The echo of Bael's shriek still left a ringing in the ears of the Northern Lords as Harold drew his sword from the cracked ice. Karsten sat slumped, gasping for breath, staring at the frigid steam geysering out like blood from a wound in the earth. Around the lake, the arrogance of the Northern clans had melted away, replaced by pure terror of the technology they had just witnessed.
Anne stepped onto the ice with composure, followed by Caine, who still held the controls of his mechanical device. Anne's high-heeled boots did not slip for a moment; she walked as if the fractured lake were the marble floor of her office in the West.
"The Trial of Blood is concluded," Anne's voice was crystal clear, cutting through the winter wind. "My husband has proven his strength through tradition. Now, let me prove my strength through reality."
Anne signaled to Julian. Within seconds, several Vaine-Castell soldiers began to unpack crates brought from Caine's ship. Inside were not just sacks of grain, but blocks of nutrient-dense protein and portable crystal-based heating units that could burn for a month without a single log of firewood.
"You hate the West because you think we want to buy your souls," Anne looked at the Lords, who remained frozen in place. "But look beneath your feet. The demons you consider ancient legends are trying to consume you. Without our technology, this winter will become a mass grave for your clans."
Caine stepped forward, standing beside his sister. He adjusted his monocle, looking down at Karsten with a condescending gaze. "My sister is far too kind-hearted. If this were my decision, I would let you freeze alongside that three-headed cat-toad. But, since Anne has already invested in this frozen dumpster, I brought these."
Caine held up a small blue crystal—a prototype far more advanced than the one Rainnes used. "This is a stabilizer unit. Install this in each of your mines, and the 'voices' from below will no longer drive your miners mad or wake the monsters. In exchange, you will provide us with thirty percent of your raw steel output every month."
Karsten stood up slowly, wiping the snow from his face. He looked at Harold, then shifted his gaze to the two Vaine siblings. "You bring strange magic, Harold. But... my people need to eat. And if this iron truly can lock away those cursed voices..."
Karsten dropped to one knee, followed by several other Lords. "Isfellan will follow the sword of de Croul... and the capital of Vaine."
Harold sheathed his sword, his eyes meeting Anne's. There was no affection there, only the mutual recognition of a plan perfectly executed.
Meanwhile, inside the darkness of the fortress, Rainnes was still trembling. She paid no mind to the negotiations on the lake. Her eyes were fixed on the mountains in the distance. Even though Caine's light-net had suppressed Bael, she saw something else.
Bael had not retreated out of fear.
"He didn't leave," Rainnes whispered to herself.
In her vision, the black smoke above the mountain no longer resembled a crown. The smoke began to take the shape of a man's face she knew all too well. A face that was smiling behind the prison bars in the dungeon below.
Rainnes ran toward William's cell, but when she reached the silver door, she found the guards in a deep slumber—not from exhaustion, but from a forced sleep frequency.
Inside the cell, William de Croul was no longer sitting in the corner. He stood in the center of the room, his chained hands raised into the air. Around him, thousands of black ants emerged from the cracks in the floor, forming the intricate symbols of The Lesser Key.
"Welcome back, Rainnes," William said without turning around. "Did you enjoy the show? Anne thinks she can harvest God, but she forgets... God does not like to be exploited."
William turned, and for the first time, his eyes were no longer a human brown. They had turned a golden yellow, exactly like the eyes of the Vaine family, but with the vertical pupils of a predator.
"Tell his mighty husband," William grinned widely. "That dinner has only just begun."