Morgoth began to stir within the cage, stretching her feathered wings out, as she shook off the remnants of her slumber. Her tail swung, revealing the concealed sting hidden beneath layers of vibrant dark-colored feathers.

With a simple touch of his finger, Vantos tapped the side of the cage. The structure responded instantly, expanding and reshaping, growing large enough for a man to step inside with ease.

"It's almost time, young master," Vantos said. "The only thing left for you to do is step into the cage and let Morgoth embrace you in her arms. She's quite affectionate—once you get to know her."

His smirk widened as he gestured toward the open gate, beckoning me forward. "I promise, you won't feel a thing."

Bracing myself, I stepped forward.

The moment my foot crossed the threshold, Morgoth's head snapped up, fluttering her wings, lunging forward. Her serpentine body wrapped around my torso and neck with startling speed. I stood completely still, bracing for the sting of her tail—expecting pain or a sharp puncture.

But instead, she simply shifted, adjusting her hold as if examining me. Her body coiled tighter, her warm breath ghosting against my skin. Her wings trembled slightly, and then, she lifted her head so that her gaze aligned perfectly with mine.

I felt an invisible force take hold of me the moment our eyes met.

Her gaze was enthralling—piercing through me, as though she were peering directly into my soul. Her once-shimmering light blue irises darkened, shifting into an abyssal black, swallowing every hint of color.

A strange, numbing feeling overpowered my mind. My thoughts grew sluggish, my limbs felt heavy, and my consciousness wavered.

----------

I blinked, still groggy, as the sound of Vantos snapping his fingers jolted me fully awake. Morgoth was curled up in my lap, sleeping peacefully, with her feathered wings tucked neatly against my stomach. I instinctively touched the left side of my neck, feeling a dull soreness but no sign of a cut or puncture.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, young master," Vantos said, leaning against the cage door. "I thought I'd lost you to Morgoth's trance a bit longer. But a promise is a promise—you didn't feel a thing, did you?"

I shook my head, still a little dazed. "No, I didn't." My eyes drifted to Morgoth's tail, where the sting was now glowing a vivid red, pulsing faintly. "How did she extract the blood if she didn't bite me?"

"The extraction was a success," Vantos said, grabbing Morgoth's tail in his hand. "You see, Morgoth's sting isn't like a traditional fang. There's a thinner needle hidden inside the sting—a conduit designed to extract blood from the host without causing pain or alarm. It's meant to be discreet, and by the looks of it, she did her job perfectly."

"So, she didn't need to bite or use brute force... that's impressive."

"It is," Vantos said, stroking Morgoth's feathers gently. "But she's a bit of a peculiar case. Normally, after feeding, Azyrian serpents like her would devour or kill their prey outright in their awakened state. They would drain the blood fully and leave nothing behind. In their slumbering state, they're only interested in feeding and returning to their nest. However, my girl has been under my care since she was a hatchling. She's never experienced the true wilderness, never had to hunt or escape before her sleep cycle kicks in. That naivety might cost her dearly if she ever finds herself in the wild. But none of that concerns us now. The good news is that there's more than enough blood stored in her sting to meet the requirements of our deal."

"Then we're ready?"

"Yes, we'd better get moving. If we delay any longer, your Luna wolf might reach the point of no return. Unlike Morgoth's feeding cycle, what she's experiencing is far more dangerous. And depending on her current health, the ritual to help her could be... painful. For both of you."

He extended his hand, helping me up from the floor. "Also, I think your servants are a bit on edge," he added with a smirk. "They just watched Morgoth's little feeding display. From their perspective, they witnessed her dominating and feeding on you, causing a lot of displeasure among them. You might want to reassure them that you're alive, well, and not a walking blood donor."

"Let me worry about them. I didn't feel a thing, so as far as I'm concerned, it never happened. I don't care how painful this ritual of yours is going to be. I just want to help Annie survive."

"After you, young master," Vantos said, holding the cage door open. "We've got work to do."

