The number stayed stable, but Liam felt the weight of potential collapse pressing against his synthesis. This was the moment where Lord Azra could shatter—where the performance became too much to maintain, where the actor admitted defeat and the role dissolved.

"No," Liam said quietly.

"I'm sorry?" The High Priest looked genuinely confused.

"No," Liam repeated, louder now. "I don't accept this."

"The prophecy is not something you can simply refuse to accept—"

"Watch me." Liam's voice carried Primordial Authority now, making the air itself vibrate. "I know the heroes are training. Learning their powers. Becoming the champions prophecy demands. That means they're not ready yet. That means they're vulnerable."

"They're protected by—"

"I don't care what they're protected by," Liam interrupted. "I'm guessing they won't be ready for three months. Maybe four. That's enough time to find them. Hunt them. Kill them before they become unkillable."

The High Priest's expression shifted to something like alarm. "You can't—"

"I can. I will." Liam turned to his strike force. "We're leaving. Now."

"Lord Azra," Kael'thra said, her voice carrying absolute faith despite the situation. "What are your orders?"

"We return to the army. We tell them the truth—that we're too late to stop the summoning, but not too late to stop the heroes. And then we do what we came here to do." Liam's smile was cold and absolutely certain. "We break the prophecy. Just... differently than planned."

He turned back to the High Priest, who was backing away now, finally recognizing the danger.

"Tell your heroes," Liam said quietly, "that the Originator of Sin is coming for them. Tell them that prophecy means nothing to someone who's already impossible. Tell them—"

He Phase Shifted, appearing directly in front of the old man, close enough to see the fear in his eyes.

"Tell them that the Primordial Demon is real and will be their end."

Then Liam turned and walked away, leaving the High Priest alive as a messenger.

Because Lord Azra didn't kill defeated enemies out of spite.

He left them alive to spread terror.

The strike force extracted from Sanctum Lux with the same efficiency they'd used to infiltrate. No alarms raised. No pursuit. Just forty-seven Fourth Order specialists and three commanders disappearing back into the chaos of the eastern assault.

By the time they rejoined the main army, the battle had been raging for three hours. Casualties were mounting—Liam could see it in the exhausted faces, hear it in the desperate commands being shouted.

Commander Torven found them immediately. "Lord Azra—did you succeed?"

"Gather all commanders," Liam said. "Emergency council. Now."

Within minutes, they were assembled in a hastily erected command tent—all seven legion commanders, Lieutenant Zara, Lord Arcturus under Fourth Order guard, and Queen Lilith.

"The Cathedral's summoning infrastructure has been destroyed," Liam said without preamble.

Relief flooded through the assembled commanders.

"However," he continued, and watched the relief die, "it was destroyed three days ago. After the summoning was completed. The Twenty-One Heroes of Prophecy have manifested."

The silence was absolute.

"We've lost," someone whispered.

"We're dead," another voice added.

"SILENCE." Liam's Primordial Authority crashed through the tent like a physical force. "We haven't lost. We've just learned the battlefield has changed."

"Lord Azra, with respect—" Commander Torven began.

"The heroes were just summoned," Liam interrupted. "Raw vessels. They need three to four months of training before they're ready to begin their crusade. That means they're not the unkillable champions yet. They're just powerful targets."

Comprehension began to dawn on faces around the tent.

"You want to hunt them," Lieutenant Zara said. "Before they're ready."

"Exactly." Liam moved to the tactical map. "Twenty-one targets. Three to four months before they become unstoppable. Our objective hasn't changed—prevent the prophecy from cleansing demonkind. We just have to do it by killing the heroes individually instead of stopping their summoning."

"That's..." Lord Arcturus spoke for the first time, his face pale. "That's still impossible. Even untrained, they're prophesied champions. Divine vessels. They'll have power beyond—"

"Beyond normal demons, yes," Liam agreed. "But I'm not a normal demon. I'm the Primordi. And if I have to hunt down twenty-one teenagers with god complexes to save this empire, then that's what I'll do."

"But first," Liam continued, his voice hardening, "we finish what we started. The eastern assault is underway. Sanctum Lux's defenders are engaged. And I am not retreating from this capital without making them pay for every demon who died getting us here."

"Lord Azra, our supplies—" Zara began.

"Don't matter," Liam said flatly. "We're not here to occupy. We're here to destroy. To send a message that cannot be ignored. To prove that prophecy or no prophecy, the demon empire will not die quietly."

He met each commander's eyes in turn.

"So here's what's going to happen," he said. "We're going to breach these walls. We're going to burn this city. We're going to kill their king and anyone else who stands between us and making Sanctum Lux remember exactly why demons are feared."

"That's suicide," someone muttered.

"No," Lilith said, speaking for the first time since they'd returned. Her golden eyes were fierce. "That's war. And we're very good at it."

She moved to stand beside Liam, a united front of demon leadership.

"All forces commit to the breach," she commanded. "No reserves. No fallback positions. We break through or we die trying. Either way, prophecy learns that demons don't surrender."

The commanders dispersed to relay orders, leaving Liam and Lilith alone in the command tent.

"This is insane," she said quietly.

"I know."

"We're going to lose thousands more taking a city we can't hold."

"I know."

"And after we burn it, we still have to somehow hunt down twenty-one divine champions before they become unstoppable."

"I know," Liam repeated. "But what's the alternative? Accept defeat? March home and wait for prophecy to manifest? I didn't come this far to give up because the timeline changed."

Lilith studied him for a long moment. "You really think we can win this?"

"I think we have to," Liam said. "So yes. We'll win. Because the alternative is extinction, and I refuse to let that happen."

Outside, the assault intensified. Sixty thousand demons threw themselves against walls that had stood for three millennia, determined to break through or die trying.

Inside, Lord Azra prepared to do what he did best.

Convince everyone—including himself—that impossible was just another word for inevitable.

"Sound the advance," he said quietly. "All legions. No holding back. We breach Sanctum Lux today."

"And tomorrow?" Lilith asked.

"Tomorrow we start hunting their gods chosen."

The command went out, carried by horns and runners and the absolute faith of soldiers who believed their leader could defy prophecy itself.

The battle for Sanctum Lux entered its next phase.

And somewhere in the city, three heroes—prepared to face an enemy who refused to acknowledge their divine mandate.

The war had changed.

But it was far from over.

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