CHAPTER FORTY- TWO
The Main Castle stood at the heart of Avalon's capital, its towering black walls rising above the surrounding buildings.
Its enormous gates opened as the carriage approached.
Guards straightened.
Soldiers lowered their heads.
The carriage rolled through the courtyard before stopping at the entrance to the council hall.
Damiel stepped out first.
His men followed.
As they walked through the long corridors, guards pressed their right hands to their chests and bowed deeply. The maids lowered their heads, bowing deeply.
The great doors of the council hall opened from within.
Damiel entered, followed by his men.
The servants withdrew immediately, closing the doors behind them.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the hall fell silent.
Every conversation stopped.
At the far end sat King Eldron, his expression stern beneath the dark crown resting upon his head.
Beside him sat Queen Alvira, whose elegance did little to conceal her contempt for Damiel—or her resentment of the power he wielded.
To the King side sat Crown Prince Arkes and Prince Vaelor.
The generals of Avalon's battalions stood along one side of the hall, while the Council of Elders occupied their places around the long black table.
Everyone who had been summoned was present.
Damiel surveyed the room.
Good. Everyone is here.
The generals and elders rose.
"Welcome back, Commander."
"Welcome back, Prince Damiel."
He acknowledged them with a slight nod before taking his seat opposite the king.
Kael, Roan, and Zaiel sat close to him.
Damiel placed one hand on the table and rested the other on his lap.
"Let's begin."
Arkes leaned back in his chair.
"Already? You've barely returned, little brother. I thought you might at least enjoy a moment of peace before dragging everyone into a meeting."
Damiel did not look at him.
Arkes smiled.
"Unless, of course, you've gathered us to announce another victory."
Silence.
Damiel slowly lifted his gaze.
"I asked for the king, the generals, and the Council of Elders."
His eyes settled on Arkes.
"I don't recall requesting unnecessary extras."
A few elders lowered their heads, concealing their expressions.
Arkes's smile disappeared.
"What did you say?"
Damiel regarded him with the same indifference he might show an irritating insect.
"If the description bothers you..."
He leaned back slightly.
"...you should question why it suits you."
"You insolent—",
"How dare you insult the future king of Avalon!" Queen Alvira snapped.
Damiel turned toward her.
His expression did not change.
"Another unnecessary extra."
His gaze returned to the front of the hall.
"Interrupting matters she cannot comprehend."Queen Alvira fumed with anger.
"If you're desperate to make yourself useful, Crown Prince, try listening. It may be the first worthwhile thing you've done today."
Arkes's face hardened.
Queen Alvira was seething with pure rage.
"How dare you speak to the Crown Prince and the Queen of Avalon that way?" Prince Vealor said irritation evident in his tone.
Damiel turned his head toward him.
"Must the three of you keep reminding me why silence is preferable?"
Alvira's eyes widened.
"You—"
King Eldron struck his fist against the armrest.
"Enough!"
The sound echoed through the hall.
His gaze settled on Damiel.
"Why have you summoned us? Give your report. What happened in the north?"
Damiel leaned back, entirely unbothered by the interruption.
"On our way to the north we were ambushed by werewolves."
The room immediately became attentive.
"They were unusually coordinated," he continued. "Their movements were precise. Their attacks were timed. They behaved less like a pack and more like an army following a single command, and even when they spoke,they did like they were being commanded to." Damiel said.
One of the elders frowned.
"Were they allied with another realm?"
"Yes... and no."
The elder looked confused.
Damiel continued before he could ask another question.
"After examining the battlefield and engaging them directly, I discovered they weren't acting on their own behalf. They were pawns."
Vaelor let out a short laugh.
"Interesting. I recall you saying werewolves were too prideful to submit to anyone. Now you claim they were nothing more than pawns?"
Damiel turned toward him.
"If you spent less time talking and more time listening, you'd understand the difference between bait..."
He paused, as he used his hands to weigh them.
"...and pawns."
Vaelor's smile faded.
Damiel turned away without another glance.
"They weren't simply following orders. They were being controlled."
The hall quieted.
King Eldron leaned forward, his attention fully captured.
"Controlled by whom?"
