It was a desperate, absurd suggestion.

"That would bankrupt the treasury," Archbishop Thaddeus said immediately.

"The ritual requires materials that are rare and expensive. Divine alignment that happens only during specific celestial events. Rushing the process could result in failed summonings or heroes who arrive damaged in ways that make them useless."

"But if successful," Theron continued, "we'd have overwhelming force. Twenty-one heroes deployed simultaneously would crush any resistance the demon empire could mount. Lord Azra—Primordial or pretender—couldn't stand against that kind of concentrated divine power."

"You're suggesting we gamble everything on a single massive summoning rather than methodical sequential development." General Casmir studied the large commander. "If it fails—if even half the summonings fail—we've wasted resources that could have been used for guaranteed sequential success."

"If we proceed sequentially and the demon empire attacks before we're ready, those future resources become irrelevant because we'll be fighting a defensive war on our own territory." Theron's logic was sound. Brutal, but sound. "The demons are consolidating. Their morale is high. Their military is unified under whatever Lord Azra represents. Every day we wait is a day they become stronger and more dangerous."

"So we rush the prophecy," Veyra said slowly. "Force the Twenty-One Heroes to manifest ahead of schedule. Commit to total war before the demons can mount offensive operations."

"Essentially."

Archbishop Thaddeus looked troubled.

"The prophecy is meant to unfold naturally. Divine will operating on divine timeline. Forcing it feels... presumptuous. As if we're telling our god that His pace is insufficient."

"Or," Matthias interjected, "we're recognizing that divine will operates through human action. The prophecy says twenty-one heroes will cleanse the demon empire. It doesn't specify timeline. Perhaps our aggressive acceleration is the divine will manifesting through our decision to act decisively."

The theological gymnastics were impressive.

Casmir could see Archbishop Thaddeus processing the argument, finding the loopholes that made forced acceleration feel like faithful obedience rather than presumptuous desperation.

"I'll consult with the Divine Council," Thaddeus said finally. "Present the case for acceleration. But understand—even if approved, the earliest we could complete mass summoning is four months. Possibly six if the celestial alignment proves unfavorable."

"Four months we may not have," Veyra said. "If the demons attack before then—"

"Then we defend with what we have. Matthias, three Grand Commanders, and conventional forces that outnumber demon military three to one." General Casmir's voice carried certainty he didn't entirely feel.

"We've studied demons for centuries. We know their tactics. Their weaknesses. One talented commander and religious fervor doesn't erase fundamental military realities."

"Unless that one talented commander is actually a Primordial Demon," Veyra countered. "Unless everything we think we know about demon capabilities is wrong because we've never faced their god before."

"Then we learn quickly and adapt accordingly." Casmir moved back to the window, looking out at Sanctum Lux's pristine beauty. "We've survived every attempted demon incursion for three hundred years. We'll survive this one."

"Orin thought the same thing." Matthias's voice was quiet but carried. "Right up until he disappeared without even managing to send warning that he was in danger."

The reminder silenced further debate.

Because that was the core issue everyone kept dancing around.

Grand Commander Orin had been competent, experienced, faithful. He'd gone to Ashard with clear mission: assess the demon lord, eliminate if possible, retreat and report if not.

And they'd gotten nothing.

No report. No retreat. Not even a brief magical communication saying "send help" before whatever killed him finished the job.

Just silence.

And silence from Orin suggested something so overwhelming, so unexpected, so fundamentally beyond their understanding that he'd died before realizing he needed to warn anyone.

"Meeting adjourned," General Casmir said finally. "Archbishop Thaddeus, consult with the Divine Council about accelerating the summonings. Grand Commanders, prep your territories and prepare defensive positions in case the demons attack before we're ready. Hero Matthias—"

"I'll continue training," Matthias finished. "And prepare for deployment if reconnaissance suggests Lord Azra is mortal enough to kill."

They filed out, leaving Casmir alone in the chamber with maps and reports and the uncomfortable knowledge that the war had changed in ways they were still discovering.

Three weeks ago, they'd been winning.

Now they were scrambling to understand what they were even fighting.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Enter."

The door opened to admit a young priest whose face was pale with urgency. "General Casmir. Intelligence from our embedded operative in Eldhar. Coded message. Highest priority."

Casmir took the sealed parchment, broke the wax, and read.

His expression didn't change. Decades of military discipline kept his face neutral even as the implications hit like physical blows.

"Thank you," he said calmly. "Dismissed."

The priest left, and Casmir read the message again. Then a third time, hoping the words would somehow change.

They didn't.

*LORD AZRA SUMMONING ALL HOUSE LEADERS AND LEGION COMMANDERS. THREE DAYS. RUMORS SUGGEST CONSOLIDATION OF ABSOLUTE MILITARY AUTHORITY. FOLLOW-UP INTELLIGENCE CONFIRMS NAMELESS LITANY GROWING EXPONENTIALLY. WITNESS REPORTS CLAIM MIRACLES PERFORMED—RESTORED SIGHT, HEALED CRIPPLED. FAITH ACCELERATING. RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE RESPONSE BEFORE DEMON EMPIRE ACHIEVES UNIFIED COMMAND UNDER SINGLE AUTHORITY.*

*FURTHER NOTE: POSSIBILITY EXISTS THAT DEMON LORD IS ACTUALLY HUMAN SOUL IN DEMON ROLE. VERIFICATION ONGOING.*

Casmir set the message down carefully.

Human soul in demon role.

What a joke.

The implications were staggering.

If Lord Azra was actually human—a summoned soul like their own heroes—then the demon empire had accomplished something the Radiant Empire thought impossible.

They'd summoned a hero of their own.

One powerful enough to open Hell, kill Grand Commanders, and convince an entire civilization he was their god returned.

Which meant the prophecy wasn't the only summoning magic in play.

Which meant the demons had access to power the Radiant Empire thought was exclusively theirs.

Which meant everything they'd assumed about strategic superiority was wrong.

Casmir walked back to the window, looking out at Sanctum Lux, and allowed himself one moment of honest assessment.

If the Primordial demon was real, or a summoned human was leading the Empire as him.

They were going to lose.

Not today. Not tomorrow. But eventually, inevitably, they were going to lose.

Because the demons had found their own hero. Their own divine champion. Their own force that could match or exceed anything the Radiant Empire fielded.

And unlike the Radiant Empire's careful, methodical, resource-intensive hero summoning...

The demons had done it desperately. And somehow succeeded beyond anyone's ability to explain.

He'd keep this analysis private. Would continue doing his duty. Would prepare defenses and coordinate strategies and maintain the facade that the Radiant Empire was still winning.

But standing in that chamber, holding intelligence that terrified him, General Casmir Valente allowed himself to acknowledge one private truth.

The war could be lost.

They just didn't know it yet.

And when the demon empire attacked—when Lord Azra marched with unified legions and absolute authority and faith that made soldiers fight beyond rational limits—the Radiant Empire would discover that prophecy meant nothing against gods who'd decided to take action.

Three days until Lord Azra consolidates power.

Six weeks until Second Hero arrives.

Four months until mass summoning possible.

General Casmir stood alone at his window, watching the sun set over the most beautiful city in the world.

And knowing that beauty wouldn't matter when the demons came.

Because gods didn't care about aesthetics.

They cared about conquest.

And the Primordial Demon—human soul or divine entity—had just begun preparing for exactly that.

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