Kael absorbed this. "Is that a problem?"

"I don't know." Lilith's honesty was rare. "A monster I can control. A god..." She shook her head. "Gods don't take orders. They give them."

"You knew this was possible when you summoned him."

"Possible, yes. Probable?" She laughed, and it sounded tired. "I gambled that he would play the role long enough for us to stabilize. That he would win battles and secure territory while remaining fundamentally human underneath."

"And now?"

"Now I wait to see what walks through my gates." Lilith turned from the window. "And hope that whatever Liam Cross has become still remembers who gave him the stage to perform on."

She moved toward her private chambers, then paused.

"Kael. When Lord Azra returns, I want three things. First, a full report on every battle. Every decision. Every sin committed in my name." Her violet eyes were hard. "Second, I want the Nameless Litany prepared. If his humanity has degraded as much as I suspect, their faith might be the only anchor that keeps him from fully becoming what we pretend he is."

"And third?"

Lilith's smile was sharp and sad.

"I want you to determine if the man I'm waiting for is still capable of being reasoned with. Or if I've created something that will eventually damn us all."

---

The mountain pass leading to Gorath's fortress was empty except for one figure.

Liam rode alone, as he'd insisted.

Koth had objected. Zara had calculated the risks. The seventeen survivors of Vor'esh had looked at him with eyes that said they'd follow him into Hell itself if he asked.

He'd refused them all.

Not because he feared Gorath. Not because he didn't trust them.

Because the conversation he was about to have needed to happen between equals, and bringing an honor guard would have undermined that.

Besides, he'd slowly lost the ability to he afraid.

A human trait he once dreaded.

He Had felt his humanity burn away until only two percent remained, just enough to remember what he'd lost but not enough to care.

The Radiant Empire was retreating not from tactical defeat but from primal recognition that something beyond their capacity to kill had taken the field.

Was that the truth?

Not exactly, not yet.

However, as long as he was alive - they would have seen no victory, not anymore.

They were right to run.

[Essence: 12,544 EP / 254 TE]

[Evolution Points: 110 EVP]

[Humanity Index: 2%]

[Infamy: Dreaded]

[Dominion: 5.0%]

[Active Believers: 247 demons (Maximum Devotion)]

The numbers were a language he understood better than words now. Mathematics of power. Equations of faith. The cold calculus of what he'd become.

His grey eyes, which occasionally flickered crimson when the demon in him pressed close to the surface, studied the path ahead. Gorath's fortress rose in the distance, carved from volcanic stone, ancient and unyielding.

Like its master.

They'd made an accord. Liam would secure Ashard. Gorath would reveal the truth about Lilith and the war.

Seven outposts secured. One Grand Commander dead. The Radiant Empire in full retreat.

He'd held up his end.

Now it was time to collect.

The gates of Gorath's fortress were open, as they had been before. No guards. No sentries. Just that same unsettling confidence that said nothing could threaten what lived inside.

Liam dismounted and walked through them without hesitation.

The courtyard was different than he remembered. Or perhaps he was different, and therefore saw it differently. The beauty that Gorath had curated over three centuries seemed more obvious now.

More desperate.

The attempt of something immortal to fill the void of eternal existence with meaning.

Liam understood that impulse now in ways he hadn't three weeks ago.

"Punctual." Gorath's voice echoed from the fortress entrance. "I appreciate that in my guests."

The Arch-Demon emerged, massive and ancient, his burning eyes studying Liam with intensity that would have been uncomfortable before.

Now Liam met that gaze without flinching.

Something changed in Gorath's expression. Recognition, perhaps. Or confirmation of suspicions.

"You're different," the Arch-Demon said. Not a question. A statement.

"Yes."

"The reports said you summoned something from the Abyss. That it killed Grand Commander Orin while you watched. That afterward, your own soldiers bowed in worship that transcended strategy or gratitude."

"That's accurate."

Gorath descended the steps slowly, his ancient armor catching the volcanic light. He circled Liam once, studying him from every angle.

"Your Humanity Index," he said quietly. "How much remains?"

Liam didn't ask how Gorath knew about the System. The Demon Watcher saw more than most. Knew more than he should.

"Two percent."

Gorath stopped circling. His burning eyes held something that might have been pity or might have been respect.

"That's close to total loss," he said softly. "You understand that, yes? Two percent isn't human anymore. It's just memory. The ghost of what you were."

"I know."

"And you came here anyway. To collect on our accord. To demand truth from a demon who's been lying for three centuries." Gorath's smile was sharp. "You're either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish."

"Or I don't distinguish between the two anymore." Liam's voice was that wrong, ancient thing.

The voice that didn't quite belong to Liam Cross and wasn't quite the Primordial Demon.

"You promised me answers, Gorath. About Lilith. About the war. About why a queen smart enough to survive the Nine Houses would be stupid enough to start a losing war."

He stepped closer, and the temperature seemed to drop.

"I've secured Ashard. The Radiant Empire retreats. Your border is no longer bleeding." His grey eyes, flickering crimson at the edges, bored into Gorath's burning ones.

"So tell me, Demon Watcher. What truth was worth this price?"

Gorath studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he smiled.

"Come," he said, turning toward the fortress. "What you want to know isn't something I can explain in a courtyard. It requires context. History. Understanding of things older than this war."

He glanced back at Liam.

"And wine. What I'm about to tell you definitely requires wine."

They walked into the fortress together, and somewhere in Eldhar, Lilith waited for the return of a man who no longer existed.

The war had paused.

The retreat had bought time.

But the real performance, as Gorath had warned weeks ago, was only beginning.

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