(A couple days later, Planet Du Lohora, Moltherak's POV)
A couple days after Moltherak seized Du Lohora, a long line of human messengers formed outside the shattered capital complex, each requesting audience with the newly returned Dragon King, as they arrived adorned in clan insignias and diplomatic silks, representing rival factions and sovereign interests alike, hoping to secure private terms before the next wave of conquest reached their own worlds.
The irony did not escape him.
The very Great Clans whose territories he intended to claim now stood waiting to offer portions of them willingly, bargaining for the illusion of safety in exchange for temporary mercy, as if surrender dressed in diplomacy could slow what was already inevitable.
"Next…"
