The conference chamber remained trapped in silence long after the word dragons had been spoken.
The earlier warmth within the room had vanished entirely.
Now only flickering lanternlight illuminated pale noble faces while moonlight stretched across the polished darkwood table like frozen silver. Outside the towering windows, the Southern capital still glittered beautifully beneath the night sky, unaware that inside House Veil's upper chamber—
Old nightmares had resurfaced.
No one spoke immediately after Seraphine's tear fell.
Not because there was nothing to say.
But because everyone present understood the truth too well.
The South could rebuild.
The South could unify.
The South could become wealthier and stronger than ever before.
But if the dragons returned—
Everything would burn again.
The room had become emotionally raw now.
Several nobles stared silently toward the table.
Others avoided eye contact entirely.
Even Duke Altair's sharp military composure had darkened heavily beneath memory.
Then—
The chamber doors opened quietly.
Every gaze shifted instantly.
Landon entered first.
His formal black attire reflected faint silver beneath the lanternlight while his posture remained calm and controlled despite immediately sensing the atmosphere had changed.
Something happened.
Something heavy.
And behind him—
Kel followed silently.
Exactly two steps behind once more.
The moment Kel entered, Duchess Seraphine's pale eyes instinctively lifted toward him.
And strangely—
Her breathing steadied slightly.
Ridiculous.
Even after dragons were mentioned…
Even after old trauma resurfaced…
The mere sight of that calm man entering the chamber somehow made the room feel more stable.
Kel's eyes slowly swept across the nobles.
The tension.
The fear.
The lingering silence.
He understood immediately.
Sairen's voice echoed softly through the soul-link.
"…Something happened."
Kel answered internally.
"The past resurfaced."
Landon calmly returned to his seat near the center of the chamber.
The sound of the chair sliding softly against polished floor echoed through the silence.
Then—
Kel resumed his position behind him.
Silent.
Still.
Observing.
The chamber remained quiet several moments longer before Landon finally spoke calmly.
"…It seems the discussion became serious."
A faint attempt to soften the atmosphere.
But no one smiled.
Instead—
Duke Altair slowly leaned forward.
"We discussed the proposal thoroughly."
His deep voice carried heavy exhaustion now.
"And…"
A brief pause followed.
"…most present agree the structure is feasible."
Several nobles slowly nodded.
Though their expressions remained complicated.
Landon listened quietly.
Outwardly composed.
Yet inwardly—
Even he sensed something deeper lingering beneath the room's current mood.
Count Veridan adjusted his glasses slowly before speaking next.
"The Southern Council proposal…"
He exhaled quietly.
"…is ambitious."
A younger noble almost laughed bitterly.
"Ambitious?"
His eyes darkened.
"It borders madness."
Several nobles silently agreed.
Yet none rejected it anymore.
That itself spoke volumes.
A merchant Count folded his hands atop the table thoughtfully.
"If properly managed…"
A slight pause.
"…the council could stabilize Southern trade within years."
Another military noble added immediately afterward—
"And coordinated monster suppression alone would drastically reduce territorial losses."
Landon quietly listened to every response.
And behind him—
Kel remained motionless.
Like shadow wrapped in lanternlight.
Duke Altair's gaze briefly shifted toward Kel again before returning to Landon.
"However…"
The Duke's voice lowered slightly.
"…there remains one unresolved issue."
The atmosphere tightened immediately again.
Landon's eyes sharpened faintly.
"…The dragons."
Silence.
Heavy.
Oppressive.
Even hearing the word spoken openly again made several nobles visibly tense.
Landon finally understood.
That explained the atmosphere.
Behind him—
Kel's expression remained calm.
But internally—
His thoughts sharpened instantly.
So.
They reached that topic already.
Sairen's voice echoed softly.
"…Dragons."
Far away—
At Scarder Lake—
The silver mist around Sairen shifted subtly.
Even she understood the weight that name carried among humans.
Meanwhile—
Inside the chamber—
No one spoke immediately.
Until finally—
Duchess Seraphine quietly lifted her gaze.
The faint trace of the earlier tear still remained near one pale eye despite her attempts to compose herself again.
Yet even now—
She looked beautiful.
Fragile.
Human.
"We all know the truth."
Her voice remained soft now.
Far softer than earlier confidence.
"If the dragons descend again…"
A faint pause followed.
"…everything we build becomes meaningless."
The chamber fell silent once more.
Landon slowly leaned back within his chair.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Then—
A military Count suddenly spoke firmly.
"That is precisely why we must rebuild."
Several nobles looked toward him immediately.
The older Count's expression hardened.
"The South was weak back then."
His fists tightened slightly atop the table.
"Fragmented."
"Divided."
"Poorly coordinated."
A faint bitterness entered his voice.
"We survived separately."
A pause.
"…Barely."
The room quieted thoughtfully.
Because that—
Was also true.
During the dragon calamities, the South failed to unite properly.
Every territory defended itself alone.
Every noble protected only their own land.
And because of that—
Countless regions collapsed one after another.
The military Count's gaze sharpened.
"But if the South truly unifies resources this time…"
His voice lowered.
"…then perhaps things become different."
Several nobles visibly hesitated.
Because no one truly wanted to challenge dragons again.
Yet—
The logic itself wasn't wrong.
Duke Altair finally spoke once more.
"The council itself could eventually create coordinated defense systems."
Now several military nobles focused immediately.
"Shared fortifications."
Altair continued calmly.
"Emergency communication networks."
"Joint military responses."
"Centralized monster intelligence."
His sharp eyes narrowed slightly.
"Things we lacked before."
Count Veridan slowly nodded.
"And if trade expands…"
A brief pause.
"…military funding naturally increases as well."
The room gradually shifted again.
Not away from fear.
That fear remained deeply rooted.
But now—
The nobles had begun discussing survival rather than helplessness.
Behind Landon's chair—
Kel quietly observed everything.
Every emotional shift.
Every change in posture.
Every transition from fear…
Toward determination.
And inwardly—
A faint thought crossed his mind.
Good.
Because the South needed fear.
But not paralysis.
Meanwhile—
Seraphine's pale eyes slowly drifted toward Kel again.
And this time—
Something inside her steadied completely.
Because somehow—
That calm man standing silently beneath lanternlight looked entirely unshaken by the discussion of dragons.
Not careless.
Not dismissive.
Simply calm.
And strangely—
That calmness spread through the room subtly.
Even without him speaking.
Her chest tightened faintly again.
Dangerous man.
Duke Kael Draven finally looked toward Landon directly.
"Your proposal changes the South."
His exhausted gray eyes remained unreadable.
Then—
For the first time tonight—
He looked briefly toward Kel afterward.
"But understand this clearly."
The atmosphere sharpened instantly.
"If you truly intend to rebuild these territories…"
A brief pause followed.
"…then eventually you will stand before them."
No one needed clarification anymore.
The dragons.
The chamber fell silent again.
Lanternlight flickered softly against ancient walls while distant ballroom music drifted faintly upward through the mansion like echoes from another world.
And beneath all of it—
The South's future quietly stood balanced between fear…
And ambition.