Vantos closed the cage door, muttering a few words under his breath as the magic sealed the latch. Then, he turned to me with a faint smirk. "I'll meet you at your estate, young master. But before I arrive, I'll need to secure some new wheels to transport these corpses to the hunters' estate. And for that..." His smirk widened. "I'll have to wake Morgoth from her slumber."

Without missing a beat, he pulled a silver crest from his pocket, etched with runes that seemed to pulse faintly even before the spell began. He held it in front of the peacefully sleeping Morgoth, who remained still for the moment. Vantos began to whisper, the crest began to glow with an eerie golden hue, pulsing in sync with the runes etched across it.

As the glow intensified, Vantos gave me a sideways glance. "I know everything has been a bit sudden, and you just met my little girl. But let me tell you something important—Azyrian serpents aren't just cute, slumbering creatures. They're also monsters."

"I gathered that when she drained my blood without leaving a scratch."

Vantos chuckled. "In their slumbering state, yes, they're adorable, gentle even. But wake them up fully, and you're looking at a completely different beast. An angry Azyrian serpent is a force you do not want to mess with. When agitated, they're territorial, predatory, and more than capable of devouring something three times their size."

"And you're waking her up now?"

"Relax," Vantos said. "I've trained her. She won't attack me—or anyone I tell her not to. But for the poor fools who thought burning down my club and attacking my domain was a good idea? Let's just say Morgoth will enjoy herself tonight. If the hunters decide to attack us while dropping the corpses on their front lawn, Morgoth will have a feast tonight, just like Titus did."

"Servus meus, dominus tuus imperat, dimitte veram formam tuam."

(My servant, your master commands you—release your true form.)

The words echoed throughout the old building, creating ripples of energy under the cage. Morgoth stirred, her wings fluttering slightly, and her body began to change. The glowing light from the crest intensified as her form shifted—her feathers lengthened, her tail stretched further, and her wings unfurled with a commanding presence. She no longer looked like the small, sleepy creature she had been moments ago. Instead, Morgoth had fully awakened, her deep black eyes gleamed with a predator's intensity.

A pair of swirling horns sprouted from her head, curving slightly backward, exuding raw, dark energy. "Isn't she a beauty?" Vantos said, admiring Morgoth's monstrous form. Morgoth let out a piercing screech, her sting scraped against the cage as she struck the bars with relentless fury. The entire room shook under the force of her rage.

"You might want to let her out before she destroys the cage."

Without hesitation, Vantos flicked his wrist, and the cage lifted from the ground, dissolving into thin air. The moment she was freed, Morgoth slithered forward, stopping in front of Vantos. She lowered her head as he reached up, running his hand along the side of her face. Then, a gentle sound is heard around Vantos, a screech in a different tone entering his ears. "Are you certain?" Vantos asked.

Morgoth let out another sharp cry, her wings flaring wide, sending a powerful gust of wind throughout the building, shaking its very foundation.

"Hold on sweetie. There's no need to get upset about little details. I will convey your message to the young master."

"Wait... You can understand what she says?" I asked, crossing my arms. "I thought you could only communicate with demons."

Vantos chuckled, rubbing the underside of Morgoth's jaw as she let out a deep, guttural purr. "Azyrian serpents aren't just mindless beasts, young master. They carry an ancient consciousness. Not words exactly—more like thoughts, emotions, and intentions. Over the years, I've learned how to communicate with her. Besides, I never said demons were the only creatures I could communicate with. If the creature has dark energy within them, there's a pretty good chance I will be able to understand it."

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"So, she is a demon, but not yet one?"

"Kind of. What do you think she'll become once she reaches maturity? Morgoth is the offspring of Xil'ethan, the Serpent King of the Azyrian race. Xil'ethan is the only known Azyrian serpent capable of wielding and controlling the destructive power of dark energy. He entrusted her to me after the human invasion of the Ethran Plains, knowing she would be hunted and taken as a prisoner to force the king to vacate the planes. Unfortunately for the invaders, it didn't go as they planned. But I must say, this reaction of hers was... puzzling. Morgoth told me that after feeding from your body, she could taste the traces of dark energy inside of you, young master."

