Ivanova no longer felt like a kingdom holding itself together.
It felt like a structure waiting for impact.
The outer city had already collapsed into Draco control, its streets now under disciplined occupation rather than chaos.
The palace district had followed slowly, not in a single fall, but in controlled erosion—each defensive layer withdrawn under pressure, each resistance point sealed or broken in sequence.
What remained was the inner palace.
And it was no longer safe because it was strong.
It was safe because it had not yet been touched.
That difference was beginning to disappear.
---
Inside the war chamber, King Ivan stood before the map table again, though there was little left to analyze. The layers of colored markers had shifted until only one remained dominant: Draco containment lines tightening around the palace perimeter.
