Chapter 659: I’m going to Rakan
Strax laughed as if he were witnessing the greatest comedy ever staged, his golden eyes shining with malice and mockery. The table beside him shook with the impact of his hand hitting the bar, the sound reverberating through the bar like suppressed thunder.
“Hahaha…” He leaned forward, still laughing, baring his teeth like a bored predator who had just found some amusement. “So this Rakan, the ‘Monarch of Beasts,’ is nothing more than the Emperor’s golden-collared lapdog?”
Agnes didn’t answer immediately. Her face remained impassive, but there was fire in her eyes, a pent-up rage that seemed to reignite just by hearing Rakan’s name mixed with Strax’s laughter.
“You don’t understand,” she growled softly, leaning her elbows on the table. “Rakan may be a tamed monster, but he’s still a monster. He earned that title by crushing entire clans, tearing kingdoms apart like toys.” As he advanced, the cities were wiped off the map.
Strax tilted his head, still smiling, but his expression changing from mockery to something more… interested.
“Hm.” He swirled the mug in his hands, studying the dark liquid. “And yet, he bows to another man. An Emperor.” The smile returned, cold and full of contempt. “Do you know what I see, Agnes? I see a strong beast… but chained. A dog that has learned to sit and be fed bones.”
The bar fell silent. Even the innkeeper dropped his pretense, swallowing hard at the mockery.
Agnes clenched her fists on the table, her knuckles turning white. “You speak lightly because you’ve never stood before him. You don’t know what it means to look Rakan in the eye. He’s not just strength. He’s… something more.” Strax arched his eyebrows, curious as a child, and leaned in even closer, his golden eyes glowing like burning flames.
“Something else?” he repeated, almost amused. “Better than strength? Hahaha… now you’ve captured my interest.”
He took another long sip from his mug and slammed it down on the counter, making the wood vibrate.
“Go on, Agnes Lykos.” His voice was drawled, expectant. “Tell me all about this crowned dog. How he trapped you. How he got this ‘strength that isn’t just strength.’ And, most importantly…” His smile widened predatorily. “Tell me how I’m going to rip his head off.”
Agnes stared at him with those eyes that mingled fury and contempt, as if she were assessing whether Strax was simply insane or suicidal. Her voice sounded firm, cutting:
“Are you crazy?”
Strax rested his chin on his hand, his fingers drumming on the table, and let out a short, low laugh, as if he’d just heard a compliment.
“Crazy?” he repeated, savoring the word. “No, Agnes. Crazy is bowing to someone just because they shout louder. Crazy is calling a dog with someone else’s collar ‘monarch.'”
He leaned in even closer, the proximity making the tension between them almost palpable. His golden eyes reflected the fire from the bar’s lamps, and there was something wild in that glow.
“I’m not crazy. I’m free.”
Agnes closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, as if trying to find patience somewhere within herself. When she opened them again, there was a different weight in her expression.
“You speak as if it were simple.” Her voice was lowered, almost a whisper, but thick with resentment. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.” You don’t know how he trapped me, how he forced me to be what I never wanted.
Strax raised an eyebrow, his laughter fading to a more serious look—serious, but still hungry for details.
“Then tell me,” he said, dragging out each syllable. “I want to hear how the great Rakan, the ‘Monarch of Beasts,’ needed chains, threats, or tricks to keep you by his side.”
Agnes bit her lip, looking away at her empty mug. She seemed to weigh each word before letting it slip, as if each memory were a blow to her chest.
“He didn’t need tricks,” she murmured finally. “He only needed what he is: a predator. Once he sets his sights on something, whether it’s a kingdom, a clan, or a person… it no longer belongs to him.”
She pressed her fingers against the wood of the table, and the crack echoed through the silent bar.
“I was part of a clan. A clan that resisted him to its last breath. But we were crushed. I saw the bodies of my brothers and sisters fed to his beasts. I saw the heads of my elders hung like trophies on the walls.” Her eyes burned now, but it wasn’t tears—it was fire. “And then, he chose me. Not as a prisoner. Not as a slave. He chose me as ‘queen.'”
Strax inclined his head, an almost respectful smile playing on his lips.
“So he’s not only a monster… but he also has refined taste.”
Agnes slammed her fist on the table, making the glass tremble, anger boiling in every muscle.
“Don’t provoke me, demon.”
Strax didn’t back down. Instead, he laughed, soft and provocative.
“I’m not provoking you.” His voice lowered, almost seductive in its intensity. “I understand.”
He straightened in his chair, crossing his arms.
“A monster who takes whatever he desires. An emperor who hands out titles like bones to dogs. And a woman who fled this throne of beasts, bringing with her enough hatred to set a continent ablaze.”
Strax leaned forward once more, more serious this time, though the smile never left his lips.
“Agnes Lykos…” he murmured. “You just gave me a gift.”
Agnes frowned, confused. “Gift?”
Strax spread his arms, as if proclaiming something to fate itself.
“I was bored. But now…” he laughed, low and dangerous. “Now I have a goal.”
The silence in the bar grew suffocating. The few survivors present looked away, afraid to even hear this conversation.
Agnes, still staring at him, asked in a deep voice:
“What do you intend to do?”
Strax let his smile fade into something darker, a glint of promise in his golden eyes.
“I’m going to this Rakan,” he said firmly. “And I’m just going to take everything for myself, after all, that’s how I work…”
“A dragon with the title of Beast Monarch is actually quite nice…”