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Chapter 475: Sulyvhan the Conqueror (6)

The imperial council room was vast and well lit. Tall windows let in the afternoon sunlight. A large solid wood table occupied the center, surrounded by seven armchairs reserved for the generals. Detailed maps of the provinces covered the walls, marked with colors to indicate controlled zones, trade routes and defense points. Sulyvhan took his place at the end of the table, Ashborn to his right. The generals arrived one after the other and settled in with discipline.

Pendragon was the first to speak. He commanded the forces of the North.

"The passes are secure, Sire. My men have reinforced the fortifications and patrol relentlessly. No demonic incursion has been reported for three months."

Dantalion, in charge of mana flows, nodded.

"The mana reserves are stable. Our mages have purified several contaminated zones near the eastern border. Harvests in those regions have doubled thanks to the new rituals."

Silvernight, responsible for intelligence, spread his reports on the table.

"The border provinces of Draken show some signs of agitation. Isolated bands are causing minor troubles, but nothing that cannot be controlled. Draken himself is supervising the operations with his usual efficiency."

The other generals in turn presented their reports. One spoke of the new cities like Riverton, built on the banks of a purified river, where stone houses and wooden docks now welcomed merchant boats loaded with fish and grain. Another described Fortshield, erected in the central plains, with its solid ramparts and barracks that housed thousands of well-trained soldiers. The artisans there produced weapons and armor of consistent quality. The markets were full of goods: colored fabrics, iron tools, spices from the reconquered lands.

Sulyvhan listened attentively. He asked precise questions about food stocks, the training of new recruits and the state of the roads. Each general answered clearly. The atmosphere was serious but confident. The Empire functioned like a well-oiled machine. The cities were growing, the villages were repopulating and security was gradually returning to the countryside.

After two hours of discussions, as the generals were putting away their documents, an officer from Silvernight suddenly spoke up in a hesitant voice.

"Sire, according to the latest information gathered by our agents, there is a traitor at the humidity. It is a being of demonic prince level. Without the help of higher beings opposed to demons, it will be impossible to definitively defeat this threat."

A heavy silence fell over the council room, abruptly interrupting the murmurs circulating among the generals. All eyes converged on Sulyvhan, whose expression remained impenetrable. He remained seated for a long moment, his fingers crossed under his chin, before letting out a slight sigh. In reality, this proposal for an alliance with the neighboring kingdoms inspired only limited confidence in him. He deeply believed in the resilience of his people and in his own ability to lead his troops to victory, but he was not blind either. He had observed, over the past weeks, doubt settling in the eyes of his soldiers and worry spreading through the homes. In such a context, refusing any external help would have been not only imprudent, but also dangerous for everyone’s morale.

He rose slowly, taking care to sweep the room with his gaze before speaking in a clear and measured voice. "We will accept this help if it presents itself, provided that it meets our conditions. However, this decision must not make us passive. It is imperative, at the same time, that we find the trace of the one who allowed the opening of the doors of the Abyss. This key, as we call it, could well offer us a decisive advantage, provided that we manage to locate it before our enemies." He paused, then turned to his closest advisor. "Ashborn, you will organize discreet searches, without arousing suspicions. Silvernight, your agents are the most seasoned in the kingdom. I want them to follow this lead with the greatest care. No clue must be neglected, no matter how small."

The generals exchanged glances, then nodded one after the other. Several of them showed visible relief, as if this decision had finally removed a painful thorn they had not dared to mention. The tension in the room was beginning to ease when a shiver suddenly ran down Sulyvhan’s spine. A presence had slipped behind him, so light that it had disturbed neither the air nor the silence. None of the men present seemed to have noticed until it emerged from the shadow, which alerted everyone who reacted just as quickly.

Before he could make a move or issue an order. The stranger did not utter a word. He simply placed on the solid oak table an object that immediately drew all eyes. It was an ancient key, forged in a dark metal that seemed to absorb the light. Fine and discreet runes ran along its ring, traced with a precision that betrayed a forgotten craftsmanship. Under the fading light of the gothic windows, the object shone with an almost supernatural gleam.

Sulyvhan turned abruptly, his left hand gripping the back of his seat while his right instinctively sought the hilt of his sword. But the silhouette had already disappeared, melted into the air as if it had never existed. The generals remained frozen, their eyes fixed on the key, torn between disbelief and deep mistrust. Ashborn, whose reactivity had always been his reputation, placed his hand on his sword by reflex and approached the table with cautious steps. "Sire, who was that?" he asked in a low and tense voice. "None of our guards reported an entry. No sound, no door, nothing." Sulyvhan did not answer immediately. He observed the key, then the void left by the intruder, his jaws clenched. Ashborn’s question hung in the air, but the silhouette had already vanished, taking with it all certainty about its identity.

Seconds ticked by, suspended in a silence broken only by the muffled beating of hearts. Then, as if freed from a spell, the room erupted in a sudden, chaotic movement. But the figure had already vanished.