A whole week passed in Asgard as winter slowly advanced across the northern continent. The city’s monstrous growth didn’t slow down for even a single day during that ti. Locomotives continued to crisscross the newly built tracks without rest, factories kept their furnaces burning night and day, new refugees constantly arrived from the regions devastated by the chaos left after the fall of the monarchs, and the industrial districts continued to expand at a speed that was beginning to frighten even the city’s own administrators.
Even without Strax present, Asgard continued to function.
Perhaps even too well.
The girls began to return gradually over those days. So arrived wounded. Others tired. Others simply carrying the weight of weeks of battles, expeditions, and accumulated problems.
Samira returned first, covered in dried blood, carrying reports on the monstrous nests found in the northern mountains. She brought with her dozens of Wyvern eggs, several wounded rcenaries, and an absurd number of complaints about crazed migratory creatures. Rogue returned with her, quieter than usual, while Agnes practically disappeared into the infirmaries as soon as she arrived in Asgard, spending entire days caring for survivors of attacks on the trade routes.
Xyn returned two days later, bringing even worse reports about the mountain routes. According to her, so creatures were beginning to act in a strangely coordinated way, as if sothing was slowly reorganizing the scattered monsters after the Beast Monarch’s death.
Shura and Kali returned, nearly destroying half the gates upon arrival, arguing about which of them had killed more creatures during the week. Neither seed particularly concerned about their own injuries. Both were covered in blood, dirt, and small cuts still healing.
Cristine and Yennefer returned for only a few hours before disappearing again on their own clandestine operations. They brought worrying information about political movents in the central kingdoms. So nations began to observe Asgard with too much attention.
That was never good.
Xenovia and Krissia practically moved into the new training center, training newly hired soldiers, adventurers, and rcenaries to reinforce trade routes.
anwhile, Beatrice, Cassandra, and Daniela continued to bring survivors from the north daily. The number of refugees absorbed by Asgard already surpassed numbers that would have been considered absurd for any city on the continent.
But Monica had planned space for it.
She always planned.
And Strax?
Strax slept through it all.
A whole week.
In fact, almost nine full days.
Honestly, nobody really dared to wake him.
Because everyone quickly noticed the state he was in after returning from the Celestial Capital.
The problem wasn’t just physical.
It was ntal.
Exhaustion was perhaps too small a word to define exactly what had been happening to him since they arrived on that continent. From day one, Strax had virtually no real rest. Everything turned into a continuous sequence of battles, forced growth, absurd responsibilities, and conflicts that always seed to get worse.
First ca the initial chaos of the northern regions.
Then the territorial wars.
The disputes against ancient creatures.
The political conflicts.
The growth of Asgard.
The refugees.
The constant attacks.
The trade routes.
The pressure of becoming the center of balance for an entire continent that was slowly beginning to collapse.
And in the midst of it all, ca the monarchs.
The Beast Monarch.
The Ice Monarch.
The White Fla Monarch.
Each confrontation leaving deeper scars than the last.
Each victory demanding more from him.
More power.
More control.
More violence.
More responsibility.
More impossible decisions.
Besides that, there was another problem.
Ouroboros.
That wouldn’t leave his head.
Since the incident during the trip to the Celestial Capital, Strax had barely been able to fully relax. The mont when sothing temporarily took control of her body kept constantly returning to his thoughts.
It didn’t seem normal.
It didn’t seem like ordinary magic.
It didn’t seem like simple corruption.
And worst of all, Ouroboros didn’t seem to understand exactly what had happened either.
She hid it.
She avoided it.
She changed the subject.
She tried to act normally.
But Strax knew her too well not to notice the growing discomfort behind each strange silence.
It bothered him.
Much more than he admitted.
For days on end before finally falling asleep, he stayed awake ntally reviewing everything that had happened in the Celestial Capital. Every detail. Every word. Every change in her aura. Every instant that strange presence appeared.
And the more he thought about it, the less he liked the situation.
Perhaps that’s why her body simply gave up.
The mont he finally lay down on his bed inside Asgard’s castle, he simply passed out.
Without dreams.
Without consciousness.
Without even noticing the days passing.
The room remained silent for most of that period. A few girls would occasionally co in to check if he was still alive. Others would just watch from afar before leaving again. Monica arranged for no one to disturb him unnecessarily.
And for the first ti in many months, Strax simply disappeared from the daily workings of Asgard.
Even so, the city kept turning.
On the morning of the ninth day, the room was silent except for the soft sound of the wind partially filtering through the castle’s enormous windows. The fine snow was slowly beginning to cover parts of the outer towers while the grey winter light partially illuminated the surroundings.
