The celebrations continued long after Liam had perford his miracles.
Six hundred voices raised in prayer, in song, in worship that echoed through the Cathedral’s dod ceiling and seed to make the stones vibrate with devotion.
The blind demon who could now see remained on her knees, hands pressed to her face, occasionally looking at her own palms like she still couldn’t believe they were visible.
The boy who’d been crippled walked circles around the chamber, his mother following, both of them crying and laughing in equal asure.
And Liam stood in the center of it, feeling the Synchronization Index tick steadily upward.
[Synchronization Index: 31% → 34%]
[Essence: 21,091 EP ]
[Note: Faith conversion efficiency at unprecedented levels]
[Warning: Intense collective worship is addictive]
The warning was unnecessary.
He wasn’t addicted to their worship. He was sustained by it. There was a difference—addiction implied he could stop. Sustenance ant he needed it to continue functioning as what he’d beco.
High Priestess Severina approached through the celebrating crowd, her black eyes reflecting the chamber’s crystalline light.
She moved with the practiced grace of soone who’d navigated faith for decades, but even she seed shaken by what she’d witnessed.
"My lord," she said, bowing. Not as deeply as the others—she’d earned the right to approach with slightly less obeisance—but still with absolute reverence. "The faithful are overco. Many wish to speak with you. To share their burdens. To ask—"
"For more miracles," Liam finished.
"Yes." Severina’s honesty was refreshing.
"Word will spread. What you’ve done here today—restoring sight, granting mobility—will reach every corner of Eldhar by sunset. By tomorrow, thousands will co seeking the sa."
She paused, searching his face for sothing. Exhaustion? Reluctance?
Whatever she sought, she didn’t find it.
"Can you..." She chose her words carefully. "Will you continue to provide such blessings?"
Liam’s grey eyes—no longer flickering crimson, now settled into sothing steady and certain—studied the chamber.
Studied the faithful who’d given everything to believe.
Studied the two demons whose lives he’d fundantally changed through commands that had cost him essence but granted them everything.
"Not for everyone," he said quietly. "Not indefinitely. What I did today required power. Purpose. The understanding that these two - the blind demon, the crippled boy - their faith was absolute. Their need genuine. Their devotion complete."
He looked at Severina directly.
"I am not a miracle dispenser for the desperate. My blessings are given to those whose faith transcends re want into sothing purer." His voice carried authority that made nearby demons quiet their celebrations to listen. "Those who worship because they believe, not because they seek reward—they may find their prayers answered."
It was the perfect answer.
Mysterious enough to maintain divine distance. Clear enough to establish boundaries. Political enough to prevent being overwheld by every demon with a problem seeking divine intervention.
And true enough that he believed it himself.
Severina bowed deeper this ti, understanding the wisdom in his words. "I will share your guidance with those who ask, my lord. The truly faithful will understand."
She straightened, then gestured to a side chamber. "There is more you should see. If you have the ti. If your divine attention can be spared."
"Show ."
They moved through the crowd, demons parting like water, their hands reaching to touch him as he passed.
Not grabbing—that would be sacrilege—just brushing his clothes, his arms, desperate for any contact with divinity made manifest.
He let them. The contact cost him nothing and ant everything to them.
The side chamber Severina led him to was smaller, quieter. A dozen demons waited there, all wearing the dark robes of the Naless Litany, all with severed horns marking their devotion.
But these were different from the celebrating faithful outside.
These looked like soldiers.
"The Litany’s militant arm," Severina explained. "Demons who’ve pledged not just their faith but their blades to your service. They patrol the Cathedral. Protect the faithful. And—when necessary—carry out divine will in ways that prayer alone cannot."
The dozen soldiers knelt as one when Liam entered.
Their movents were synchronized, practiced, the muscle mory of warriors who’d trained together extensively.
"Rise," Liam commanded.
They stood as one.
Their eyes—all various shades of crimson and amber—held the sa absolute devotion as the faithful outside. But tempered with sothing harder. More dangerous.
These were demons who’d kill for him without hesitation.
"My lord," the largest of them spoke. A female demon with scars crisscrossing her arms and face. "I am Kael’thra. Forr legion commander under House Morwen before I heard the call and severed ties to serve the Primordial."
She gestured to her companions.
"We are twelve. Soon to be more as word of your miracles spreads. We offer our blades in service to divine will. Where prayer fails, we act. Where faith requires defense, we provide it."
Liam studied them. Saw competence. Saw dedication that transcended simple loyalty into sothing approaching zealotry. Saw weapons that were well-maintained and armor that bore marks of actual combat.
These weren’t ceremonial guards. They were killers who’d chosen to kill for god instead of House.
"What do you want from ?" he asked directly.
Kael’thra’s expression didn’t change.
"Permission to expand. To recruit from the faithful. To build a force worthy of protecting your interests and executing your will."
"The Cathedral already has guards."
"The Cathedral has devoted demons who can swing swords," Kael’thra corrected respectfully. "We offer trained killers. Veterans of the war with the Radiant Empire. Specialists in infiltration, assassination, tactical operations that conventional forces can’t or won’t execute."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping.
"Rumors speak of plans to resu assault on the Radiant Empire. Queen Lilith is gathering resources. The Nine Houses are positioning themselves. The legion commanders are receiving orders to prepare for offensive operations."
Her amber eyes held his grey ones.
"When you march, you’ll need more than conventional forces. You’ll need demons willing to die for you absolutely. Who follow orders without question because those orders co from their god."
"You’re offering to be my fanatics."
"We’re offering to be your faithful made weapon." Kael’thra’s correction was subtle but important. "Fanatics die uselessly. The faithful die purposefully. That’s our difference."
Liam considered.
An ard force of absolute believers could be powerful. But also dangerous. Zealots were unpredictable. Hard to control.
Prone to interpreting divine will in ways that created more problems than they solved.
But zealots were also unbreakable. Incorruptible. The kind of soldiers who’d hold positions that rational beings would abandon. Who’d execute orders that moral beings would refuse.
"You’ll answer to directly," he said finally. "Not to the High Priestess. Not to the Queen. Not to any House or political entity. Only ."
"Yes, my lord."
"You’ll act only when commanded. No independent operations. No ’interpreting divine will’ without explicit permission."
"Yes, my lord."
"And you’ll understand that I may ask things of you that seem wrong. That contradict what you think a god should command. That challenge your understanding of divinity."
Kael’thra’s expression didn’t waver. "The Primordial’s ways are beyond mortal comprehension. We do not need to understand. Only to obey."
It was the perfect answer. Terrifying in its absoluteness. Beautiful in its simplicity.
Exactly what he needed.
"Then you have permission to expand. Recruit from the faithful. Build your force." His voice carried absolute authority. "But understand—you are weapons I may choose not to use. Being prepared for divine purpose doesn’t guarantee you’ll fulfill it."
"We understand, my lord. The readiness is the purpose."
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