January 31, 2026

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 525. Bad News

My throat tightened.

I didn’t answer.

She noticed.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. Her hand stilled on the wire frame she was twisting.

“…Argod?”

I met her eyes.

And said nothing.

For a moment, the silence between us crackled louder than any fire I could conjure.

She sat up straighter, goggles sliding from her head to her neck. “What happened?”

Still, I didn’t speak. I just looked at her.

Because I knew the second I said it, something inside her would break.

So I did what I could. I forced a smile. Not a good one. Not convincing. It was tight, crooked, a little too stiff at the corners. But I had to wear it. Like armor. Just long enough to soften the moment. Long enough to say the lie I needed.

“We need to talk,” I said quietly, hands folding behind my back.

Sela raised an eyebrow, immediately suspicious. “You’re in my room already. Talk.”

“No,” I said, and it came out gentler than I expected. “Not here.”

She blinked. “Why?”

I swept my gaze around the room.

Wires. Crystals. Half-charged traps that hummed with unstable mana. I spotted three weapons still in calibration mode and a glowing sphere that might’ve been a prototype for a portable mana grenade or a music box. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to test it.

There were sigils carved into wooden boards, some of them still raw and bleeding energy. Loose shards of ore sat in bowls marked with runes I couldn’t read. One of them vibrated in time with Sela’s breathing. Another seemed to pulse faster every time her voice rose above a whisper.

“I don’t want to risk it,” I muttered, sweeping my gaze across the mess again. “Some of these are reactive. If your mana spikes too fast, half this room might explode. Or freeze us. Or send us to another dimension. You tell me.”

She didn’t laugh. Didn’t even flinch. She followed my gaze, eyes passing over her own creations like she was seeing them for the first time.

“Fine,” she said after a long pause. “Balcony. I usually keep that place neat.”

She stood without waiting for me.

I followed, slower. Careful.

She moved like the room was alive and she was born to walk through its teeth. Her steps were light, weaving between the spools of enchanted thread, over the tripping hazards of jagged copper, and ducking under the hanging charms like she was walking through her childhood home. Not even a twitch of hesitation.

Me?

I was playing ‘the floor is lava’, royal edition. One wrong step and I might’ve stepped on something that teleported my left foot to another Realm and left the rest of me behind.

I muttered under my breath the whole way.

But eventually, we reached the balcony.

It was small. Private. Just big enough for two chairs, a low circular table carved from red stone, and a few vine-filled pots along the edges. The mountain air was cooler here, laced with the scent of sky-flowers and mana mist. The wind tugged gently at her tunic, and behind her, the view of Draconis stretched like a living painting, spires in gold, mana trails like glowing veins in the mountainside.

She sat first. Her eyes were already hard.

Waiting.

The silence dragged.

Her smile faded completely. “Argod, say it.”

Yeah, she called my name. It meant she was serious and this was personal.

I inhaled.

The wind passed between us.

But the words didn’t want to come.

I reached for something softer. Anything. Any gentler version. A deflection. A delay. A cushion.

There wasn’t one.

So I just said it.

“He’s gone.”

Her breath caught.

I saw it, the exact second the recognition slammed into her. Her chest stopped rising. Her mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out.

She didn’t ask who.

She didn’t have to.

There was only one “he” who would make me look like this.

“Your childhood friend. The duke’s son.”

Her eyes shimmered. Not with tears. Not yet.

But her hands trembled. Just once.

“…Why?” she whispered. Her voice was thin, like stretched wire. “What happened to him? Did the Dwarf King send him to war? A battle? Was he betrayed? Or… or—”

“Executed,” I said quietly. “By the king.”

She blinked at me, genuinely confused, like the words didn’t fit together in her mind. “What…? That doesn’t make sense. Why would he—” Her brows knitted. Her voice dropped. “Was it because of me?”

I shook my head immediately. Firm. Certain. “No.”

She searched my face, like she needed to be absolutely sure.

“Your old friend tried to warn him about the Nymph Queen,” I continued. “He was right. But they silenced him instead.”

No words from her.

She just stared ahead, past me, into the mess of her workshop like it could hide her from what I’d just said.

I waited.

Not because I wanted to.

But because I owed her that much.

Then, finally, her voice.

“…What did they say he did?”

“Paranoia,” I answered. “Treason. Undermining the king’s trust. He begged them to be careful. Said the Nymph Queen’s offer was bait. Said she was planning something. They called him mad.”

She closed her eyes.

I saw her lips move.

Not a prayer.

Not a curse.

Just a name.

His name.

Her hands slowly curled into fists.

“Is she marrying him?”

“They’re preparing the ceremony,” I said. “A political alliance. Her daughter offered. The dwarf king accepted.”

Her breath hitched, but still, no tears.

Just steel.

And beneath that? Fire.

The kind of fire no forge could tame.

I watched as Sela reached for the nearest piece of metal. A sharp gear edge. She didn’t cut herself. She just held it. Turned it. Let the weight of it sit in her palm like it was something familiar. Something grounding.

Then she whispered, “I should’ve killed her first. No… both of them.”

I said nothing.

Because maybe she was right.

And maybe I would help her.

When she finally looked up at me, her eyes were no longer cloudy. They were clear.

Clear and burning.

But I had to rein it in. That fire. If I didn’t, the next thing out of her mouth would be blood. And not just metaphorically.