The imperial hall of the Draco Kingdom stood as it always had—
Grand. Unshaken. Eternal.
Black obsidian pillars rose like unmoving sentinels, etched with ancient draconic runes that glowed faintly under the dim golden light. The air itself felt heavy, as if even time moved slower within these walls.
At the far end of the hall…
The throne remained empty.
No one sat upon it.
No one dared to.
A long table stretched across the chamber, occupied by ministers, high officials, and generals—each bearing the unmistakable presence of draconic blood.
Eyes sharp. Auras restrained. Power… contained.
And yet—
Today, there was something else.
Unease.
"It has been nine years."
The voice that broke the silence was deep, controlled, and carried authority without effort.
General Raizen.
The highest-ranking commander of the Draco military.
His sharp golden eyes swept across the room.
"Nine years since Her Majesty vanished."
No one interrupted.
No one corrected him.
Because no one could.
A minister adjusted his robes, his voice careful:
"General… with all due respect… we cannot continue like this forever."
Murmurs followed.
Low. Controlled.
But present.
Another official leaned forward.
"The throne cannot remain empty indefinitely. The people grow restless."
A pause.
Then—
A cold pressure filled the room.
Subtle.
But suffocating.
General Raizen's gaze shifted.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
"Restless?"
His voice didn't rise.
It didn't need to.
The man who spoke stiffened instantly.
Sweat formed at his temple.
"I… only meant—"
Raizen stood.
The sound of his armor was quiet.
But final.
"Say it clearly."
A step forward.
"You wish to replace her?"
Silence.
Absolute.
No one answered.
No one even breathed too loudly.
Finally, an older minister spoke, voice trembling slightly:
"It is not about replacement… it is about stability…"
Raizen's expression didn't change.
If anything—
It became calmer.
Which made it worse.
"Stability was never given by the throne."
A pause.
"It was given by her."
The words echoed.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Another general spoke, this one more composed:
"Then we must consider the possibility…"
A hesitation.
Even he felt it.
"…that Her Majesty may not return."
The temperature in the hall seemed to drop.
Raizen stopped.
For the first time—
There was a flicker in his eyes.
Not anger.
Not denial.
Something deeper.
But it vanished just as quickly.
"You are free to consider whatever you wish."
He turned slightly, looking toward the empty throne.
"But do not mistake your thoughts for reality."
A long silence followed.
Then—
Quietly—
he added:
"She lives."
No doubt.
No hesitation.
Just certainty.
The room shifted again.
Not with fear this time—
But with something else.
Faith.
A young official, unable to hold back, spoke:
"If that is true… then where is she?"
No answer came immediately.
Raizen's gaze lingered on the throne.
Unmoving.
Then—
"Where she chooses to be."
The answer only deepened the silence.
A different voice spoke up from the far end:
"Search parties have reported nothing. Not a single trace. It is as if…"
He hesitated.
Then finished it anyway.
"…as if she disappeared from the world itself."
Raizen's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Then expand the search."
"We already have—"
"Then expand it again."
His voice cut through the room.
Final.
"Across kingdoms. Across continents. Across dungeons if necessary."
A pause.
Then—
"Even if she wished to disappear…"
His gaze sharpened.
"She cannot erase what she is."
Silence.
Because everyone in that room understood what he meant.
The Draco Empress was not someone who could simply vanish.
She was:
Power.
Authority.
Existence itself.
And yet—
For nine years—
She had.
Raizen turned fully toward the throne.
For a brief moment…
His expression softened.
Almost imperceptibly.
"Until she returns…"
He spoke quietly.
"This throne remains hers."
No one objected.
No one dared.
Because deep down—
Every single person in that hall believed the same thing.
Not if.
But when.
The hall had emptied.
Footsteps faded.
Voices vanished.
Only silence remained.
General Raizen stood by the tall window, looking out over the frozen expanse of the Draco Kingdom.
Snow fell slowly.
Soft.
Endless.
To others, it would feel lifeless.
To them—
It was home.
His reflection stared back at him in the glass.
Unmoving.
Unshaken.
Footsteps approached from behind.
Careful.
Measured.
A minister.
One who had remained.
"General…"
Raizen didn't respond.
The man continued anyway.
"I still fail to understand…"
A pause.
"Why we continue to wait."
Silence.
Snow continued to fall.
"She was not… an ideal Empress."
The words hung in the air.
Dangerous.
Raizen's eyes shifted.
Just slightly.
The minister stepped closer, emboldened.
"She was too kind."
A breath.
"What this kingdom needs is strength. Someone who can lead us to greater heights…"
A small smile.
"…someone like you, Commander."
Silence.
Then—
Raizen moved.
In an instant, his hand was around the man's throat.
Lifting him off the ground.
Effortless.
The minister's eyes widened in pure shock.
His words died in his throat—
literally.
Raizen stepped closer.
His voice low.
Cold.
Controlled.
"Listen carefully."
The grip tightened.
"You've been breathing in this palace your entire life…"
A slight tilt of his head.
"Because I allowed it."
The minister struggled, hands clawing at Raizen's arm.
Air. Gone.
Guards rushed in.
"Commander—!"
"He'll die!"
"Sire, please—!"
Raizen didn't even look at them.
"Too kind… was she?"
His eyes burned now.
Not wild.
Not uncontrolled.
👉 Focused rage.
"That 'kindness' you mock…"
His grip tightened just a little more—
just enough.
"…is the only reason you're still alive."
A guard stepped forward desperately:
"Sir Raizen—Her Majesty—"
That word.
A flicker.
Raizen's hand loosened.
Just slightly.
Then—
He threw the minister.
The body crashed into a wooden table.
It shattered on impact.
Wood splintered across the floor.
The man collapsed, coughing violently, gasping for air.
Alive.
Barely.
Raizen turned away.
Already done.
"I gave her my word."
His voice returned to calm.
As if nothing had happened.
"I do not kill… unnecessarily."
Silence filled the room again.
But this time—
It was heavier.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Raizen walked past them.
Slow.
Composed.
Untouchable.
As he passed the broken man—
he didn't even look down.
And as he stepped back into the falling snow…
A thought crossed his mind.
Quiet.
Unspoken.
"…Darla…"
A pause.
"…where are you?"
Snow continued to fall.