Reborn as the Last van Ambrose

"My lord," one of the court members stepped forward—a sleek female dragon whose scales held hints of blue and gold. "Perhaps we should focus on the immediate crisis rather than past grievances."

"Past grievances?" Ao Qin’s voice rose dangerously. "Shen Yue, my realm lies in ruins, my people are dead or corrupted, and you speak of past grievances?"

"I speak of survival," Shen Yue replied, her tone carefully respectful but firm. "And of the need to work with our allies rather than driving them away with displays of temper."

"Allies?" Another court member spoke up—an older dragon whose scales were scarred from many battles. "Where were our allies when the attack began? Where was the great cooperation between realms that we’ve heard so much about?"

"General Feng," Lin interjected, recognizing the political trap that was opening, "the attacks on all realms were coordinated. No one could have—"

"Could have what?" General Feng’s voice carried barely controlled anger. "Could have bothered to send warning? Could have offered mutual defense pacts that actually meant something? The North Sea’s isolation has always served its interests first."

"That’s not fair," Grim said, stepping forward despite the dangerous political waters. "We came here as soon as we could. We’re trying to stop—"

"You’re trying to clean up a mess that your policies helped create," General Feng shot back. "If the realms had maintained proper military coordination instead of this diplomatic nonsense, Jiaolong never could have moved so freely between them."

"Enough!" Ao Qin’s roar silenced the growing argument, but Grim could see the effort it cost him. The Dragon King slumped back into his healing pool, his breathing labored. "We have more immediate concerns than assigning blame."