The hall felt different now.
Not because anything had changed—but because something had settled.
Valer stood near one of the pillars, silent and alert, eyes lowered but senses stretched outward. Lyenne remained close to the couch, staff resting in both hands, her gaze occasionally flicking toward Kael as if afraid to look for too long. Brun had already begun pacing the edges of the hall, tapping stone with his knuckles, muttering to himself.
"This material…" he whispered. "It's not stone. It's not metal either."
Kael watched him for a moment, then shrugged.
"If it's uncomfortable, we can change it," he said casually.
Brun froze.
Slowly, he turned around.
"Change it," he repeated.
Kael nodded. "Yeah. I can make other stuff. Wood, maybe."
Brun opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to laughter.
Before he could say anything, the air shifted again.
This time, it wasn't curiosity.
It was precision.
---
In a realm built of obsidian towers and glowing sigils, a figure paused mid-step.
Mirex of the Nine Seals—Demon Lord of Contracts—felt it instantly.
A pull.
Not forceful.
Not violent.
Intentional.
"…Interesting," Mirex murmured.
Around him, infernal scribes froze, quills hovering above burning parchment.
The pull tightened.
Mirex smiled faintly.
"Cancel my meetings," he said. "Something rare just called my name."
The world folded.
---
Mirex appeared standing upright in the great hall.
Unlike the others, he did not stumble.
He adjusted his gloves calmly, crimson eyes scanning the space with sharp, calculating focus.
The moment his senses touched the air, his expression changed.
The laws here were… complete.
Not enforced.
Absolute.
Mirex's smile widened slightly.
He turned toward the couch.
Toward Kael.
And then—
He stopped smiling.
There was no deception in the man.
No ambition.
No hunger.
And yet, the contracts etched into Mirex's soul—agreements older than gods—were trembling.
That alone was enough.
Mirex took one step forward.
The space rejected it.
Not violently.
Firmly.
Like a door that simply would not open.
Mirex inhaled slowly.
Then knelt.
Perfectly. Smoothly.
"Mirex," he said. "Keeper of Infernal Law. I request permission to exist within your domain."
Kael nearly choked on his drink.
"Request permission to… what?"
Lyenne's grip tightened on her staff.
Valer's eyes sharpened.
Brun stopped pacing.
Mirex kept his head bowed.
"This place," he said carefully, "does not allow assumption. Only consent."
Kael stared.
"…Okay," he said after a moment. "You can stay."
The air pulsed.
A rule was written.
Mirex felt it settle into his bones.
His breath hitched.
So casually, he thought.
Kael squinted. "You look like you do paperwork."
Mirex blinked.
"…I manage contracts."
"Perfect," Kael said. "I hate paperwork."
Brun snorted.
Mirex bowed his head lower. "I will ensure your rules are… absolute."
---
The temperature dropped.
Not cold.
Heavy.
Valer straightened instantly.
Lyenne's eyes widened.
Brun muttered, "Ah. That one."
High above, the ceiling cracked.
Not shattered—opened.
Golden scales slid into view, each one the size of a house. Ancient eyes burned like suns as a colossal head pushed through the opening.
A Dragon.
Not a lesser one.
An Ancient Sovereign.
Its voice rolled through the hall like thunder.
"Who dares summon within my—"
The dragon stopped.
Its pupils contracted.
It felt it.
The rule.
No hostility.
No dominance.
No testing.
The dragon snarled, flames leaking between its teeth.
"I am Korrath," it roared. "I bow to no—"
It tried to advance.
The space refused.
The dragon pushed harder.
Pain lanced through its skull.
Not punishment.
Correction.
Korrath recoiled with a roar, slamming its head into the floor.
Silence followed.
Slowly, impossibly, the dragon lowered its massive head.
"…I acknowledge," Korrath growled. "The law of this place."
Kael stared upward, eyes wide.
"…Are you stuck?"
Korrath froze.
Brun covered his mouth.
Valer closed his eyes.
Mirex felt something inside him break.
"No," Korrath said carefully. "I am… restrained."
"Oh," Kael said. "That's fine. Just don't break anything."
The dragon lowered its head further.
"…Understood."
---
Kael looked around.
"So," he said, counting on his fingers, "vampire, elf, dwarf, demon, dragon…"
He nodded, satisfied.
"That should be enough to build a quiet city."
Silence answered him.
Then Brun laughed.
Lyenne trembled.
Valer bowed.
Mirex smiled.
And Korrath, Ancient Sovereign Dragon, remained very still.
---
Far away, the System observed.
It did not speak.
It could not.
Because for the first time, it understood something terrifying:
This host would never leave.
And the world would come to him instead.