The Elders’ Wrath

A suffocating force pressed down on Evelyne's chest as the darkness around them moved. It wasn't mere shadow—it was alive, sentient, and filled with a power far beyond anything she had felt before.

The presence in the chamber was overwhelming, ancient, and filled with unspoken menace. It was as if the air itself had turned against them.

Azrael stepped in front of Evelyne, his golden eyes narrowing. The energy around him shifted, dark tendrils of his own magic curling from his fingertips.

"You should not have come here, Demon King."

The voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once, deep and resonant, layered with a dozen others. The Elders were not physically here, but their presence was undeniable.

Azrael's lips curled into a cold, humorless smile. "And yet, here I am."

A ripple of power spread through the room. The floating orbs of light flickered violently before shattering, plunging them into near-total darkness. Only the eerie glow from the black stone tablets remained.

Evelyne forced herself to stand tall. "What are you hiding?" she demanded, her voice steadier than she felt.

A deep chuckle resonated through the chamber, vibrating through the stone itself.

"So many questions… but you were never meant to ask them."

The shadows thickened, coiling around them like a predator waiting to strike.

Azrael didn't hesitate. He raised a hand, his magic surging outward in a wave of raw energy. The darkness recoiled, but not entirely. The Elders' power was stronger here, deeply rooted in the very foundation of the fortress.

"You have overstepped, Azrael."

Another pulse of power erupted from the shadows, slamming into them like a tidal wave. Evelyne stumbled back, her vision flashing white for a brief moment. Azrael barely flinched, but she could feel the weight of the magic pressing down on him, testing his limits.

"The pact must not be questioned."

Evelyne's breath hitched. "The pact…" Her mind raced back to the spirit's warning. Lies. Deception.

Azrael's jaw clenched. "Why?" His voice was ice. "What are you so afraid of?"

Silence.

Then—

"Leave now, Demon King, and forget what you have seen. Or suffer the consequences."

A test. A warning.

Evelyne's heart pounded. She looked at Azrael, expecting him to back down. After all, the Elders were not enemies he could simply strike down like any other opponent.

But instead—

Azrael smirked.

It was the kind of smirk that sent a chill down her spine. Not because it was reckless, but because it was dangerous.

"You fear me," he said simply. "That's why you won't strike me down here and now."

The shadows shifted violently. The pressure in the air increased, but Azrael did not waver.

Evelyne watched, her pulse racing. He was taunting them. Testing them.

And the Elders did not like it.

"You are treading on dangerous ground, Azrael."

The chamber trembled. The bookshelves rattled, the stone beneath their feet cracked.

"Leave now."

Azrael met Evelyne's gaze. He didn't have to say anything. She understood. They had gotten what they came for—the proof that something was being hidden.

But they would not find all their answers here.

Not yet.

Azrael turned sharply, tucking the thin black book under his arm. He lifted his hand and, with a single motion, unleashed a burst of power that shattered the locking spell on the doors.

The iron doors slammed open.

Evelyne barely had time to react before Azrael grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. They moved quickly, stepping out into the corridor just as the chamber behind them collapsed into itself, swallowed by darkness.

The doors vanished.

As if the chamber had never existed at all.

Evelyne gasped for breath, her heart hammering. She turned back, but there was nothing—just smooth, unbroken stone where the doors had once been.

Azrael remained still beside her, his grip on the book tight. His golden eyes flickered with something unreadable.

"That," Evelyne panted, "was insane."

Azrael didn't answer. His gaze was still locked on the now-vanished chamber. Then, after a long moment, he turned and started walking.

Evelyne hurried after him. "Where are we going?"

"My chambers," he said simply. "Somewhere they can't listen."

The halls were quiet as they moved, but Evelyne couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them. The Elders had let them leave, but not without a price.

There would be consequences.

When they reached Azrael's private chambers, he sealed the door with a barrier of dark energy before finally setting the book down.

Evelyne stared at it. "It's written in Solmere's language."

Azrael nodded. "Which means it was never meant for demon eyes."

Evelyne's stomach twisted. "Then how did it end up in the Elders' possession?"

Azrael didn't answer immediately. He flipped the book open, scanning the pages. His eyes darkened.

Evelyne moved closer. The writing was old, the ink faded. But as she read, her blood ran cold.

"Upon the blood of the firstborn, the pact shall be bound."

Her breath hitched. "What does that mean?"

Azrael's gaze sharpened. "Firstborn…" His fingers tapped against the page. "This isn't about just any royal bloodline." He looked up at her, golden eyes intense. "It's about yours."

Evelyne's pulse quickened. "Mine?"

Azrael turned to the next page. More faded text, more cryptic words. But then—

A symbol.

A crest Evelyne knew all too well.

Her family's crest.

The symbol of Solmere's royal house.

She staggered back. "No…"

Azrael's voice was quiet. "The pact wasn't just about preventing war." His fingers tightened around the book. "It was about you from the very beginning."

A chill swept through Evelyne's bones. The spirit's warning. The Elders' secrecy. The destruction of Veythar.

None of this had been an accident.

Someone had set this all in motion long before she was even born.

And she had just stepped into the center of it.