Chapter 293: A Choice Must Be Made For Them I

The Triarcan Keep was suffocating.

The silence that followed Selamira’s voice was not gentle. It was heavy with power.

Even the air refused to move.

While sharp words had been exchanged, more had arrived. Vessels of Dynasties that had lingered outside now hovered overhead. Individuals disembarked- some with solemn expressions, others cloaked in mystery- as the Triarcan Keep continued to fill.

More Ancient Ones drifted into their seats in humanoid forms, their pressure only adding to the unbearable weight pressing down.

Achilles’ sharp eyes moved, noting every new presence. Weighing every power that stepped in. He was counting. Calculating. Observing.

And when Selamira spoke again…

The entire Keep froze.

Her voice demanded respect.

“I see little has changed,” she said coldly, her gaze cutting across the entire assembly. “You all stand in this sacred Keep, yet you forget its meaning.”

She turned, her sea-blue eyes sweeping across the gathered crowd.

“This Triarcan Keep… is not just a structure,” she said, each word dipped in ancient remembrance. “It is a place born from blood. From a time when three Ancient Lineages nearly brought themselves to extinction.”

A pause.

No one interrupted.

“They fought here,” Selamira continued, “thousands of years ago. Their might shattered the lands and boiled the seas. They realized too late the destruction they were causing… and chose to stop. Here. In this very region.”

Her hand motioned to the stone beneath their feet.

“This Keep was raised where the blood dried. Where they swore no more wars would unfold. No more battles in this space. It became a place of parley. Of honor. Of restraint.”

Her voice dipped lower.

“Even when humans rose and fell, when they reigned for mere centuries, they still treated this Keep with reverence. No matter how fragile they were, even they understood the weight of tradition.”

Now, her head turned fully.

Her eyes locked on Achilles.

“But do you know what that tradition truly is, human?” she asked coldly. “Do you understand?”

Achilles tilted his head slightly, his smile unreadable.

Selamira’s voice turned glacial.

“All of this… is sentimentality.”

…!

A ripple passed through the crowd.

“There is nothing,” she said softly, “nothing binding me from reaching forward, right now and peeling the flesh from your bones.”

WAA!

Her voice was delicate. But the words struck like thunder.

“I could do it,” she whispered, “with everyone here watching.”

…!

The implied threat hung in the air like a blade pressed to every throat.

And yet…

Achilles smiled calmly.

He raised a single brow. “Ah. So this is how the wise and esteemed Ancient Ones handle disagreements? Torture? Violence?”

Selamira did not blink.

“I speak only for myself,” she said smoothly. “I am not one for sentimental games. We are here to plan for what is to come. Not trade barbs. Not posture.”

She turned, now addressing all.

“Planar Destiny exists. It is real. And it has chosen humans to bear it.”

Her words turned sharper.

“But power without guidance is ruin. It must be steered.”

She pointed a finger, slowly, toward the assembled Ancient Ones, then back toward the thrones of human Dynasties.

“The best way forward is unity. Through control. Through guidance. Through wisdom that has stood since the first flames of this Plane. The Ancient Races… must steer the Destiny.”

Her voice turned cold as stone.

“This is not up for debate.”

Her gaze returned to Achilles.

“This is not something to negotiate.”

Her final words rang like judgment itself.

“It is final. It is how things must be.”

It was final.

Such words rang out like a closing gate, and many eyes within the Triarcan Keep flashed coldly in their aftermath.

But Achilles…

He kept his smile.

An unbothered, calculating calm etched across his features as countless possibilities passed through his mind like swift blades. Every pathway, every cost, every reaction already measured.

Beside him, Rose silently slipped her hand into his.

He turned to her.

Her eyes met his with quiet intensity.

Whatever choice he made… she would stand by it.

No matter what.

Just behind them, Sun, the Monkey King, tilted his head and scratched behind one golden ear with a wide grin.

“What glorious methods of diplomacy you all hold,” he said cheerfully, his voice loud enough to carry through the Keep. “I almost feel inspired to compose poetry.”

A few heads turned toward him. None dared laugh.

Then another voice rose- refined, sharp, and glimmering with centuries of authority.

A High Elf, robed in flowing emerald and silver, stepped forward from the seated cluster of elven Ancient Ones.

“If the posturing is finished,” the Elf said coolly, “perhaps we can proceed to real planning. The designation of which Ancient Lineages will oversee which regions and Dynasties as preparations are made.”

…!

The air thickened.

Expressions across many human faces began to darken.

The implications were clear.

Rule was no longer a question of negotiation, it was a framework already decided.

At that moment, the Lunaris Throne rose.

He stood slowly, with the cold, proud bearing of a man who had already made peace with a decision.

His voice was calm, even pleasant.

“Of course,” he said. “But as we proceed, there should be benefit extended to the Dynasties that accept this structure. Treasures. Techniques. Aeonic Relics of power- if we are to work together.”

…!

He spoke as if the deal had already been signed.

As if he welcomed the rule of Ancient Ones.

Across the chamber, the expressions of many humans twisted further. Conflicted. Furious. Silent.

Selamira did not bat an eye.

She only nodded faintly.

“We are all moving toward the same goal,” she said coldly. “So the hardships, and the rewards, will be shared.”

Her gaze swept across the gathered crowd.

“Humans will be given treasures beyond their comprehension. Methods to wield power they could never have imagined. Runescripture, Forging, Alchemy….Strength enough to survive and thrive.”

She folded her hands behind her back, standing tall before the Sea Tribe’s warriors and the gathered Ancients.

“Many things will change. But at the end of the day…”

Her voice echoed like a tide crashing down.

“You will be ready.”

“For the enemies coming from the stars.”