"The war," Liam said slowly. "You said she started it for glory. To secure her throne."

"Yes." Gorath's expression darkened. "Which brings us to the second truth. But that's a different conversation. First, you need to understand who Lilith is. What she's fighting. Why every decision she makes is shaped by the knowledge that she rules at the sufferance of demons who'd prefer her dead."

He stood, walking to a shelf. Retrieved an object wrapped in dark cloth.

"King Azareth gave Lilith something before he died. Something none of the Houses know about. Something even I only learned about through channels I'm not supposed to have."

He unwrapped the cloth, revealing a journal. Ancient. Pages yellowed with age and stained with what looked like blood.

"His personal writings. From the final year." Gorath opened it, his massive claws surprisingly gentle with the delicate pages.

"Listen to this."

He read, his voice taking on a different quality. Softer. Almost reverent.

"I have failed my daughter. Not through weakness—weakness can be forgiven. Not through foolishness—foolishness can be corrected. I have failed her through the simple reality that survival required sacrifice, and I chose to sacrifice her future rather than her life.

The Houses circle like carrion birds. They know I'm dying. They know Mordren was the strong choice—the one who could have commanded through fear. They know Kael'thos was the charismatic one—who could have united through inspiration. And they know Lilith is neither.

She is better than both. Smarter. More adaptable. More capable of the impossible calculations required to rule an empire that survives on sin.

But demons do not value intelligence. They value strength. And I don't have enough years remaining to change that.

So I make the deals. I give away pieces of her inheritance. I bankrupt the crown. I cede power I spent four centuries accumulating. And I do it knowing that I'm creating a hell for her to walk into.

But at least she'll be walking. At least she'll have a chance.

I pray—to whatever gods demons pray to—that she forgives me. That she understands I had no choice. That sacrifice was the only path that didn't end in her corpse beside her brothers."

Gorath closed the journal gently.

"That's who Lilith is, Liam. The daughter of a desperate king who chose to damn her future rather than lose her present. The queen who inherited a crown purchased with humiliation and held together through sheer refusal to break."

He set the journal down.

"She summoned you—summoned a human soul—because she'd exhausted every other option. Because the Nine Houses were circling again. Because the war she'd started out of desperation had backfired catastrophically. Because she needed a miracle and couldn't afford to wait for one to arrive naturally."

His burning eyes held Liam's.

"You think she's using you. Manipulating you. Playing games with your life because it's convenient." Gorath's voice was soft.

"You're right. She is. But understand what it cost her to make that choice. Understand that summoning you was the act of someone who'd calculated every other possibility and found them all ending in her death."

"Why are you telling me this?" Liam asked quietly.

"Because you're about to hear the second truth. The one about the war. The one about why she started it." Gorath's expression was grim. "And I need you to understand that every terrible decision Lilith has made was shaped by the knowledge that she rules an empire that was doomed for destruction before she even took the throne."

He poured more wine. Drank deeply.

"I need you to understand that she's not playing games. She's drowning. And you're the last piece of driftwood in an ocean that wants her dead."

Liam looked at his own wine. Still untouched. The purple liquid seemed darker now. Heavier.

"She told me the Primordial Demon was a lie," he said. "A necessary fiction passed down through sovereigns to inspire hope."

"She told you part of the truth." Gorath's voice was careful. "The full truth is worse. But that's tomorrow's conversation."

"Why not now?"

"Because what I'm about to tell you tomorrow will change how you see this war. This empire. Your role in it." Gorath's burning eyes were ancient and tired.

"Tonight, I needed you to understand who you're working for. Who summoned you. Who you've been performing for."

He gestured to the journal.

"King Azareth's final entry was written three days before he died. Would you like to hear it?"

Liam found himself nodding despite not being sure he wanted to know.

Gorath opened to the last page. Read slowly, carefully, his voice carrying weight that made the air feel heavy.

"Tomorrow I announce succession. Tomorrow Lilith becomes Queen. Tomorrow I condemn my daughter to a hell I can't protect her from.

I've done everything I can. Made every deal. Sacrificed every advantage. Given away pieces of an empire I spent four centuries building.

And it won't be enough.

The Houses will test her. They'll push. They'll probe for weakness. And when they find it—and they will find it, because she's only one demon against nine—they'll strike.

I wish I could tell her the full truth. About the Primordial. About the real reason the Radiant Empire exists. About the cycle we're trapped in.

But some truths are too heavy for anyone to carry. Even queens.

So I die with my secrets. I die knowing I've failed her. I die hoping that somehow, impossibly, she'll be strong enough to survive what I couldn't fix.

Forgive me, Lilith. For the throne I'm giving you. For the empire I've broken. For the future I couldn't secure.

I failed you.

But at least you'll live.

That has to be enough."

Gorath closed the journal. Set it down with finality.

The silence that followed was absolute.

Liam sat with the weight of what he'd heard. Understanding crystallizing into something that felt like lead in his chest.

Lilith wasn't the desperate queen making bad decisions.

She was the daughter who'd inherited an impossible situation and spent tenyears refusing to break under it.

She'd started a war not from ambition but from calculation. Maybe it was a desperate gamble to prove strength she didn't have?

To command respect through victory because commanding through fear alone had stopped working?

And when that gambled failed, when the war turned catastrophic, when the Nine Houses circled again...

She'd summoned him.

A human soul. A desperate man who'd been dying in another world. Someone with nothing to lose and everything to prove.

Someone who could play the role of god because he had no choice.

"Tomorrow," Gorath said quietly, "I'll tell you about the war. About why it had to happen. About what Lilith was really fighting for."

He looked at Liam with those ancient eyes.

"Tonight, I needed you to understand that you're not the only one performing. That Lilith has been playing a role for ten years. That every terrible choice she's made was shaped by inheriting an empire that was already broken."

"Why does this matter?" Liam's voice was that wrong, ancient thing. "Why does her past change anything?"

"Because understanding why someone is drowning changes whether you try to save them or let them sink." Gorath's smile was sad. "And because tomorrow, when I tell you what she's actually fighting for, you're going to have to decide if you're still willing to be her weapon."

He stood, walking toward the door.

"Rest, Lord Azra. Tomorrow's truth is heavier than tonight's. And you'll need all your strength—what remains of it—to carry what comes next."

Liam remained seated. Staring at the journal. At the words of a desperate king who'd sacrificed everything to give his daughter a chance.

Understanding, for the first time, why Lilith looked at him with that mix of desperation and calculation.

She wasn't using him because it was convenient.

He was the last desperate gamble of someone who'd run out of other options.

[Humanity Index: 2%]

Two percent wasn't enough to feel sympathy.

But it was enough to understand.

And somehow, that was worse.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.