Strax still lay sunken in the gigantic bed, partially covered by the dark sheets, completely motionless.
Then a soft sound began to slowly pierce the silence.
Soone was humming.
A low lody.
Distracted.
Almost relaxing.
The sound was accompanied by the light rustling of fabric, the occasional clatter of furniture being cleaned, and the faint scent of cleaning products.
Strax’s consciousness began to slowly return.
Heavy.
Slow.
As if his own brain was still trying to decide if it really wanted to wake up.
He remained motionless for a few seconds before finally opening his eyes slowly.
His vision was still partially blurred by excessive sleep as he stared at the bedroom ceiling.
Then he heard the humming again.
Loose.
Carefree.
Feminine.
Strax blinked slowly a few tis before partially turning his face toward the sound.
And found his mother, Scathach, cleaning the room.
She was wearing a maid uniform absurdly inappropriate for any remotely serious concept of dostic cleaning. The black dress was too tight in several places, too short to look functional, and clearly designed more to provoke reactions than to serve as legitimate work attire. The dark stockings further accentuated her legs, while the excessively generous neckline made the whole situation even more absurd.
She seed completely comfortable in that outfit.
Which made everything worse.
She humd distractedly while cleaning one of the shelves near the window, completely carefree.
Strax stared at her in absolute silence for a few seconds.
His brain was clearly still not functioning at normal speed.
Then he slowly sat up in the middle of the gigantic bed, running a hand over his face before rubbing his eyes with evident residual exhaustion.
The movent finally caught her attention.
Scathach turned her head slightly while still holding a cleaning cloth in her hands.
"Oh."
She blinked a few tis, realizing he was awake.
"Did I wake you?"
Her voice ca out naturally calm, almost too casual for soone dressed that way in her own son’s room.
Strax remained silent for a few seconds before finally managing to form words.
"What... are you doing?"
She tilted her head slightly as if the question were strange.
"Cleaning."
Strax looked at the uniform again.
Then the cleaning cloth.
Then her.
Then he sighed deeply.
"I noticed that."
She finally seed to notice exactly where he was looking.
"And the uniform?"
"Yes."
The woman glanced quickly at her own clothes before shrugging without any sha.
"The girls said it suited ."
"Of course they did."
She calmly resud cleaning the shelf while continuing to hum softly.
Strax still seed too ntally wrecked to fully process the situation.
How long had he slept?
His body still felt heavy.
His mind was slow.
His muscles were tired.
But at the sa ti, for the first ti in months, he felt he had truly rested.
Even if only partially.
Scathach then looked back at him as she tidied up so books.
"Sorry if I woke you."
Strax ran his hand over his face again before answering:
"How long did I sleep?"
"Nine days."
The silence that followed was almost awkward.
He blinked slowly a few tis.
"Nine?"
She nodded naturally.
"You just passed out."
That explained a lot.
Strax let out a small, tired sigh as he looked partially out the window, bathed in the cold winter light.
His body must really be at its limit.
Probably worse than he imagined.
The woman continued cleaning normally as she spoke:
"The room was starting to get dusty."
"Nine days..."
"You barely moved."
He remained silent for a few seconds, trying to ntally reorganize everything he had probably missed during that ti.
Asgard.
The girls.
The reports.
The attacks.
Ouroboros.
Just thinking about it made his headache slowly return.
Scathach imdiately noticed his expression.
"You still look tired."
"Because I am."
She observed him for a few seconds before sighing lightly.
"You’re working too hard."
Strax let out a small, tired laugh at that.
"Now even you’ve started this?"
"They all started a long ti ago."
He partially rested his elbows on his knees as he breathed slowly.
The room remained silent for a few seconds, apart from the sound of the wind partially filtering through the windows and the fabric of her uniform moving as she continued cleaning.
Then Strax finally looked up again.
"Where are the others?"
"Scattered throughout the city."
She neatly placed so objects on the table before continuing:
"Monica practically threatened half the administrators during her week off."
"Did she at least get so rest?"
"More or less."
"That is to say, no."
"Basically."
This didn’t surprise him in the slightest.
Scathach then draped the cloth over her shoulder as she slowly walked towards the bed.
"But honestly?" she said calmly. "You looked worse."
Strax looked at her silently.
"Worse how?"
She crossed her arms slowly.
"Like soone who was about to fall apart without realizing it."
That made him stay quiet for a few seconds.
Because maybe she was right.
Maybe they all were.
And honestly, he was already too tired to deny it.
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