Demonic Dragon: Harem System-Chapter 504: Start rebuilding

Chapter 504: Start rebuilding

Diana quickly scanned a map spread out on the long oak table in the main hall of the Grand Duke’s mansion. The Vorah coat of arms was still intact on the tapestry above the fireplace, but the fine dust and smell of ash that permeated the air made it clear that nothing had been untouched by the recent chaos. The city lay in ruins, but it still pulsed—albeit weakly—with the collective effort to survive.

“We need three platoons in the west wing by late afternoon,” she said, without looking up. “The rubble from the Maran bridge is preventing supply shipments from arriving. If we don’t open a corridor by tomorrow, the inner neighborhoods will begin to suffer from hunger and unrest.”

Across the table, a young lieutenant in dirty armor nodded, sweating under the weight of responsibility. “I’ve already sent two Citizen Guard squads, milady, but… the survivors from the nearby towers are in a panic. Many of the soldiers have scattered to help their families.”

Diana finally looked up. Her eyes, hard as carved stone, rested on the lieutenant with a kind of patience that bordered on warning.

“Then gather volunteers. Offer gold. Feed them. Lie, if you must. But don’t tell me what you can’t do — just bring me results.”

He nodded again, more firmly this time, and withdrew, almost stumbling.

The hall was filled with maps, documents, and muffled voices. Messengers came and went with news of makeshift barricades, emergency medical stations, and improvised camps in the former courtyards of the nobles. The mansion, once a symbol of luxury and control, had been transformed into a makeshift barracks, a beating heart in the shattered city.

Diana did not stop.

With her sleeves rolled up, stained with soot, and a leather strap tied in her hair, she bore no resemblance to the elegant strategist of banquets and war councils. That woman had been buried under the rubble along with the old illusions of security. What remained now was pure steel, forged in loss and urgency.

A captain approached, a veteran of the Frozen Frontiers War.

“Milady, the north wing has been without water for three days. The canals have been contaminated by the collapse of the temple of Aelios.”

Diana made a quick note with charcoal on an emergency scroll.

“Divert the route from the Almar reservoir, use the arcane pumps if necessary. If any priests complain, send them to purify the dead first.”

The captain smiled slightly—not out of contempt for faith, but out of relief that someone still thought like a commander.

She turned and walked to the mansion’s balcony. Outside, the city still smoldered. Broken towers pierced the sky like the exposed ribs of a wounded giant. The sound of hammers already echoed among the stones, and shouts of command crossed the air as workers, soldiers, and lesser mages tried to rebuild the soul of the city before fear became a plague.

Thalassia could not fall. Vorah could not crumble. And Diana… could not fail.

She leaned on the railing, breathing deeply the air poisoned with dust and hope.

Behind her, light footsteps approached.

“You should rest,” said a familiar voice.

Beatrice.

Diana didn’t even turn around. “I can’t. If I stop, everything falls apart.”

“You’re falling apart,” Beatrice replied, now at her side. “Not physically. But here.” She touched Diana’s chest with a delicate gesture.

Diana closed her eyes for a moment.

“Do you know how many children died in the siege?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “I saw one being pulled from the rubble with her eyes open. She was still smiling… maybe thinking the fireworks were a party. And now they want me to fix this with wood, soldiers, and promises?”

Beatrice didn’t answer. She just stood beside her.

After a few seconds, Diana composed herself, returning to the toughness that had made her feared on the battlefield.

“The Grand Duke will return soon. He needs to find this city standing. Even if I have to bleed every street with my own hands.”

Beatrice let out a tired sigh, but respected the silence. She knew Diana wasn’t speaking out of vanity—but out of desperation. A need for control. A desperate attempt to keep what was left of meaning in the world intact.

“Strax should be back soon. What do you intend to do?” Beatrice asked, staring intently at Diana. “I know things are chaotic, but we need to go after whoever caused this.”

Diana let out a heavy sigh, keeping her eyes fixed on the devastated city in front of her.

“I don’t know if that will be possible,” she replied, her voice heavy with frustration. “The Vorah Academy was not made for war. We train swordsmen… not soldiers for war. You may have to go without support. Especially now… with this new form of yours.”

She turned slightly and glanced meaningfully at Beatrice’s pink hair.

Beatrice touched a strand of her own hair, unable to hide her discomfort. “Do you think that changes everything?”

“I don’t know what it changes,” Diana said sincerely. “I just know that something is different. In all of you. And we don’t have time to question it.”

Beatrice looked away for a moment, as if swallowing something bitter, then looked back at Diana.

“What about Strax’s brothers? Do you know where they are?”

Diana hesitated. A trace of sadness crossed her hardened face.

“That’s a question I wish I could answer… but the truth is complicated. Ever since Strax killed those three… useless ones, his brothers decided that Vorah was no longer safe for them. And Strax’s stories keep getting more and more advanced, so, well, they ran away.”

She stepped away from the balcony and crossed her arms.

“Liam and Noah disappeared months ago. No letters. No clues. Veronica… well, she still writes. From time to time. But she never says where she is. She just sends short, dry messages. As if she’s afraid of being tracked down.”

Beatrice frowned, uneasy. “I think it’s kind of funny that they didn’t feel safe when they were the danger to Strax back then, but that’s life.”

“They’re afraid of what Strax has become,” Diana replied bluntly. “Or maybe what he might become. And honestly, I would be too—if I didn’t know him better.”

A heavy silence hung between them for a few moments. The kind of silence that precedes difficult decisions.

“When he comes back,” Beatrice said, “I’m going with him. With or without Vorah’s help. The city is still burning inside, even if it looks intact. Someone has to go after the source of this.”

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