleaned, but Strax could still remember exactly where she had created the first stable drop, where she had almost stumbled from excitement, and where she had raised that little point of ice as if holding a true star.
He stopped at the center.
Took a deep breath.
The air trembled.
White Fire appeared first in his left hand, silent, pure, and terribly hot, but without spreading unnecessary heat. Soon after, Black Ice was born in his right hand, dark, deep, and so cold it seemed to drain the color from the space around it. The two energies spun slowly, opposite, incompatible, violent even when obedient.
Strax looked at them.
"Control," he murmured.
The word echoed in the empty arena.
Power was not what he lacked.
It never had been.
The problem was that power, when it grew too much without direction, began to feel like hunger. He knew that hunger. He had felt it since before Asgard, before the titles he refused, before the recent wars, before he even understood how many eyes were turned toward the planet’s core. Every defeated enemy taught him he needed to be stronger. Every revealed threat demanded another step. Every person protected increased the fear of not being enough.
And now there was Vex.
A child who made crooked ice drops and slept clutching his shirt.
Strax closed his eyes.
White Fire advanced.
Black Ice answered.
The two forces collided between his hands.
The entire arena trembled.
The runic pillars lit up immediately, forming a barrier around the field. Steam rose in thick waves. The stone beneath his feet groaned. Strax kept his arms firm, forcing the two energies to spin around each other without devouring each other completely.
For an instant, he almost succeeded.
At the center of the collision, a small point of light appeared.
White at the edges.
Black at the core.
Like the energy that had destroyed the barriers of Aelyra’s castle.
But smaller.
Much smaller.
Controlled.
Then the instability came.
The point distorted, grew too quickly, and almost exploded.
Strax immediately closed his hands, crushing his own magic before the barrier needed to withstand the impact. The floor cracked beneath his feet, but the arena remained whole.
He released the air slowly.
"Again."
On the distant balcony of the mansion, a figure watched.
It was not Mercedes.
It was not Vex.
It was Monica.
She held a clipboard in one hand and wore a dark coat over her shoulders. Yennifer stood beside her, partially leaning against the wall, with a light smile on her lips.
"He told you to observe the East," Yennifer said.
Monica kept her eyes on Strax.
"I heard."
"You were already listening?"
"Yes."
"That is rude."
"That is efficient."
Yennifer laughed.
Monica finally shifted her gaze from the arena and looked toward the east for a few seconds.
"I will need coastal maps, port records, debts of the noble houses, and naval production reports."
"So is it worth it?"
"I do not know yet."
"But?"
Monica looked back at Strax, who had just gathered White Fire and Black Ice for the second time.
"But if the territory is as vulnerable as it seems, it would be irresponsible not to consider it."
"That is a yes in Monica language."
"It is a maybe with a budget."
Yennifer sighed.
"Terrifying."
"Thank you."
In the arena, Strax joined the two energies once again.
The collision was smaller.
More stable.
For half a second, the dark and white point remained suspended between his hands without trying to explode.
Then it dissolved into silent particles.
Strax opened his eyes.
He did not smile.
But the restlessness diminished a little.
Only a little.
Enough to try again.
Comments