The smoldering crater in the flagstone was the period at the end of Liam's question.
Am I worth your dagger, partner?
Lilith's dangerous smile didn't fade.
A terrifying smile, the kind she reserved for a worthy rival, not a pawn. She rose from her seat, a slow uncoiling of power that commanded the space around her.
"You improvised." She acknowledged.
"You expected me to die." Liam voice returned swiftly and cold.
"Both outcomes had value." Her smile grew wider, an unnerving calculation behind them.
Her honesty threw him off. "You find this amusing?" He asked, eyes narrowed at her.
"Because, Liam Cross, for the first time, I almost believed you were who you said you were."
She glanced toward Eri and Kraz.
"Leave us," her voice soft but absolute.
Kraz, his armor still smoking faintly, gave a stiff bow and melted back into the shadows of the corridor from which he'd come.
Eri scurried after him, casting one last, wide-eyed glance at Liam before disappearing.
The courtyard was now theirs alone.
Lilith paced a slow circle around the crater, her gaze fixed on the vitrified stone.
"Hell's Flame, a foundational technique of the old texts. Theorized, but never witnessed outside of a handful of ancient, likely exaggerated, scrolls." She stopped and finally looked at him, her golden eyes piercing. "And you manifest it on your first attempt. With control."
Liam said nothing.
He kept his posture relaxed, his breathing even, despite the adrenaline still singing in his veins and the noticeable dip in his Essence reserve.
The display had cost him, but the returns were already visible in her altered demeanor.
[Lilith Zevra / Demon Queen]
[Emotional State: Calculated Reassessment.]
[Belief: 7% → 15%]
[Loyalty: 0% → 2%]
The numbers were still pitifully low, but the jump was significant. It wasn't belief in him as a god, but belief in him as an asset.
A dangerously potent one.
"You asked me a question," Lilith said, stopping directly in front of him. "Is this a partnership?"
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that was more threatening than any shout.
"Partners do not keep secrets that could get the other killed. What are you, Liam Cross? A lucky human with a knack for mimicry? Or is there something else nesting inside that fragile shell?"
The directness of the question was a test in itself. Liam met her gaze, the slate in his eyes refusing to crack. He had prepared for this.
"You know what I am," he replied, his voice equally low. "A man. An actor. But you also know what I am becoming...what i must become. You held the chisel yourself. The 'how' is my business. Our mutual survival is ours."
He gestured to the crater. "This is the product. The source is irrelevant. You need a god. I am constructing one, piece by piece. Interfere with the process, and you get a useless human. Foster it, and you get… more of that."
Lilith's smile finally vanished, replaced by an expression of cool, analytical intensity.
She was weighing his words, measuring his defiance against his utility.
"Foster it," she repeated. "You want resources. Training."
"I want a stage," Liam corrected. "And an audience. The Council of Houses in three days is the perfect opening night. But I cannot walk in there having just learned to light a candle. I need to project an aura of established power, not nascent potential."
He was speaking her language now. The language of strategy and perception.
"What is it you propose?" she asked, a flicker of genuine curiosity breaking through her regal facade.
"The Black Mountain Dagger gave me a core. My process—gives me the skills," he said, deliberately using a term she could project her own meaning onto. "But it requires fuel. Essence. The fear and belief of others. The more potent the source, the greater the gain."
He let that hang in the air between them. He was no longer just a passive recipient of her schemes; he was presenting a business proposal.
"You want me to feed you my subjects," Lilith stated, her tone unreadable.
"I want you to provide me with opportunities to prove my 'divinity'," Liam countered. "Controlled environments. A chance to hone these new… abilities… before I am thrown to the wolves. A few more sessions like the one with Kraz, but with a larger, more impressionable audience."
Lilith was silent for a long moment, her eyes searching his. The 2% Loyalty on his screen felt terrifyingly fragile.
"Very well," she said finally, straightening up. "A partnership. Of a sort. I will provide your stage and your audience. You will provide the spectacle. But understand this, partner." The word was a barb. "The moment your growth becomes a threat to my crown, the moment your secrets endanger my people, our arrangement ends. Permanently."
It was the clearest threat she had ever issued.
[New Directive Unlocked: "The Sovereign's Gambit"]
[Requirement: Maintain perceived utility to Lilith Zevra above threat level.]
[Failure Condition: Threat Level > Utility = Execution Probability 99%.]
Liam gave a slow, single nod. "Understood."
"Good," Lilith said, her smile returning, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Then our first order of business. The Faithful of the Nameless Litany. Their devotion is pure, and therefore, a potent fuel. You will grant them an audience. A blessing. You will stoke their faith into an inferno."
She turned to leave, her white hair flowing behind her like a banner. "Rest. Heal. The maid will bring you something for the pain. The real work begins at dusk."
As her footsteps faded, Liam finally allowed himself to exhale.
He looked down at his hands—the hands that had just wielded hellfire. The hands that were now shaking without fear but only the raw, terrifying thrill of power.
He had stared down the Demon Queen and not just survived, but negotiated a new terms of engagement.
He had 13 Evolution Points and a rising Infamy.
The pretender was building his throne, one smoldering crater at a time.
[Essence: 366]
[Evolution Points: 13]
[Infamy: Notorious Tier]
[New Objective: Address the Faithful of the Nameless Litany. Convert Devotion → Essence.]
[Reward: Tactical Features]