CH924 · Rewrite
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Chapter 924: An Old Trick of the Demons

The animal skins lay across the table. Roland looked at them.

His face gave nothing away. His voice, when he spoke, came out flat and measured. “What are these supposed to mean?”

He already knew what they meant. He was asking the officials, and the officials knew he knew, and so the room was very quiet.

No one wanted to be the one to say it aloud. Not in front of a king whose mood they couldn’t yet read.

The images were crude — quick strokes, no artistry — but simple enough that a child could follow the story. A large wolf. Common people on their knees. A witch with her hands bound. A city wall consumed by fire. A cityscape reduced to ruins and corpses.

The wolf was Lorgar. No one in the room had any doubt about that.

The sequence read like a demand: surrender the Wolf Girl, lay down your arms, submit — or face total destruction.

Roland exhaled slowly and let his eyes move around the room. Several officials had lost color. One or two looked away when his gaze reached them. None of them suggested compliance.

He appreciated that, at least.

A pulse of light appeared near the far wall, expanding outward, and Pasha’s presence filled the space between them. “Your Majesty.” Her voice arrived directly in his mind, urgent. “Sylvie has told me everything. Do not make any decision based on what those drawings say. This is one of their oldest tricks.”

He composed himself before answering. “Did something like this happen during the first Battle of Divine Will?”

“To a lord of the common people,” Pasha said. Carefully. “The demons used this method to drive a wedge between the common people and the witches. It’s how they swallowed the Land of Dawn — piece by piece, city by city.”

She explained the mechanism without hurrying.

During the first Battle of Divine Will, the demons had worked the battlefield and the politics simultaneously. They would approach a city lord — especially one whose witches were few and whose walls were thin — and make an offer: surrender the witches within your walls and we will delay our attack on your city. In that era, witches had lived openly, their abilities visible to any observer. They were easy to identify, easy to hand over.

Many lords took the offer. The witches who came back from the front lines expecting shelter were arrested or executed by the same people they’d been defending. The estrangement that followed was not a slow drift — it was a fracture. Witches and common people pulled apart, each convinced the other was the greater enemy.

In the middle of that war, two coalition forces had formed in the central cities of the Land of Dawn. One was made up of witches. The other consisted of common people. They had fought side by side until the day they didn’t. The common people’s army capitulated to the demons and then turned on the witches — using God’s Stones of Retaliation as weapons, targeting their former allies with the one tool that could suppress magic.

The witches were exhausted. They’d lost more than half their number in the fighting that preceded the betrayal. They resisted. They lost.

Their leaders were publicly beheaded.

The Witch Union had given this event a name: the Red Betrayal.

“It became the fault line everything else broke along,” Pasha said. “From that point forward, witches and common people could not trust each other. The wound never closed — it just became the shape of things.”

“What happened to the cities that surrendered?”

“They outlasted the witches by months, not years. The demons’ offer was never a peace — it was a protocol. The lord who began the Red Betrayal spent his remaining years building mist storage towers for the demons, running intelligence for them, helping them consolidate their positions. It is said that in the end the demons imprisoned him in his own castle and let him starve. Others say vengeful witches caught him before that happened. No one reliable enough to know for certain survived to confirm which version is true.” A pause. “But the pattern held for every city that chose surrender. There are no exceptions.”

Roland had followed the logic to its end before she finished. He was already thinking past it.

Then Pasha added something that only Roland could hear.

“There is a rumor. Among the witches in the upper levels of the Union, those who were old enough to remember the first Battle in living memory. The rumor says that the demons did not develop this strategy on their own. That before the demons were what they are now — before they were enemies — someone taught them.”

Roland held himself very still. “What did you say?”

The officials looked up, startled. He had spoken aloud without meaning to.

“Someone taught them,” Pasha repeated, her voice barely audible in his mind. “The rumor says that back when the demons were nothing more than beasts — before their current form, before their intelligence — contact was made. Knowledge was passed to them. Some people believe this explains why the Senior Demons resemble human beings. The Three Chiefs of the Union considered the rumor absolute nonsense and forbade discussion of it. Only the witches at the highest levels still carry it.”

Do you believe it?

“I am not sure,” she said, and the uncertainty in her voice was more unsettling than conviction would have been. “If it is true, then everything we assume about the demons as an external enemy must be reconsidered.”

He thought about it. He thought about the demons’ strategy — the surrender ultimatum, the wedge between humans and witches, the patience of it — and how familiar the shape of it was. How human the shape of it was.

Was the person in the story a witch or a common person?

Pasha’s sigh was barely perceptible. “Some said one. Some said the other.”

What an unreliable rumor.

But unreliable rumors were not the same as false ones. He agreed with the Three Chiefs that suppressing it had been the right call — it could do no useful work, and significant destructive work, left in circulation. The task in front of them remained the same regardless of origin: fight the demons and survive.

He surfaced.

“If a lord held firm?” he asked aloud, for the room. “If he refused the offer entirely — what did the demons do?”

“Kept harassing him,” Pasha said, in the shared register now. “Or besieged the city outright until he broke. The trick had an excellent record against small towns. It required only that the lord’s nerve fail before his walls.”

Roland looked at Barov.

“Barov.”

“Your Majesty.” The man was already standing.

“Stabilize the city first. Hold a memorial ceremony for the soldiers who died on the wall today. Make it meaningful — the public needs to see that we honor them.” He let his voice harden slightly. “As for the demons, I intend to show them that this is not the first Battle of Divine Will. The rules they learned do not apply here.”

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