Chapter 457: Declaration Of War

’Why would I even think that way?’ Nadia wondered.

Normally, whenever Mika did something for her, she understood it as natural maternal affection—a son caring for his mother.

But in this moment, he seemed so much more mature. So much more commanding and intimidating.

The way he was glaring at everyone, defending her so fiercely, made her feel flustered and warm in a way that was distinctly...different.

She couldn’t help but think of him as something more than just her son.

Which really embarrassed her.

She scolded herself internally for even having such thoughts. It was wrong and ridiculous.

She decided to blame it on the intensity of the situation, on all the pressure she was feeling from every direction.

That’s why she was feeling this way. Nothing more.

She decided to ignore the matter entirely.

Meanwhile, Mika himself was still genuinely angry.

He’d been casual and playful earlier, but now that he’d spoken about everything Nadia had done, he was actually furious at how these people had treated her and he wanted vent his feelings.

He suddenly smirked and pulled the microphone closer.

"You lot, also have to remember something else." He said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

Everyone’s attention immediately focused on him.

"After defeating the Eternal Queen..." Mika continued slowly. "...Nadia and the rest of the Battle Angels could have very easily taken over the entire world."

"They could have stepped into the Eternal Queen’s place and become the absolute rulers instead."

This caught everyone completely off guard.

"But she didn’t do that." Mika said, his voice carrying clearly. "Instead, she gave it all back. She asked for nothing in return."

"She focused entirely on bringing the world together, on establishing peace and cooperation. She never once demanded tribute or authority or special privileges."

The guilt in the room intensified.

Because what he said was absolutely true.

Nadia and the other Battle Angels, unlike anyone else who would find themselves in such a position of overwhelming power—had not asked for more authority or territory or wealth.

Instead, they’d simply wanted to live peaceful lives and bring harmony to everyone.

They were basically saints—beings of such benevolence and selflessness that it seemed almost impossible that they could exist without any greed for power.

Many delegates were now looking at Nadia with renewed appreciation in their eyes.

But then Mika’s expression turned even more dominating, almost menacing.

"The reason I’m saying all of this isn’t just to show you that you should appreciate Nadia more for what she’s done."

He chuckled, but it was a dark, humorless sound.

"It’s also to warn you."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

"It’s to remind you..." Mika continued, his voice cold and deliberate. "...that the reason you exist today—the reason you are who you are right now—is because Nadia and the rest of the Battle Angels allowed you to exist."

He shook his head in a mocking gesture.

"And similarly..." He said, his smile turning absolutely chilling. "...if she doesn’t want these governments, your legislative bodies, your ruling powers to exist anymore..."

"...she can make that happen just as easily."

He leaned forward slightly.

"After all, for someone who has defeated the Eternal Queen herself—the most powerful existence in the world—what exactly can a bunch of fragile realms do if we decide to retaliate?"

The reaction was instantaneous.

A delegate near the front spat out his water, coughing and sputtering.

Another dropped his tablet, the screen cracking against the floor.

Someone else—a senior diplomat from a powerful realm—slid from his chair, his legs simply refusing to hold him up.

Panic spread through the hall like wildfire.

"Is he—is he threatening us!?"

"Did he just declare war!?"

"Someone call home! Send word—prepare emergency protocols—"

"By the ancestors, we’re going to die!"

This was all because what Mika had just said was essentially an indirect declaration of war.

He was telling them, in no uncertain terms, that if they really wanted to push the issue, the Battle Angels could completely decimate their realms and take over whatever they wanted.

And the truly horrifying thing was that no one could even deny it.

If Nadia and the rest of the Battle Angels actually decided to move against them, they would be completely powerless.

They would be overwhelmed and conquered without any real resistance.

Everyone knew their own limitations.

Everyone knew exactly how terrifying a Battle Angel could be.

Even just Nadia alone would be enough to crush entire worlds, to destroy whatever they’d built.

So this threat was genuinely, viscerally frightening.

It was almost as if Mika was declaring an apocalypse.

The human delegates weren’t much better.

They sat frozen, white-faced, caught between horror and disbelief.

This was not how negotiations were supposed to go. This was not how anything was supposed to go.

On the demi-human side, a delegate—braver than the rest, or perhaps simply too terrified to keep silent—forced himself to his feet.

His legs were shaking. Sweat beaded on his forehead. When he spoke, his voice cracked.

