After Marsh left, clutching his satchel of documents and promises of legal manipulation, Silas slumped in his chair. The study felt colder somehow, despite the warm glow from the fireplace.

"Well," Bonereghard said, adjusting his monocle, "that was rather illuminating."

"Do you believe him?" Silas asked.

"Get some rest," Bonereghard suggested, noting Silas's exhaustion. "Tomorrow, we can discuss more... permanent solutions to our security concerns."

Silas nodded, too tired to argue. In his chambers, he found Diog still sleeping peacefully on his cushion, the wounds from the Hexgear Cup slowly healing. Silas Junior had somehow managed to climb onto a bookshelf and was contentedly dissolving the spine of what looked like a first edition.

As he lay in bed, Silas couldn't shake the feeling that legal delays wouldn't be enough. They needed something more immediate, more decisive. His mind drifted to the archives they'd glimpsed earlier, wondering what other protections his grandfather had left behind.

Silas couldn't sleep. The knowledge of what lurked in the archives kept him tossing and turning. Each creak of the estate's ancient floors made him wonder if Kelso's men were trying another break-in.

Finally, around midnight, he got up. "Going somewhere, young master?" Bonereghard materialized from the shadows, his skeletal frame silhouetted against the moonlight streaming through the windows.

"The archives," Silas replied, pulling on his boots. "We need more protection than just you and the Gemini."

Bonereghard's monocle glinted. "Ah. And here I thought my performance against our recent visitors was quite adequate."

"It was impressive," Silas admitted, "but you can't be everywhere at once. And if Kelso sends more men, there's no guarantee."

"I will admit, I cannot be everywhere." Bonereghard straightened his immaculate coat. "Though I should warn you, most of the archive's inhabitants require... significant sacrifices for their services."

"I know. But there has to be something we can use."

They descended into the archives, Bonereghard's purple flames lighting the way.

"What exactly are you looking for?" Bonereghard asked as they passed rows of containment cells.

"Something that can guard the estate. Protect the walls, maybe?" Silas peered into a cell containing what appeared to be living shadows. "Something subtle but effective."

"Ah." Bonereghard's flames flickered thoughtfully. "I believe I know just the thing. This way."

They turned down a darker corridor, where the cells seemed older, their magical seals more complex. Bonereghard stopped before a cell that appeared empty at first glance.

But as Silas looked closer, he noticed the walls themselves seemed to ripple, like water disturbed by an unseen current. Occasionally, a face would emerge from the stone, only to sink back into the surface moments later.

"The Demon Wall," Bonereghard announced. "One of your grandfather's more... practical acquisitions. It inhabits stone and mortar, turning ordinary walls into a living defense system."

Silas watched as another face emerged, this one wearing an expression of eternal hunger. "What's the catch?"

"It feeds on fear and pain," Bonereghard replied matter-of-factly. "Those who die within its domain become part of it. The more violent the death, the stronger it grows."

"That's... disturbing."

"Not an issue for you though. I should note it only hunts those who enter uninvited. Guests and legitimate visitors are quite safe." Bonereghard adjusted his monocle. "Your grandfather used it to great effect during his more... contentious periods."

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Silas studied the rippling stone surface. "How do we contract with it?"

"Blood and intent," Bonereghard replied. "Though I should warn you, once bound to a structure, it cannot be easily removed. The walls themselves become part of its being and require either the destruction of the estate, absolute magic power, or the death of the contractor."

Silas took a deep breath. "Got it, basically permanent. Show me."

Bonereghard produced an ornate dagger, its blade etched with runes similar to those on the cell's containment seals. "Three drops of blood on the threshold. Then state your terms."

Silas took the dagger, its weight feeling oddly comfortable in his hand. He pricked his finger and let three drops fall onto the cell's entrance.

The blood sizzled as it hit the stone, and the rippling effect intensified. More faces emerged from the walls, all turning to look at Silas with hungry anticipation.

"I, Silas Beckham," he began, his voice steady despite his racing heart, "offer you a new hunting ground. The walls of my estate shall be your domain, and any who enter uninvited shall be your prey."

