Nathan stood with Theo, silent, gripping the hilt of his sword. Veyra leaned against the wall nearby, her arm bandaged, pale but conscious again.
Sirah stormed back into the chamber, her usually composed face twisted in fury. "Lock down the city. No one in or out."
One of the War strategist, an older man with a scar running down his cheek, slammed his gauntlet on the table. "They've declared war, and then spit on our floors to disrespect us."
"No," corrected the Magic Councilor, a woman draped in runes and silver robes. "They've declared something worse. War implies rules. This was personal."
Nathan's hands twitched. He'd seen power today that made him feel small, not the Demonbound, but the Council. Each had wielded unimaginable power like it was the breath in their lungs, effortless and devastating.
Theo leaned over. "We're ants to them."
"Porbably," Nathan murmured. "But even ants bite when they're stepped on."
Sirah turned toward them. "You three. Briefing room. Now."
As they followed her out, the door shut behind them, silencing the shouting behind.
Sirah's eyes landed on Nathan. "I need full detail. What just happened?"
Theo nodded and started recounting. From the journey through the scorched trees, to the egg, to the Demonbound. When he reached the part where Nathan had unleashed the light, he paused.
"He used Light magic," Theo said slowly. "Powerful stuff. I didn't even know he had it."
Sirah's gaze flicked to Nathan. "That true?"
Nathan didn't flinch. "It's something I've been developing, based on Nova. A derivative. Through my class."
Veyra arched a brow but said nothing. Theo, after a beat, nodded slowly.
Sirah folded her arms. "Well, whatever you call it, it saved your lives. But it also just painted a target on your back." She turned to Veyra. "You okay?"
"Kind of," Veyra said. "Barely."
"Good. Because your team is now the only one that's been inside a Surnok nest and walked out breathing. That makes you valuable."
She stepped closer to the map table. On it were now marked multiple red zones: areas confirmed to have Scarspawn movement, Demon faction presence, and suspected Surnok trails.
"We'll be moving you three to Aramore. The front is shifting, and I need eyes there."
Nathan frowned. "Aramore? I thought it was just trade and outposts."
"Not anymore," Sirah said. "The Demonbound are advancing. The war has already begun."
A long silence followed.
Veyra, brushing soot from her sleeve, said it first. "So what now?"
Sirah didn't hesitate. "Now? You prepare. We're heading back to Aamore. NOW!"
________________________________________________________________________________
Nathan tightened the straps of his cloak as they stepped past a line of armored guards, Order-issued, but stationed under a different banner. Theo's eyes darted around. "Feels like a siege is about to start."
"No," Veyra murmured. "They're preparing for one."
Inside the Council Hall of Aramore, the floors gleamed but the warmth was gone. Rugs had been stripped away, replaced with cold, polished stone. Trade gates were replaced by ledgers of steel walls, magical ore shipments, and rune-forged armor inventories.
At the far end, seated beneath a carved arch of gold-inlaid marble, sat the Trade Representative.
He was an older man, draped in layered robes of deep blue and silver, every edge pressed sharp as a blade. A large gold gun laid at his hip like a tool, and a gleaming monocle sat fixed in one eye. His voice, when he finally spoke, echoed across the chamber like the judgment of a courtroom.
"You arrive late, soldiers," he said, not looking up. "But you arrive alive. A luxury, given your mission."
Nathan stepped forward. "Sir, the Surnok nest has been destroyed. But the Demonbound live. The forest is lost."
The Trade Representative finally raised his eyes. Cold. Calculating. "We received the preliminary report. The Council is in disarray, the Faith Representative is calling for holy retaliation, and now demons have declared open war." He rose from his chair. "Which means Aramore is no longer a neutral party."
Behind him, massive curtains unfurled with a mechanical clank. A map of the continent , once dotted with trade routes , now displayed red lines crossing through nations. Supply chains, choke points, targets. Factories were marked. Armories. Fortresses.
"This city will no longer traffic in gold and grain," he said. "We will traffic in steel, flame, and blood. Until the Demon faction is crushed."
Theo stepped forward. "And the people of Aramore?"
"They will adapt." The Representative narrowed his eyes. "Trade is about leverage, soldier. And right now, our leverage is forged in war."
Veyra scowled. "You're turning a city of peace into a war engine."
"It was never a city of peace," he replied coolly. "It was a city of survival. That has not changed."
The door opened behind them. A pair of scribes stepped in carrying weapon schematics — enchanted blades, explosive runes, energy-conductive armor. The Trade Representative gestured. "You three will help oversee production allocation. The Council believes your experience grants you… unique insight into our enemy."
"Oh, and by the way, My name is Lord Caelus Varn, the Vael of Greed".