I stiffened. "Please explain."

Morgoth approached Vanto's ears again, screeching at a fast pace. "Really? No wonder I couldn't pinpoint the source. This is quite... disturbing." Vantos said, turning towards me. "After reading for endless hours and trying to trace the origins of the seal carved into your mind, I came up with... nothing. It was unlike anything I had seen before. But now, thanks to Morgoth's insight, It finally makes sense. You have multiple types of dark energy merging inside of you. Your Demon Wolf blood is one of them. But there's something else. Something ancient. The residual energy from the spell used to forge the seal in your mind it's... interesting. That seal isn't just a barrier—it was created using Cabal magic to prevent others from altering its purpose."

"Cabal magic?"

"Kabbalah Necrótica, is the term scholars in Adams use to describe pure dark energy. As Morgoth pointed out, the Cabal magic surrounding the seal in your mind wasn't created by a single warlock as I originally assumed. It was woven by a collective—an entire group of warlocks working in unison. That changes everything. To truly understand the extent of dark magic, you must become a practitioner. Elemental magic? That's child's play—boring and insanely easy to wield. But dark magic? It's an entirely different world. Cabal magic isn't just powerful—it's chaotic. It's most commonly used by necromancers, warlocks who specialize in manipulating death itself. Unlike other forms of dark magic, this Cabal energy isn't drawn from a single source—it's a fusion of multiple strands of dark energy, gathered from different origins to create something far greater than what any individual caster could achieve."

Morgoth approached again, talking to Vantos close to his ear. "Definitely. I'm not sure if he will be up for that kind of trip," Vantos said. Then, Morgoth became upset, fluttering her massive wings. "Alright, alright, I'll ask. I bet your father is thrilled to see me. It's been a few decades since he was able to feed from me."

He glanced at me, exhaling slowly. "Morgoth wants to visit her home and she wants to take you with her. She believes her father might have an idea on how to undo the seal."

"You're saying the Serpent King knows something about it?"

"He might. And if he doesn't, he might know someone who does. Xil'ethan is an ancient being. His knowledge of dark energy surpasses anything the warlocks, vampires, or even the werewolves of Adams Town could comprehend. If anyone can trace the origins of the seal binding your memories, it's him."

"Fine. But before I decide to let Morgoth drag me into her father's lair, there's something else I need to ask."

"Go on."

"The group of necromancers you talked about earlier—the ones who use Cabal magic—are they the same ones appearing near Moonshade Hollow?"

Vantos's smirk faded. "That's just one faction. The Revenants of the Ashen Circle. I've made a few deals with some of them in the past, but I tend to keep my distance whenever possible. They're obsessed with the dark arts—so much so that even the Warlock Trade Clan cast them out. They either deserted or were exiled for going too far." He leaned back against the wall, his fingers drumming idly against his arm. "If these are the same necromancers tampering with your seal, we've got a problem. They don't just dabble in forbidden magic; they worship it."

I frowned. "Harold's funeral is taking place in Moonshade Hollow tomorrow night. There have been reports of these necromancers roaming the area. If they're gathering there, it's not just to mourn the dead."

"It doesn't surprise me. Necromancers are parasites, feeding on the lingering traces of life force. Their power hinges on this essence, using it to bend the dead to their will. Surely, you understand—Harold's body must not be buried in that place. If it is, he will become nothing more than a puppet for a necromancer."

"He's going to be cremated. I won't allow his body to be defiled by those people."

"Do not let the actions of one man cloud your judgment of the Revenants," Vantos said. "Not all of them are driven by malice. As someone who has studied the dark arts, I've come to appreciate their knowledge—it's far deeper than you might expect. You may want to reconsider your stance on necromancers. They could be of great help unraveling the barrier that has locked away your memories."

