Caelen simply watched him, a faint, knowing glint in his crimson eyes. He didn't need to posture or threaten. His very existence was the threat, and the command.
Silas, the arrogant prince, had been instantly reduced to a trembling supplicant by the simple, unconscious aura of the demon standing before him.
The hall was silent except for Silas's ragged breathing. Elunara and Seralyth observed, their expressions unreadable but intensely focused. This was a shift in the fundamental power dynamic, and they were witnessing its birth.
"You wanted answers," Caelen said, his voice calm, almost conversational, yet it carried the weight of his [Primordial Authority]. It wasn't a question.
Silas managed a jerky nod, his eyes still wide with a terror he couldn't control.
