My Infinite System.

The monster council chamber pulsed with heat.

Torches burned against the walls, shadows writhing like restless beasts. A massive table of obsidian stretched across the center, carved with claw marks from centuries of arguments. Around it sat the lords of the monster nation—scaled, horned, furred, armored. Each carried the weight of their people, and each burned with the same unease.

The air was thick with anger.

”The settlements are gone!” roared Gorath, a giant bear-like beast whose fur smoked from the heat of his body. His claws scraped deep gouges into the table. ”Hundreds of our kin wiped away like insects, and still we sit here, gnashing words instead of tearing throats!”

”Whose throats, Gorath?” hissed Malrix, the serpent lord, his body coiled across his chair, golden eyes flashing. ”We don’t even know who the enemy is.”

”You lie,” another voice snapped. It came from Drezar, a winged drake with jagged scars running across his chest. He leaned forward, eyes blazing. ”Your serpents live close to the human borders. How convenient that these barrages started there.”

Malrix’s coils tightened. ”You dare accuse me?” His tongue flicked, voice dripping venom. ”Perhaps it was your brood, drake. Always sniffing after scraps the hunters leave behind. Perhaps you sold us for survival.”

The chamber erupted. Fists slammed, wings beat, voices overlapped in a storm of accusations.

Gorath rose to his full height, towering over them all. ”Enough!”

The word silenced the chamber, but only for a breath. From the shadows near the far end, a slim figure stood. Lady Varna, the horned witch of the west. Her black robes swayed as her sharp eyes cut across the others.

”You fools,” she said, voice like ice. ”Look at you. Snapping like dogs while fire rains from the sky. Hunters don’t wield such weapons. Not even the oldest clans among them. This is something new.”

”And yet,” muttered Korr, the one-eyed wolf lord, ”every time one of our settlements vanishes, a human town stands untouched not far from it. Too clean. Too quiet. If they aren’t behind it, they know what it is.”

The council stirred again. Fear turned into paranoia, paranoia into suspicion.

”It must be collusion,” Drezar snarled. ”One of us feeding them information. Telling them where we are weak.” His gaze cut toward Malrix again. ”And I know who profits.”

The serpent lord slammed his tail down, shaking the floor. ”Say it again, and I’ll carve your tongue out.”

Chains of magic rattled as Varna’s staff struck the floor. ”Then do it, and watch the nation crumble from within. That’s exactly what the enemy wants.”

But no one listened.

The arguments twisted tighter, sharper. One lord after another threw accusations. The ogre chieftain blamed the winged kin for flying too close to the humans. The spider matriarch accused the witches of striking bargains in secret. Each accusation fed the fire until it was more dangerous than the unseen enemy outside.

Then it snapped.

Drezar leapt across the table, wings flaring wide as he lunged at Malrix. The serpent lord rose to meet him, coils lashing, fangs dripping venom. Their bodies crashed in the center of the chamber, obsidian splintering under the weight of their fury.

”Traitor!” Drezar roared, claws tearing across scales.

”Liar!” Malrix hissed, wrapping coils around the drake’s throat.

Gorath bellowed and slammed his massive arms down to part them, but the wolf lord Korr lunged next, snapping at Varna with his teeth bared. ”You speak too calmly for one who isn’t guilty!”

Varna’s staff flared, knocking him back with a blast of black flame. ”Touch me again, and you’ll never draw breath!”

Chaos.

The chamber became a battlefield. Claws raked against stone. Magic cracked across the walls. The spider matriarch’s threads lashed out, tangling wings and limbs, only for them to be torn apart in sprays of ichor.

Gorath ripped Malrix and Drezar apart with brute force, slamming them against the walls like ragdolls. His roar shook the chamber. ”We are tearing ourselves apart while our people burn!”

Blood dripped across the table. Breaths came hard. The lords froze where they stood, each glaring, each waiting for the other to flinch.

