Chapter 271: Shackles of Trust
The chamber was heavy with silence. The air itself felt brittle, as though the walls strained under the weight of Kael's decision.
At the center stood Zerathis, unchained yet towering, his molten eyes scanning the councilors who glared at him with equal parts fear and hatred. His form was monstrous, his shoulders broad enough to block torchlight, his horned head nearly brushing the carved beams overhead. The glow of his molten scars cast a faint, hellish shimmer across the walls.
Kael stood before him, arms folded, back rigid. Behind him were Lyria, Azhara, Rogan, and Varik. They did not speak, but their presence carried a wordless message: if Kael faltered, they would strike.
It was Saekaros who broke the silence, his voice sharp as steel.
"This is folly, Kael. You've brought that thing into our midst. One of the Ten Upper Daemons, sworn killers of empires, and you expect us to simply trust him because he knelt to you in the dust?"
Varik added, his voice quiet but firm, "Even if his chains are broken, his nature is not. Daemons don't bend without a plan. What happens when his loyalty turns?"
Azhara's arms were crossed, golden eyes steady on Zerathis. "I know daemon blood better than any of you. You're right to be wary. If he lies, he's a calamity waiting to happen."
The words struck, heavy and true.
Zerathis's molten eyes narrowed, his chest rumbling with a sound like a furnace stoking. His voice erupted, low and wrathful.
"Watch your tongues, mortals. I knelt when I could have slaughtered this hall. Do not mistake restraint for weakness. Do not—"
"Enough!"
Kael's voice cracked across the chamber like a whip. His chaos magic flared, the black-red aura searing the air. Zerathis's growl cut off instantly, though his teeth bared in a savage grin.
Kael stepped forward, looking up into the daemon's molten gaze without flinching.
"You kneel to me, Zerathis. And as long as you do, you answer to me. You'll keep your temper, or I'll put you back in chains myself."
For a tense heartbeat, the chamber seemed ready to collapse into bloodshed. Then Zerathis threw back his head and laughed, a deep, terrible sound that shook the stone.
"Very well, little king," he rumbled. "Have your say."
The council shifted uneasily, clearly unsettled that Kael's words had actually bound the daemon's fury.
Saekaros leaned forward, his voice like a blade.
"Then prove it. Show us your loyalty, Zerathis. Not words. Not posturing. Action."
A murmur of agreement spread through the chamber. Lyria's eyes narrowed, her hand brushing the hilt of her blade. "If he's to stay among us, Kael, he needs to earn it."
The Test of Loyalty
Kael weighed it for a moment, then gave a sharp nod. "Fine. You want proof? You'll have it."
He turned to Zerathis.
"You heard them. Show them where you stand."
The daemon's molten eyes gleamed with something between cruelty and amusement. "A test? A demonstration?" He rolled his shoulders, the sound of cracking stone echoing through the chamber. "So be it."
Rogan frowned. "And what, exactly, do you have in mind?"
Kael didn't answer. Zerathis did.
He reached out one clawed hand and gripped one of the thick iron support beams near the chamber wall. With a single wrench, the metal screamed and twisted. He ripped the entire beam from its mooring and bent it across his knee until it snapped in half like kindling. The sound of rending metal shook the chamber, and the council flinched back instinctively.
But that was not the end.
Zerathis dragged one claw across his chest, blood welling molten and black. With a guttural word in a tongue older than kingdoms, he pressed his bloodied claw into the broken beam. The metal hissed, glowed, and then melted into slag under his touch, dripping onto the stones below.
He turned back toward the council, grinning wickedly.
"Steel bends. Chains break. But I remain — and I remain to him." He jabbed a claw toward Kael. "As long as his strength holds, my oath is bound."
The room fell silent.
Not a soul dared breathe. Even the torches seemed to burn lower.
Kael's expression remained unreadable, but inside, he felt the enormity of it. The daemon had bound himself in front of all — not with mere words, but with fire, blood, and destruction.
It was brutal. Terrifying. And absolute.
Kael finally turned back to the council, his voice calm but unyielding.
"You wanted proof. Now you have it. He's mine. And through me, he serves the Hollow."
Zerathis bared his serrated teeth in a savage grin. "So it is written."