The Covenant of the First Demon King

Beneath Schwarzburg Castle lay chambers older than memory.

"Few have walked these halls in centuries," Fido explained, leading Altrelis down a spiraling staircase carved from living rock. "The Vault of Origins contains the most sacred relics of our people."

Their torches cast dancing shadows across walls covered in ancient runes.

"Why bring me here now?"

"Because you carry the Void Scepter." Fido paused at a massive door of black iron. "And because there are things you must understand."

He placed a weathered palm against the door.

Runes flared blue-white.

The door groaned open.

The Vault of Origins was vast.

A cathedral of stone, its ceiling lost in darkness above. Pillars carved with the faces of forgotten kings marched into shadow.

And at its heart—

A statue.

Carved from a single piece of obsidian, it depicted a figure of terrible majesty. Beast-like features melded with humanoid form, and in the statue's grip rested a scepter identical to the one Altrelis carried.

"Velkor the Unbroken," Fido whispered. "First Demon King. Founder of Schwarzburg."

'Ah,'* the Wisdom's voice resonated. *'I remember this place.'

'You've been here before?'

'In a manner of speaking. Long ago, in another vessel.'

Altrelis approached the statue, drawn by some invisible force.

"Velkor united the scattered beast-folk tribes," Fido continued. "Before him, we were prey—hunted, enslaved, exterminated at human whim. He gave us strength. Purpose. A nation."

"How?"

"Through the Covenant."

Fido led him around the statue to an altar of white stone.

Upon it rested a crystal sphere, dark as night but shot through with veins of purple light.

"The God of the Underworld granted Velkor power in exchange for a promise. Our people would never seek to conquer the world—only to protect our own. We would take no offensive wars of aggression. We would offer sanctuary to the persecuted."

"And in exchange?"

"The blessing of the Void. The power to stand against any who would destroy us." Fido's eyes met his. "That is the legacy you inherit, young master. Not conquest, but guardianship. Not empire, but refuge."

Altrelis stared at the dark sphere.

"What happens if the Covenant is broken?"

"It never has been. But the texts warn..." Fido hesitated. "The blessing would become a curse. The power that protects would turn to destruction."

'He speaks true,'* the Wisdom confirmed. *'The Covenant binds both ways. Honor it, and you are blessed. Betray it...'

'And?'

'And nothing of Schwarzburg would remain. The Void is not cruel, but it is absolute.'

Altrelis felt the weight of millennia pressing upon him.

"I understand."

He raised the Void Scepter.

"I, Altrelis, declare before the bones of my predecessors: I will honor the Covenant. I will protect, not conquer. I will shelter, not oppress."

The purple light in the crystal sphere flared.

For a heartbeat, Altrelis felt something vast and ancient brush against his consciousness—approving, watchful.

Then it faded.

"It is done," Fido breathed. "The Covenant recognizes you."

They ascended in contemplative silence.

Altrelis's mind churned with all he had learned.

'The Covenant explains much,'* he thought to the Wisdom. *'Why Schwarzburg never expanded. Why the Demon Kings never waged wars of conquest.'

'Indeed. And also why your enemies feel emboldened. They interpret restraint as weakness.'

'Then they'll learn otherwise.'

'You plan something.'

'The Covenant forbids offensive war. It says nothing about decisive defense.'

The Wisdom's presence rippled with what might have been approval.

'You learn quickly.'

"Young master! Young master!"

Tor burst into the council chamber, fur bristling with excitement.

"What is it?"

"News from the human lands!" She thrust a crumpled message toward him. "The merchant caravan returned—they heard rumors at the border markets!"

Altrelis took the message, scanning quickly.

His expression hardened.

"Call the council. Immediately."

Within the hour, all the key figures had assembled.

"House Medean has finalized their alliance," Altrelis announced grimly. "The Ilston family commits three thousand troops. The Hilt family, another two thousand. Combined with Medean's own forces..."

"Ten thousand soldiers," Luna finished. "Marching for our borders within the fortnight."

"They're not even bothering with pretense anymore." Isana's flames flickered dangerously. "Straight conquest."

"They believe they can overwhelm us with numbers." Fido shook his head. "The arrogance of youth."

"Can we match them?"

"No." Luna's voice was flat. "Even with the Southern Wolf reinforcements, we field perhaps four thousand. The terrain helps, but not enough."

"Then we need another advantage." Altrelis leaned forward. "Something they don't expect. Something that changes the calculus entirely."

Elise spoke up.

"My father believes in overwhelming force. He's never lost a pitched battle. His confidence is his weakness."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he won't expect tricks. If you could draw him into unfavorable terrain—make him fight where his numbers don't matter..."

"The Pass of Ancient Barrows." Ragnar's gruff voice cut in. "Narrow approach, high cliffs on both sides. Even a small force could hold it against an army."

"He'd have to be convinced to attack there," Luna mused. "Rather than simply besieging us."

"Leave that to me." Altrelis's eyes gleamed. "I have a plan."

End of Chapter Eight

—Next Chapter: Trade and Conspiracy