The Throne Hall changed the moment the summons was accepted.
The crimson veins within the obsidian walls brightened, flowing faster, as if the castle itself sensed the gathering of power. Shadows stretched longer across the black stone floor, converging toward the center of the hall—toward the throne where Cain sat in silent authority.
He did not speak.
He did not need to.
One by one, the pillars of his empire answered.
First Marshal
A soft chill passed through the hall.
Moonlight—impossible within an enclosed throne room—seemed to manifest from nowhere as a woman emerged from the shadows. Her long, flowing dark hair framed a face of ethereal beauty, her crimson eyes calm, ancient, and endlessly calculating.
She wore sleek gothic armor with red accents, perfectly contoured, regal rather than martial. Shadows gathered beneath her feet, forming a throne-like silhouette as she stopped several steps before Cain.
She knelt gracefully.
"Lilith Darkrose," she said, her voice smooth like velvet soaked in blood.
"Lady of the Moonlit Court greets the Demon Emperor."
Cain regarded her steadily.
"Rise, Lilith."
She stood, her gaze meeting his without fear.
"The castle remains unchanged since your ascension," she said. "The Moonlit Court stands ready. My kind awaits your will."
Cain nodded.
"Your vigilance remains necessary. This world is new—but predators will come."
Lilith smiled faintly, revealing a hint of fang.
"Then they will learn what hunts in the dark."
Second Marshal
The temperature dropped sharply.
Frost crept across the obsidian floor, crackling softly as a towering figure strode forward. His armor glowed icy blue, frost clinging to his shoulders and cape, a constant blizzard swirling around him as if bound to his existence.
A crown of jagged ice shards hovered above his head.
His piercing blue eyes locked onto Cain.
He knelt, fist striking frozen stone.
"Glacier Monarch Eirwin," he declared.
"Ice Warden of your domain."
Cain's gaze was steady.
"The world beyond is unstable," Cain said. "Cold regions may emerge without warning."
Eirwin inclined his head.
"Then I shall claim them. Winter obeys me."
Cain allowed a brief nod.
"See that it does."
Third Marshal
Soft footsteps followed.
A figure of smaller stature approached—child-height, yet carrying a presence sharp enough to cut. Ebony skin bore elegant silver markings, glowing faintly beneath the throne hall's crimson light.
His luminous purple eyes were calm, calculating.
He knelt swiftly, respectfully.
"Kaelis Nightwind," he said.
"Silent Spear of the Dark."
Cain observed him closely.
"You command despite your age," Cain said.
Kaelis smiled faintly.
"Age dulls instinct. I was shaped for precision."
Cain's gaze sharpened.
"Then you will strike where others cannot."
Kaelis bowed his head.
"As you command, my Emperor."
Fourth Marshal
Heavy footsteps echoed.
A knight clad in perfectly crafted black armor stepped forward, dark runes glowing faintly across its surface. A flowing dark cloak followed behind him, and in his hand rested a massive demonic blade, subtle red fire pulsing along its edge.
From beneath the helmet, red eyes burned with disciplined fury. Curved horns were seamlessly integrated into the helm itself.
He dropped to one knee with absolute precision.
"Dreadblade Kaeroth," he said.
"Scourge of your enemies."
Cain met his gaze.
"The battlefield will change," Cain said. "Not all foes will fall to strength alone."
Kaeroth's grip tightened around his blade.
"Then I will adapt," he replied. "Until nothing stands."
Cain accepted the answer.
Fifth Marshal
The light dimmed.
No footsteps were heard.
A presence simply appeared—lean, wrapped in black leather armor, shadow tendrils drifting around his form like living smoke. Pale glowing eyes watched from beneath a hood, dual daggers resting loosely in his hands, dark vapor trailing from their edges.
He knelt silently.
"Shade Whisper Kairen," he said quietly.
"Silent Death."
Cain did not look away.
"Information and elimination," Cain said. "Which comes first?"
Kairen tilted his head.
"Whichever you desire," he replied. "The result is the same."
Cain nodded.
Sixth Marshal
Lyssandra Nightveil stepped forward last.
Her wings folded neatly as she knelt once more.
"Your intelligence network remains active," she said. "The land beyond the mirror is under observation."
Cain looked at her.
"Continue," he said simply.
Her lips curved faintly.
"Secrets are already forming."
Silence returned.
Six marshals stood before the throne.
Six pillars of conquest, defense, and dominion.
Cain rose.
"The world beyond our island exists," he said. "Soon, it will notice us."
Power rolled through the hall.
"Until then—prepare."
The marshals bowed in unison.
And then—
The air changed.
A cold, deathly presence flooded the throne hall.
Dark mist coiled across the floor as a towering skeletal figure emerged. Bone-crafted armor gleamed dully, blue flames burning within hollow eyes. A majestic crown of dark bone rested upon his skull.
Each step echoed like a funeral bell.
He stopped before the throne.
Did not kneel immediately.
Then—
Slowly—
He bowed.
"Mortis Darkbane," he intoned.
"Undead Sovereign answers the call."
Cain's gaze sharpened.
The Grand Marshal had arrived.
And with him—
The weight of inevitable war.
End of Chapter 3