"House Kraz'gul commands forty percent of imperial military forces. Veteran legions who've bled for this empire for generations. You demand we subordinate that power to central authority without negotiation or terms."

"Yes."

"That's unacceptable."

"Then leave." Liam's voice was cold. "Walk out of this hall. Return to your territories. And discover what happens to Houses that place their pride above imperial survival."

———

Mordain's jaw tightened. His hands flexed.

For moment, genuine violence hung in the air—possibility that Patriarch of House Kraz'gul might actually attack the Primordial Demon rather than accept humiliation.

Then Valorix Kraz'gul stepped forward.

"Father. We discussed this."

"We discussed many things." Mordain's voice was tight.

"We discussed survival." Valorix's voice carried quiet intensity. "House Kraz'gul survives by recognizing when resistance is futile. This is one of those moments."

The younger Kraz'gul turned to Liam, met his grey eyes directly, and spoke with military precision.

"House Kraz'gul acknowledges central military authority. Our legions answer to imperial command. Our resistance ends here."

It was political suicide for Valorix—directly contradicting his father in public. But it was also survival instinct recognizing that continued resistance would be literal suicide for entire House.

Mordain looked at his son with expression between rage and recognition.

Then, slowly, he nodded. "House Kraz'gul complies. Under protest. But we comply."

Two major Houses down. One remaining.

Patriarch Veridia Zarthus stood with venomous grace, her amber eyes boring into Liam with intensity that promised future violence even as she calculated present necessities.

"House Zarthus recognizes military realities," she said carefully. "We acknowledge that unified command serves immediate imperial interests. Our forces will answer to central authority."

Her compliance was grudging. Minimal. But compliance nonetheless.

Which left only House Drak'mor.

Archon Malzeth had been silent throughout entire assembly, his dark-scaled face unreadable.

House Drak'mor controlled northern territories—harsh lands that required brutal leadership to maintain.

They were smaller than Zarthus or Kraz'gul but more ruthless. More willing to embrace violence that other Houses considered excessive.

Malzeth stood slowly, and his voice carried contempt that other House leaders had been careful to mask.

"No."

The single word echoed through the Grand Hall.

"House Drak'mor does not acknowledge this farce. Does not accept that summoned creature—regardless of power—has authority to dismantle structures that predate this failing queen by centuries." Malzeth's voice was steady. Absolute. "I'll not bow to a pretender god. I'll not subordinate my House to this weapon Lilith summoned in desperate gambit. And I'll not participate in tyranny dressed as military necessity."

He looked directly at Liam.

"You want my compliance? Take it by force. Prove you're god rather than simply a talented commander. Until then, House Drak'mor refuses your authority."

Liam didn't expect this, after the last Council meeting he had stabilized the council belief at seventy percent.

He knew that didn't necessarily mean they believed he was the Primordial demon, but it was enough to know better than challenge him foolishly.

The Grand Hall held collective breath.

Every demon present recognized moment of ultimate confrontation. Malzeth had just called the bluff.

Had demanded Liam prove his divinity through direct action rather than political maneuvering.

Liam was quiet for moment, studying Archon Malzeth with expression that suggested genuine curiosity rather than anger.

Then he spoke, and his voice carried weight that made the hall's temperature seem to drop.

"You want proof of divinity? You want demonstration that I'm not just talented commander?" His grey eyes flickered crimson. "Very well."

He activated [Absolute Command], the upgraded version of Primordial Authority that allowed complex instructions to multiple targets.

His gaze swept across three of the seven legion commanders who'd pledged oaths earlier—Torven, Kael'dris, and Vor'mak. Veterans.

Loyal soldiers who'd served the empire for decades.

"Kill him."

The command hit all three simultaneously with physical force.

Their eyes widened—not with surprise at the order, but at the intensity of compulsion that made their bodies move before their minds could process.

They moved before most demons could register what was happening.

One moment the three legion commanders stood at attention.

The next they were converging on Malzeth from three different angles, their movements synchronized with the terrible precision of soldiers executing orders they couldn't refuse.

Malzeth had time to realize what was coming.

Time to raise his hands defensively. Time to understand that resistance was futile.

Not enough time to escape.

Commander Torven reached him first, his clawed hand striking like a blade through Malzeth's chest from the side.

Commander Kael'dris attacked from behind, her strike severing the Archon's spine with brutal efficiency.

Commander Vor'mak's blow came last, punching through ribs to tear out Malzeth's heart with mechanical precision.

The entire execution took less than three seconds.

The wet sounds of flesh tearing echoed through the silent hall.

Malzeth's body jerked between the three commanders like a puppet with cut strings, his eyes wide with shock and betrayal.

Vor'mak withdrew his hand, and clutched in his grip was Malzeth's still-beating heart.

The Archon of House Drak'mor swayed between the three legion commanders.

Tried to speak. Failed.

Then collapsed forward, his body hitting the obsidian floor with a sound like finality.

The three legion commanders stood over the corpse, their expressions showing horror at what they'd just done - what they'd been compelled to do - even as their bodies remained perfectly still, awaiting further orders.

Vor'mak stared at the heart in his hand, his face pale with the realization that he'd just executed a House leader without any choice in the matter.

The Grand Hall erupted.

Lesser lords gasping.

House representatives backing away.

Even the other legion commanders—veterans of brutal combat—looked shaken by the casual execution and the terrible demonstration of how absolute a Primordial's Authority truly was.

Liam's voice cut through the chaos.

"Silence."

The command wasn't shouted. Didn't need to be.

[Sovereign's Dominion] enforced it, the pressure becoming crushing enough that speaking felt like physical labor.

Sixty-two demons—minus one—fell silent.

"Archon Malzeth questioned my authority," Liam said calmly. "Demanded proof. Required demonstration. I provided both through three legion commanders who pledged oaths of service earlier—oaths that made them instruments of my will as absolutely as any demon present will be going forward."

He looked at the three commanders, still frozen where they stood.

"You may stand down. You followed orders perfectly."

The release from compulsion was visible. All three staggered slightly, their bodies returning to their own control.

Vor'mak dropped the heart immediately, his hands shaking. Torven's jaw was clenched tight enough to crack teeth. Kael'dris looked like she might be sick.

But they'd done it.

Executed a House leader because Primordial Authority made refusal impossible.

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