The comfortable weight of Igar's Shard strapped to his back was a small comfort the next day, a private secret in a room thick with open disdain.
Lilith had summoned him to a strategy room – a functional, austere space a world away from the cathedral-like armory.
Since entering Liam could feel a simmering resentment that was almost tangible.
Standing before a large, worn table were three demons who looked less like soldiers and more like embodiments of the front line.
The System painted their skepticism in cold, hard data before a single word was spoken.
[Commander Koth]
[Emotional State: Cynical Resignation. Suppressed Rage.]
[Belief: -5%]
[Loyalty (to Crown): 42%]
[Lieutenant Varg]
[Emotional State: Open Hostility.]
[Belief: -15%]
[Loyalty (to Crown): 43%]
[Lieutenant Zara]
[Emotional State: Analytical Disdain.]
[Belief: 0%]
[Loyalty (to Crown): 28%]
Negative belief, Liam noted silently. They don't just doubt. They actively disbelieve.
Commander Koth was a mountain of scarred, rust-red hide, one horn snapped short. His eyes, the color of cooled magma, held a weary exhaustion that went deeper than bone.
He didn't bow as Liam and Lilith entered.
He merely gave a curt, jerky nod that was more insult than respect. His gaze swept over Liam, lingering on his human features with a flicker of pure, undiluted contempt.
Lieutenant Varg, standing to Koth's right, was leaner, all coiled tension and sharp edges.
His lips were peeled back in a silent snarl, revealing needle-like teeth. He made no attempt to hide his glare, his hatred a physical force aimed directly at Liam.
To Koth's left stood Lieutenant Zara.
She was the most dangerous of the three.
Her expression was a mask of cold, clinical assessment, her silver-eyed gaze cataloging Liam's every flaw—the lack of battle scars, the human posture, the un-calloused hands.
Her disbelief was not emotional; it was intellectual, and therefore, far more rigid.
"Your Majesty," Koth's voice was a gravelly rumble, ignoring Liam completely. "You summoned us from the front. Every hour we are here, more of my soldiers die."
"I am aware, Commander," Lilith replied, her tone diplomatically neutral. "This is Azra. He will be accompanying you back to Ashard."
Varg let out a sharp, disgusted breath. Zara's eyes narrowed infinitesimally.
Koth finally turned his head, his molten gaze settling on Liam. "A human." The word was a curse. "We are being slaughtered by humans, and you send us another one as… what? A good luck charm?"
"He is here to help," Lilith said, a thread of steel entering her voice.
She knew they had information on who Liam was, or at least was supposed to be, but she also knew they didn't believe it one bit, and to outrightly say he was the demon god would only make their disdain all the more embarrassing.
"Help?" Varg spat, unable to contain himself.
"How? By showing us new ways to die? The Radiant paladins will see his pretty human face and assume he's a prisoner. Then they'll see him standing with us and assume he's a traitor. Either way, they will try to kill him first, and we will have to waste resources protecting the crown's newest pet."
Liam listened, his face a placid mask. He felt the old, familiar urge to perform, to summon the Sovereign's Presence and crush their insubordination with sheer, terrifying aura.
But he quashed it.
Theatrics would be gasoline on this particular fire.
These demons weren't courtiers to be intimidated; they were warriors who had been betrayed by empty promises and failed strategies.
They would only believe what they could see with their own eyes, measured in enemy dead and held ground.
He remained silent, letting their hostility wash over him.
"The situation, Commander," Lilith prompted, deftly steering the conversation back from the brink.
Koth grunted, turning to the map on the table. It was a mess of frantic markings. He stabbed a thick, clawed finger at a location denoted as Outpost Krazax.
"This is the reality, not courtly fantasy," he began, his voice dripping with bitterness.
"The Ashard Perimeter is a chain of twelve outposts. We hold six. The Radiant Empire holds six. Krazax is the linchpin. If it falls, their forces can flood into the Ashard Valley, and the province is lost."
Zara spoke now, her voice cool and precise.
"They have a new commander on their side. A Paladin-Commander of the Archmage stage. He's tactical, ruthless, and his presence alone amplifies the zealotry of his troops. Our demons break against their lines like water on stone."
"They have a steady supply line from the Dawn's Reach citadel," Varg added, jabbing a finger at a point deeper in Radiant territory. "We have… what's left of the mountain passes. They attack at dawn, every dawn, with fresh troops. We fight with the exhausted, the wounded, and the despairing."
Koth leaned on the table, the wood groaning under his weight. His next words were directed at the map, but meant for Lilith's—and Liam's—ears.
"Morale is nonexistent. The soldiers have heard the rumors from the capital. A summoned god." He barked a harsh, ugly laugh. "They don't believe in gods anymore. They only believe in the edge of a paladin's sword. We cannot hold Krazax for more than another week. Maybe less."
The finality in his voice was absolute. This was not a plea for help; it was a statement of inevitable fact.
The room fell silent. Lilith's jaw was tight, her own failures reflected back at her in the resigned eyes of her commander.
She was failed queen whose only hope was a failed actor.
Then, Liam spoke for the first time.
His voice was quiet, devoid of grandeur or threat. It was the simple, level tone of a man acknowledging a difficult truth.
"I understand."
Three pairs of demonic eyes snapped to him, startled by the lack of pretense.
He met Koth's gaze, then Varg's, then Zara's. He didn't flinch from the hatred, the cynicism, the disdain.
"You've been failed. Your soldiers are dying. Your outpost is on the verge of falling." He stated it all as simple, unvarnished facts. "I am not here to give you pretty words or empty vows."
He paused, letting the words hang in the tense air.
"I am prepared to depart with you tomorrow."
He offered no grand promises. No declarations of his divinity. There was nothing to perform here, only a task to be completed.
Koth studied him for a long, hard moment, searching for the lie, the trick. He found only a unsettling calm. The Commander gave another curt nod, this one slightly less hostile, merely deeply skeptical.
"Fine. We leave at first light. Don't be late."
Without another word, the three warriors turned and filed out of the room, leaving Liam and Lilith in the heavy silence they had left behind.
Liam turned to look out the room's single, narrow window, towards the north. Towards Ashard.
The time for performance was over. The stage was set for something more profound.
Results.