And then—

A scout stumbled into the chamber, covered in ash and sweat, his voice breaking. ”Another... settlement... gone.”

The silence that followed was deeper than the chaos before. Every eye turned toward him.

The scout swallowed, voice trembling. ”I watched with my own eyes. There was no enemy on the ground. No army. No hunter. Just the sky... splitting. And then fire. Barrages of it. Enough to burn the valley into nothing.”

His words fell heavy into the silence.

No one argued now.

Varna’s eyes narrowed, her voice low but sharp enough to cut. ”Do you see? We are not fighting each other’s betrayals. We are facing something greater. Something that sees us as dust.”

But the others still shifted uneasily. Even with the truth in front of them, the distrust lingered. They had already tasted blood. Already imagined betrayal.

Drezar spat blood to the side. ”If it isn’t humans, then what? A weapon? A god? Something above us?”

No one answered.

Because none of them knew.

And that was worse than any betrayal.

Back To Lucian

The Nova Sanctum drifted through the clouds like a silent predator.

Lucian sat in the command chair this time, his cloak draped over one arm, Kaelis coiled lazily around his shoulders. The dragon’s molten eyes scanned the endless dark through the glass, faintly amused by the destruction they had left behind.

The hum of the ship never changed—steady, alive, like it knew where it was going before anyone else did.

Then Alfred’s voice broke the quiet.

[Captain. New settlement detected.]

A holo-map blinked into the air before Lucian, glowing red markers spreading across a valley nestled between jagged cliffs. There were hundreds of signatures again, tightly clustered—only this time, two pulsed brighter than the rest.

[Running scan.]

Lucian leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes narrowing as the display sharpened.

[Result: Settlement population, one thousand and twenty-three. Rank distribution: majority B through A. One X Rank identified as settlement leader. One XX Rank detected—classified as guardian.]

The numbers lingered on the screen, steady, precise.

Lucian’s brow furrowed faintly. ”X... and even an XX.”

Kaelis stirred at the back of his neck, smoke curling from his nostrils. ”Finally. Something with teeth?”

But Lucian didn’t share the dragon’s amusement. His jaw tightened. His fingers tapped once against the chair’s arm.

”Still too weak,” he muttered.

Kaelis tilted his head, eyes burning hotter. ”Too weak? A guardian at XX would flatten any human sector foolish enough to stand in their way. Even your so-called associations steer clear when monsters of that rank walk the field. Yet you...” His tail flicked around Lucian’s arm. ”You dismiss them.”

Lucian’s gaze didn’t leave the glowing red markers. His voice was calm, flat. ”If they can’t reach me, they don’t matter.”

Alfred’s tone carried no judgment, only fact. [Target settlement defenses minimal. Wards present, but ranks confirm no high-tier array. Should you wish, the Sanctum’s bombardment will erase them in under two minutes.]

Lucian exhaled quietly. He leaned back into the chair, resting his chin against one hand.

”Set firing solution.”

Panels along the chamber lit in sequence. Outside, the Sanctum’s belly split open again, silent bays sliding into place, warheads locking into their rails.

Kaelis rumbled low, his voice almost mocking. ”So even with an XX standing guard, you won’t step onto the ground? You’ll let the fire do your work?”

Lucian’s eyes cut to him, sharp. ”You mistake me for someone who needs to prove anything.”

The dragon chuckled, deep and thunderous, smoke coiling in the air. ”Careful. That arrogance of yours will either crown you... or bury you.”

Lucian turned back to the display, unblinking. His lips curved faintly, sharp as the Sanctum’s hull.

”We’ll see.”

The warheads slid into place. The valley glowed on the map, unaware.

And as Alfred’s voice announced readiness, Lucian’s command came as calm as ever.

”Fire.”

The sky outside split again, white streaks diving toward the world below.

And the monster nation’s heart drew closer, unaware that their council’s paranoia meant nothing compared to the storm about to fall.