The faces twisted into expressions of eager hunger. A voice emerged from the stone, speaking in overlapping whispers that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

"Blood... walls... hunting grounds..." The voice grew more excited. "Yes... yes... we accept..."

"State your price," Silas commanded, remembering Bonereghard's warnings about being specific with such beings.

The voice turned contemplative. "Fear... pain... death... all who die within our embrace become part of us... "

"Only those who enter uninvited," Silas specified. "My guests and those I have welcomed in the past and given permission remain untouched, I don't want a friend coming over to surprise me and getting eaten."

"Agreed..." The voice took on a gleeful tone. "Mark them with your blood... a touch... a symbol... those who bear your mark shall pass safely..."

"And you will protect the estate? Guard against intruders?"

"We shall become the walls..." The voices grew stronger. "Stone and mortar... brick and beam... all shall be our flesh... our hunting ground..."

"Then we have a deal." Silas pressed his bleeding finger against the cell's seal.

The effect was immediate. The rippling surface surged forward, flowing out of the cell like liquid stone. It spread across the floor and up the archive's walls, faces appearing and disappearing as it moved.

"It will take time to inhabit the entire estate," Bonereghard observed. "Though I suspect our uninvited guests will find future visits considerably more... challenging."

As if in response, a distant scream rang out. Silas jumped, but Bonereghard seemed unperturbed.

"Ah, it seems someone was trying to breach estate." the skeletal butler remarked. "How fortunate that our new guardian loves its work."

They made their way back upstairs, and Silas could see the Demon Wall's influence spreading. The estate's stone surfaces seemed more alive somehow, shadows moving in ways they shouldn't.

In the main hall, a face emerged from a column just long enough to grin at Silas before sinking back into the stone. The voice followed them: "Master. Hungry. Prey... soon..."

"I do hope you're prepared for the maintenance this will require," Bonereghard said as they reached Silas's quarters. "The Demon Wall can be quite, something when it's hungry."

"Meaning?"

"It may become restless if too much time passes between meals." Bonereghard's monocle caught the moonlight. "Though given recent events, I suspect that won't be an issue."

Silas nodded, watching as ripples spread across his bedroom walls. "Will it protect Diog too?"

"Of course. Anything marked by your blood and by your word is recognized as under your protection. Though I suspect our young Fenrir can handle himself once he's fully recovered."

As if on cue, they heard another distant scream, quickly cut off. "That would be the second intruder," Bonereghard noted. "The Demon Wall is quite efficient once it gets going. Though you might want to avoid the east wing for a few days after an intrusion. Stone digestion can be rather... messy."

Silas grimaced. "Noted."

"Oh, and one more thing," Bonereghard added. "Avoid touching the walls.. The Demon Wall won't harm them, but the sensation can be rather unsettling for the unitiated."

"Unsettling how?"

A face emerged from the nearby wall, grinning with too many teeth. "We hunger..." and settled back into the stone.

"Like that," Bonereghard said dryly. "Though one does get used to it. Eventually."

Silas sat on his bed, watching shadows play across the walls. The estate felt different now, more alive but also more dangerous. He could feel the Demon Wall's presence spreading, seeping into every stone and brick.

"Bonereghard?"

"Yes, young master?"

"Did my grandfather have anything else like this? Other defenses we should activate?"

The skeletal butler's flames flickered thoughtfully. "Several. Though perhaps we should wait until you've adjusted to our new resident before adding more. The archives contain many useful tools, but too much too quickly can be... overwhelming."

"Will I be able to see everything it sees?" Silas asked.

"To an extent. Though I wouldn't recommend spending too much time watching its hunts. The Demon Wall's perspective on reality can be... disorienting."

As if to demonstrate, the walls suddenly showed multiple views of the estate simultaneously, corridors, chambers, and passages all overlapping.. Silas caught glimpses of dark figures trying to navigate the halls, unaware they were already trapped.

"Three more down," Bonereghard announced casually. "Though no worries, it seems these are only mice."

The walls rippled with satisfaction, and Silas felt an echo of the Demon Wall's pleasure at successful hunts. It was not entirely unpleasant.

"Get some rest, young master," Bonereghard suggested. "The Demon Wall will keep watch."

"Yeah, sure." Silas muttered. "I'll sure I can sleep now."