Damiel's silver eyes swept across the room.
"An Ancient Demon."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Arkes laughed.
"An Ancient Demon? So one of our own elders has decided to play games behind your back?"
Vaelor joined him.
Queen Alvira's lips curved into a faint, mocking smile.
"Perhaps the north has unsettled you more than we thought, Prince Damiel."
Damiel did not move.
But the atmosphere changed.
The temperature seemed to drop.
His eyes darkened.
"Interrupt me again," he said softly, "and I will have you removed from this hall."
He paused.
"And if you return before I permit it, I will make certain you never sit at this table again."
Nobody laughed, his voice was calm but that was what made it even more terrifying.
Damiel's gaze lingered on each of them.
"Have I made myself clear?"
Arkes's jaw tightened.
Vaelor looked away.
Queen Alvira slowly settled back into her seat.
They didn't need to respond with words.
An elderly council member finally spoke.
"Commander, with respect, no Ancient Demon in Avalon would betray the kingdom. Our ancestors have protected these lands for centuries."
Damiel's gaze shifted toward him.
"I don't mean an Ancient Demon of Avalon."
He allowed the words to settle before continuing.
"I meant an actual ancient demon. A Fallen Angel."
The reaction was immediate.
Chairs scraped against the floor.
One of the generals abruptly rose.
"When? Where? Why? How?"
Another elder muttered a curse beneath his breath.
Queen Alvira face was contoured with shock and disbelief.
Prince Arkes and Prince Vealor both looked at each other with utter shock.
Even King Eldron's expression changed.
A Fallen Angel.
An enemy from an age most demons knew only through fragments of ancient history.
Among the demons of Avalon, the term Ancient Demon was often used to refer to the oldest and most revered members of their kind. Their elders were regarded as living links to the kingdom's distant past.
But a Fallen Angel was something else entirely.
A creature of an age so distant that many considered its existence little more than a legend.
For such a being to appear in the north—and openly declare war—was beyond anything the council had anticipated.
Roan, who had remained unusually quiet, leaned back slightly.
"That was more or less my reaction when he told us."
Several eyes turned toward him.
Roan shrugged.
"What? I asked the same questions."
Damiel ignored him.
"The creature controlled the werewolves. It had no intention of allowing us to discover its presence until it was ready."
A general frowned, visibly shaken, stood as he asked.
"How certain are you that it was a Fallen Angel? It could have been something else entirely."
Kael spoke this time, he knew how hard it was to believe such a news.
"It tampered with the minds of every demon on the battlefield."
He paused.
"Every demon except the Commander." Kael continued.
A low murmur spread across the hall.
"Except Prince Damiel?"
"What does that mean?"
"How could it control everyone but him?"
Kael's expression remained unchanged.
"Some of us bled while trying to resist it. The longer we remained under its influence, the worse it became." Kael concluded.
Roan's usual amusement had vanished,as he spoke.
"It controlled every werewolf prese
He glanced around the table.
"They stood like puppets, moving in unison, barely doing anything that wasn't commanded of them. Even their breathing seemed synchronized."
A few council members exchanged uneasy looks.
Zaiel leaned forward.
"The creature appeared to know where we would be. It wasn't merely reacting to our movements. It seemed to be waiting for us,from the moment we were first ambushed."
One of the generals frowned.
"You believe your route was known in advance?"
"It was always one step ahead of us," Zaiel replied. "It was as though he knew our intentions before we acted."
Damiel gave a small nod.
"Agreed."
He paused.
"And most importantly..."
His gaze sharpened.
"It spoke to me."
King Eldron's eyes narrowed.
"Spoke?"
"Through a mind link."
Silence returned.
Among demons, mind links were a recognized means of communication. But they were not something just anyone could establish. A connection required a degree of compatibility, power, or a shared nature that made such contact possible.
For a creature to establish one with Damiel under those circumstances was troubling enough.
For it to have done so while controlling an entire battlefield was far worse.
Damiel continued.
"There's more, it has declared war on us."
He allowed the statement to settle.
"It made one thing very clear."
His gaze swept across the hall.
"The capital is its battlefield."
Nobody moved.
The words settled over the room like a death sentence.