Slowly, he leaned forward, his posture relaxed, as if he were telling Crimson something as simple as the weather forecast.
"Let’s be plain then, Prince Crimson," Antony said, his voice smooth and dripping with cold certainty. "Aropia has no choice but to be dealt with. Ren Canahy is making dangerous moves, and if we do nothing now, his arrogance will grow even further. "
The words hung in the air like the scent of a storm, and Crimson’s heart surged with bloodlust at the thought of a battle.
A war was exactly what he craved, what his pride demanded. The power, the glory, the crushing of a mere human nation—these were the things that would prove his strength and command.
Yet, even as his fangs flashed in a grin of anticipation, there was one lingering question in his mind: what charge could Drakonia use to justify such an attack?
His golden eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What charges do we use? What cause can we claim to make the war seem just?"
Antony’s eyes glinted with an almost predatory gleam, the corners of his mouth quirking upward in that mocking, yet confident, smile.
"Leave that to me," he said, voice smooth and filled with the weight of unspoken power. " You simply prepare for what’s to come. You sharpen your swords, rally your troops, and ready your armies. The rest will follow."
Crimson’s eyes flickered with a cold fire. He could feel the pulse of excitement in his veins, the taste of glory on the tip of his tongue. Ren Canahy’s insolence had opened the door. Now, Crimson could see it clearly—the path to dominance.
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His voice was a low, rumbling growl, filled with the power of his conviction. "Prepare for war then. Aropia will fall. Ren Canahy will regret the day he ever thought he could challenge the might of Drakonia."
His hands clenched into fists, the fire of ambition and vengeance burning bright within him. He would not let this opportunity slip through his claws.
Nevya, standing silently off to the side, felt the weight of the moment pressing down on her. The adrenaline in the room was intoxicating, the promise of war and bloodshed hanging heavy in the air.
Yet, as she watched her brother’s unrelenting determination, a quiet dread crept into her heart. She knew Crimson’s thirst for vengeance would not be satisfied easily. War with Aropia would not be a simple conquest, and the risks were high. But there was little she could do to sway him now.
She glanced over at Antony, who stood by, watching the exchange unfold with a smile that almost seemed to enjoy the tension.
‘This man’, she thought, her lips pressing into a thin line. He was the master of manipulation.
Yet, despite the unease swirling in her mind, Nevya kept her thoughts to herself. She could only watch as the plans for war began to take shape, and the inevitable clash between Drakonia and Aropia loomed ever closer.
The challenge had been thrown down, and now, the world would watch as Drakonia, under the leadership of Prince Crimson, marched toward war.
Antony’s voice cut through the silence again, soft but filled with dark promise. "And when the war begins, ... make sure you claim victory."
The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of what was to come.
Crimson grinned, sharp and predatory. "Go back to your home , and flee with your family."