Soren’s POV

The Next Day

Soren awoke, his chest constricted in a tight vice of anxiety. Sleep had eluded him, his rest shattered by relentless nightmares that now clung to his waking thoughts. He lay there, suffocating under the weight of the previous day's horrors. The images of countless souls ensnared by those otherworldly abominations haunted him, denying him even the slightest solace of sleep.

Where did it all go wrong? The question churned bitterly in his mind as he thought of Nalia. Something had changed in her a few weeks prior, a transformation that initially filled him with elation. Her newfound ability to swell their ranks rapidly had been a godsend, as she deftly multiplied their subordinates and seamlessly wove them into every stratum of Locksley's hierarchy.

But with the onset of the apocalypse, the seeds of doubt began to sprout. Soren's unease grew as they amassed hundreds, then thousands of ordinary civilians to their cause at an unnaturally brisk pace. A mere word from Nalia, and they pledged allegiance, eagerly accepting her promises of power.

Though Nalia remained tight-lipped, Soren was certain this influence stemmed from some newfound power she wielded. It troubled him, yet the dire straits of the apocalypse made such concerns secondary. Survival was paramount.

But the raid on the Monster Village marked a turning point. Nalia's initial plan seemed straightforward: claim the territory, eradicate the surrounding threats. What she hadn't anticipated was stumbling upon a flourishing village, its very existence throwing their plans into disarray.

When Nalia commanded the main party to evacuate the village, leaving the newly recruited civilians behind, Soren's eyes were opened to her true intentions. It became chillingly clear that these civilians were never meant to be part of their ranks. From the outset, they were mere pawns, sacrificial lambs to satiate her burgeoning power.

It's like she's become an entirely different person, Soren thought, biting his lip in turmoil. I must confront her. I need to grasp the full extent of what's happening.

After dressing, he carefully masked his emotions and stepped out of his room. The corridors of their stronghold bustled with subordinates, each absorbed in their duties, preparing for the day ahead. Soren knew he had to maintain his composure; showing any hint of weakness was not an option.

Navigating the labyrinthine underground passages, he arrived at a secluded section, a place their followers seldom dared to tread. Standing before Nalia's door, Soren steeled himself before knocking. "My lady, are you awake?"

A brief silence ensued before Nalia's voice invited him in. "Come in, Soren, I am ready."

As he entered, Soren observed Nalia gazing into her mirror, her expression vacant. A flicker of fear momentarily disturbed her eyes, swiftly replaced by a practiced smile.

She turned to face him, her tone casual. "How are the negotiations with the nobility progressing?"

"The Callfields have pledged their full support, while the Bloodsworths remain indecisive," Soren reported, his professionalism unflinching. "They're biding their time, assessing the situation."

"Then make the stakes clear to them," Nalia responded with a light chuckle. "They need to comprehend the magnitude of power they're contending with."

Soren arched an eyebrow. "Should I send Ragnor to handle that?"

"No, no. Ragnor's too impulsive for this task," Nalia replied, shaking her head dismissively. "I want you to take charge of it. I trust your judgment and your ability to wield your power effectively."

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"I understand," Soren nodded, his resolve firm. "I assure you, I won't let you down."

"I have no doubt about that," Nalia said with a chuckle. "But what of the Lord of the Stronghearts? His faltering now could pose a significant setback to our plans."

"I've been working on him tirelessly this past week," Soren replied with a sigh. "I have a meeting arranged with him this morning to reinforce the gravity of his commitment."

"You're always so reliable," Nalia complimented, rising from her seat, her posture indicating she was about to leave.

"M-my lady," Soren hesitated, reaching out to stop her.

Nalia turned, her expression one of mild surprise. "What's the matter, Soren? Is something troubling you?"

As Soren struggled for words, Nalia deduced, "This is about yesterday, isn't it? I admit, I exposed you to a very ugly thing."

"It's not just about yesterday," Soren said, shaking his head. "It's... everything. Don't get me wrong, I'm not naive. I understand the necessity of taking lives, be it monsters or humans, for our cause. But this level of cruelty… it's all becoming too overwhelming."

"I understand," Nalia replied, her voice softening, a smile gracing her lips. "It's normal to feel that way; it's part of being human. But you see, you haven't experienced what I have, haven't felt what I've endured."

"Then share it with me," Soren implored, his voice tinged with desperation. "I need to understand. We've been together since our days in the sewers; surely you can confide in me."

Nalia tilted her head, her hand gently caressing Soren's cheek. In a low voice, she confessed, "I'm sorry, my dear Soren, but I can't. This burden is mine alone." She sighed, her gaze softening. "Just remember, everything I do is for us. In this world, we only have each other. That's been our truth since we were children, hasn't it?"

Looking into Nalia's verdant eyes, Soren noticed a hint of moisture, stirring a deep empathy within him. He nodded, understanding yet burdened. "I know," he murmured, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "But you must promise to reveal the whole truth to me one day."

"I promise," Nalia affirmed, her expression sincere. "And it will be sooner than you expect."

A light laugh escaped Soren, a sense of relief loosening the tightness in his chest. "That's all I needed to hear. Until then, I'll embrace any role necessary, even if it means becoming a devil."

"The role of the devil is mine," Nalia quipped with a chuckle. She stroked her chin, adopting a contemplative air. "As for you, perhaps 'the devil's grand secretary' suits you best."

Soren joined in the laughter. "It seems we're indeed crafting our own inferno here on earth," he joked. Then, gathering himself, he excused himself. "Now, I must meet with Lord Johannes."

"Go," Nalia nodded, her demeanor back to business. "I'm expecting positive news."

Soren left Nalia’s quarters, his mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions. He traversed the labyrinthine tunnels beneath the ground, emerging twenty minutes later into the heart of the internal citadel. Shrouded from head to toe in a cloak, he moved stealthily through the city's alleys and backstreets, finally arriving at the Strongheart Manor.

There, he lingered discreetly for hours, observing Oswald, the young master of the house. Despite Oswald's innocence and lack of suspicion, Soren maintained a cautious distance. With the youth's close ties to Tristan and the ruling Ravenwood house, Soren knew that Oswald could become a formidable adversary. Any interaction was a risk, potentially revealing their machinations.

Once Oswald departed, Soren seized the opportunity to slip into the mansion through a back entrance. He navigated the corridors with purpose, making his way to Lord Johannes’s room.

Upon his arrival, Lord Johannes addressed him without a preamble. "So, you've come at last. I presume we're here to finalize our plans."

"The objectives are clear," Soren replied, settling into a chair adjacent to Lord Johannes's study. "Once the Ravenwood family falls from power, you must be ready to ascend. This has been your ambition, hasn't it? Rest assured, the support of the other noble houses is secured; we've seen to that."

Johannes's expression grew contemplative, a mix of ambition and resignation in his eyes. "Indeed, ruling Locksley has always been my dream," he admitted, his voice heavy with a sigh. He then fixed a pointed gaze on Soren, his eyes betraying a tinge of bitterness. "However, I never envisioned achieving this dream while being manipulated from the shadows."

Soren's response came with a light, almost mocking chuckle. "Consider it a necessary evil for the greater good. Think of it as your moral obligation to the citizens. With you at the helm, you'll be shielding them from a far more gruesome fate. They'll be spared from a reign of terror beyond their wildest nightmares."