The journey back to Portentia was a slow, weary march. They were all drained, physically and magically. The victory at the Sunken Temple felt less like a triumph and more like they had barely survived a natural disaster of their own making.
Nox was quiet, his mind replaying the Administrator's message. 'A third Royal Flag. A dragon.' He knew it was a breadcrumb, a deliberate nudge from the game's puppet masters to push the narrative forward. But it was a breadcrumb he couldn't ignore. The power of a Royal Flag was too great a prize to leave on the table.
They arrived back at their city to find it in a state of quiet, tense readiness. Vexia had received their report via a magical sending and had prepared for the inevitable fallout. The walls were manned, the soldiers were armed, and the air was thick with anticipation.
"Olympus will not let this insult stand," Vexia stated as they gathered in the throne room. "Zeus will retaliate. It is only a matter of when and how."
