Chapter 150: The King’s Table
The second day of the King-Maker scenario dawned on a city transformed. The plaza was no longer a chaotic mess of barricades; it was an armed camp. Vexia’s runes glowed on the pavement, and Elisa’s newly-equipped soldiers patrolled the perimeter with a grim, newfound confidence.
Nox stood on the courthouse balcony, his new armor a silent, imposing presence. He watched his kingdom work, a quiet satisfaction settling in his gut.
’This is better,’ he thought. ’Organized. Efficient.’
A knock came from the door behind him. "Enter."
Serian walked in, carrying a simple wooden tray. On it were two steaming mugs. "I thought you might want some of this. It’s not coffee, but Vexia found some herbs that have a similar effect."
She walked over and stood beside him, handing him a mug. The warmth seeped into his gauntleted hands. "Thank you."
They stood in silence for a moment, watching the sunrise.
"You have changed them," she said quietly. "These players. Yesterday, they were a mob. Today, they are an army."
"They’re tools," he said, his voice slightly muffled by his helm. "I’m just sharpening them."
"Is that all they are to you? Tools?" She looked at him, her expression searching. "Is that all I am to you, Nox? A tool?"
He turned to look at her. He could see the hurt in her eyes, the question she was really asking. ’Are we just pieces in your game?’
He thought about it. The old him would have said yes. It was the logical, efficient answer. But something had shifted.