"Is...Is that a threat?" He swallowed hard. "Are you threatening us? Right now? In this hall?"

Mika’s smile didn’t waver.

"You can take it as a simple statement of historical fact, if you prefer. A reminder of what happened in the past, and what could happen in the future."

He paused.

"But of course." He continued, leaning closer to the microphone, his voice dropping to something darker. "if you want to take it as a threat, then by all means—take it as a threat."

His expression became deadly serious.

"But the moment you do, you should prepare to face the human realm with full retaliation. And I should mention—there are a couple of Battle Angels who’ve grown quite restless these days because of how peaceful everything has been."

His smile turned cruel.

"Especially ’one’ of them who’s been dying for an opportunity to go on a proper rampage and utterly destroy something. She would be quite eager to have a legitimate target."

He tilted his head slightly.

"So if you’re going to treat this as a threat—then be ready for the consequences."

The moment those words left his mouth, the entire hall broke out into absolute pandemonium.

Screams of panic and horror erupted from every corner.

"Is he serious?! Is he actually serious right now?!"

"Is he really trying to start a war between the realms?!"

"He’s insane! How is he even related to Lady Nadia?! He’s the exact opposite of her!"

"He’s not trying to bring peace—he’s trying to bring destruction!"

Everyone was terrified.

Some delegates actually fainted in their seats at the thought of what was coming.

Others wet themselves slightly, unable to control their bodily functions under the extreme stress.

Urgent calls were made. Messages were frantically sent back to their home realms, warning of a potential war.

Even the humans on Nadia’s side couldn’t speak.

They were frozen in terror, unable to believe how this simple negotiation—which they’d thought would just be a battle of words and policies was now turning into what sounded like an actual declaration of war.

And Nadia, seeing all of this chaos unfolding, finally couldn’t hold back anymore.

She couldn’t let this situation deteriorate any further, so suddenly, she pulled away from Mika’s embrace and stood up, surprising everyone.

"Everyone, please calm down!" She said, her voice projecting clearly despite the panic. "There is absolutely nothing to worry about in this moment.’

’We are not going to declare war on anyone!"

She placed her hand on Mika’s shoulder in a calming gesture.

"Mika here simply got a little ahead of himself and spoke some overly bold words." She said gently, almost apologetically. "He is young, after all. So please, I ask you to forgive him for that."

She was almost pleading with them.

Something Nadia had never done before in any professional capacity.

But for her son’s sake—and for the sake of world peace—she was willing to humble herself.

The moment they heard this confirmation from Nadia herself—that the boy wasn’t speaking with her authority, that there was no actual war being declared—everyone felt as if they’d just regained years of their lifespan.

They all collapsed back into their chairs, sweating and breathing heavily.

Some frantically drank water.

Others took medicine to calm their racing hearts.

Some of the human delegates had actually ended up sitting on the floor somehow, completely exhausted.

"Thank God." Someone whispered. "Thank God. I almost thought I was about to lose everything."

"Oh my God, that boy terrified me. I almost had a heart attack."

"I need a cigarette. And probably therapy."

Seeing that the panic was subsiding, Nadia quickly clapped her hands together.

"I think it’s time for a small break." She announced firmly. "Let’s reconvene in about half an hour. Until then, please help yourselves to some refreshments outside."

The moment she said that, no one hesitated.

They all scrambled to leave their seats and exit the hall as quickly as possible.

No one wanted to stay in this suffocating room that had almost witnessed a declaration of war.

They all desperately needed fresh air, needed to splash cold water on their faces, needed to process the insane events they’d just lived through.

Seeing that everyone had calmed down and the panic had subsided, Nadia let out a deep sigh of relief.

But just as she did—

She suddenly felt an intense stare directed at her.

An angry stare, full of silent rage.

It made her shiver throughout her entire body.

Slowly, hesitantly, she turned and looked down toward where the stare was coming from.

She saw Mika.

He was looking at her with a dark, furious gaze.

He was genuinely upset—truly angry—at what she had just done.

Almost as if he was deeply offended that she had contradicted him, that she had undermined his words in front of everyone.

And seeing this expression on his face, Nadia couldn’t help but feel pitiful and frightened under his gaze.

Even though she genuinely believed she had done nothing wrong—that she’d prevented a catastrophic diplomatic incident—she somehow felt as if she had committed a terrible mistake.

As if she was about to be deeply punished for it.