Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives

Warlock Ch 379. General Lysandra of Dragon Tribe

"General Lysandra," Damian greeted, his voice steady. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Lysandra's gaze settled on him, her expression unreadable. "Warlock," she replied, her tone cool and measured. "We need to talk."

Damian gestured to a chair opposite him. "Please, have a seat."

She remained standing for a moment longer before acquiescing, the metal of her armor barely making a sound as she moved. The room's atmosphere grew taut.

"I assume this isn't a social visit," Damian began, leaning forward slightly.

Lysandra's eyes narrowed. "No, it isn't. The recent... disturbances involving the senators have drawn our attention. Your involvement is evident."

Damian interjected, his voice light but edged. "Disturbances are a mild way to put it."

"The dragon tribe does not take kindly to political upheavals that threaten the balance. We need to understand your intentions."

Damian leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Intentions? We just want to live. Peacefully."

Lysandra's eyes narrowed, her scrutiny pressing down on him. "Peacefully?" She let the word hang in the air. "Then explain the recent disturbances. The assassinations. The political unrest."

Damian met her gaze evenly. "Those events have nothing to do with me."

She tilted her head slightly, as if weighing his words. "Perhaps. But your presence at the S-rank examination ties you to these events. You were a witness."

He nodded slowly. "I was there. I saw what happened. But I was also a victim."

Lysandra's expression remained unreadable. "I've also learned that Princess Selena is here, under your protection. I spoke with Prince Cedric, and he confirmed as much."

Damian's jaw tightened at the mention of Cedric. "Selena is here of her own volition. She sought refuge."

Lysandra's gaze softened just a fraction. "Refuge from what?"

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "From the constraints of her position. From expectations she no longer wishes to fulfill."

She studied him for a long moment before speaking. "You understand the implications of harboring her? The political ramifications?"

Damian exhaled slowly. "I do. But my priority is her safety and well-being."

Lysandra leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "The dragon tribe values balance above all else. Disruptions, especially those involving high-ranking individuals, can lead to chaos."

He nodded. "I respect that. But sometimes, to maintain balance, one must take a stand."

She sighed, a rare sign of frustration. "You are stubborn."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Damian's lips. "Thanks."

Lysandra's lips twitched, almost forming a smile before she caught herself. "Be that as it may, I need assurances. The dragon tribe cannot afford unforeseen conflicts."

Damian's expression grew serious. "I can assure you, our goal isn't to incite conflict. We seek peace, but we won't shy away from defending ourselves if necessary."

She nodded slowly. "Very well. But know this: anything that threatens the balance, we will intervene."

Damian leaned back, studying Lysandra.

"I never pegged dragons as the meddling type," Damian said, breaking the silence.

Lysandra's lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. "We have our own concerns and objectives."

He arched an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

She hesitated, then said, "We've detected a powerful anomaly emanating from this city."

"Anomaly?" Damian's mind raced through possibilities. "You think it's me?"

Lysandra shook her head. "No. It's not a person. It's... a thing."

He frowned. "And you believe I have information about it?"

"Perhaps," she said, her gaze unwavering. "At the very least, I need your assurance that our goals align."

Damian exhaled slowly. "For your information, I'm not exactly on the council's Christmas card list. I don't trust them."

A flicker of amusement crossed Lysandra's face. "We share that sentiment."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So, what's your play here? You want me to keep an eye out for this... thing?"

"Information is power," she replied. "And right now, power is in short supply."

Damian nodded thoughtfully. "Fair point. But why approach me? Surely there are others more... cooperative."

Lysandra's expression darkened. "The other witness is dead. That leaves you and Princess Selena."

His eyes narrowed. "You're well-informed."

She inclined her head. "It's my business to be."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken implications.

Finally, Damian broke it. "Look, I get it. You want to maintain balance. But if you're asking me to pick sides—"

"I'm asking you to be vigilant," Lysandra interrupted. "To recognize that some forces are greater threats than petty human politics."

He studied her for a long moment. "Alright. If I come across anything... anomalous, you'll be the first to know."

A genuine smile touched her lips. "That's all I ask."

She stood, her movements fluid and graceful. "Until we meet again, Warlock."

Damian watched as she departed, her presence leaving a palpable void in the room. He rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of yet another complication settling on his shoulders.

"Great," he muttered to himself. "As if things weren't complicated enough."

He glanced toward the window, the city sprawled out before him, oblivious to the undercurrents of power shifting beneath its surface. With a resigned sigh, Damian stood and prepared himself for the storm he sensed was coming.

As he turned to rejoin the others, a subtle shift in his shadow servants alerted him to another presence approaching the manor.

"Right... Prince Cedric. Of course," Damian muttered to himself, rubbing his temples. The day was proving to be more eventful than he'd anticipated.

Steeling himself, he made his way back to the living room, arriving just as the doors opened to reveal Prince Cedric. The prince's usual composed demeanor was overshadowed by evident concern, his eyes scanning the room anxiously.

"Warlock," Cedric began, his voice tight, "I need to see Selena. Is she safe?"

Damian nodded, gesturing toward a nearby chair. "She's fine, Cedric. Please, have a seat."

Cedric hesitated for a moment before complying, his posture rigid. "I heard about the assassinations," he said, running a hand through his hair. "And I just saw a dragoness leaving this place. What's going on?"