"Fine. We'll do it your way," I said. "But it's time to go. We'll wait for you at the guest house—don't be late."

Vantos smirked and snapped his fingers. "No worries. I always keep my end of the bargain."

Almost instantly, the dimly lit office pulsed with an unnatural energy. The lights flickered erratically as Titus' sentinels emerged from the shadows, each one carrying a corpse within its bloated form. Vantos knelt, picking up the frogs one by one and swallowing them whole.

I watched with a hint of disgust, hesitating before speaking. "I need one more favor."

"Oh?" He continued swallowing the frogs, barely glancing at me. "Go ahead, ask away. What's on your mind?"

"Could you zap us out of here? We're half-naked, and, well... walking a few blocks like this would be more than a little humiliating."

Morgoth let out a screech, slinking away from Vantos with visible displeasure.

"Looks like Morgoth is volunteering to take you home. This dynamic between primal blood and dark energy beings never ceases to fascinate me. First Titus, now Morgoth? At this rate, I'll run out of familiars and pets just by spending time with you."

"I think I'll take my chances with the portal, thanks."

Morgoth suddenly unleashed a deafening shriek. "I suggest you accept her offer. Upsetting this lady can be... excruciating."

"Alright, alright. But what about the rest of my pack?"

In the blink of an eye, Vantos disappeared, reappearing in front of Antolio. He placed his index finger on his forehead, closing his eyes. "Last Chance Thrift... that's where your vehicle is. Very well, I'll make sure they get a quick zap over."

As Vantos kept his finger pressed against Antolio's forehead, a glowing sigil formed on the ground beside him. A crack split open in the air, shimmering with energy. Without hesitation, Vantos reached inside and pulled the tear wider, revealing the entrance to the thrift store.

"You've got a few minutes before this tear in the veil vanishes. Unless you're in the mood for a long walk home, I suggest you move quickly. As for us, let's not keep the lady waiting," Vantos said, gesturing toward Morgoth.

I watched the others step through the rip, each glancing back at me one last time. "I'll be fine," I assured them. "Meet me in front of the guest house—we'll be there soon."

Morgoth slithered closer, lowering her massive serpentine form before us. "Hop on, young master," Vantos said. "Morgoth is in an unusually cooperative mood. That's good news for me—it means she won't shake me off midair while you're riding on her back. Unless, of course, you accidentally pluck one of her feathers... then we'll have a very different problem on our hands."

"I'll try to be as gentle as possible," I said, gripping Morgoth's back carefully. "And by the way, swallowing all those black frogs—impressive and disgusting at the same time. You might want to find a less revolting method."

Vantos chuckled. "Oh, young master, you've seen only a fraction of what I can do. Swallowing frogs is hardly the most unsettling ritual in my arsenal. There are other familiars... ones that demand far more gruesome methods of interaction."

Suddenly, Morgoth spread her wings. A violent gust erupted from inside the old office, tearing through the space like a hurricane. Papers, debris, and loose objects whirled into chaos as she took flight, smashing through the roof and soaring into the night sky.

It was my first time seeing the town from above. The night was calm, the clouds shifting aside as if making way for our swift approach to the Hunter Estate. As Morgoth hovered over the entrance, two guards below immediately caught sight of us.

"They've spotted us," I said.

"Perfect timing," Vantos said. "I can't hold Titus' sentinels in my belly any longer—they drain too much of my life force. Tell me, have you ever heard the phrase 'it's raining frogs in the bayou'?"

"No, I'm not a fan of country music."

"Country music? What's that?"

I sighed. "Never mind."

Morgoth landed heavily in front of the guards, her powerful wings kicking up dust and loose gravel. The guards wasted no time, immediately sounding the alarm. Within moments, the estate's front yard erupted with movement as hunters rushed out, weapons at the ready.

Vantos barely waited for Morgoth to settle before he staggered forward, clutching his stomach. A low, guttural groan escaped him as his body convulsed. Then, with a violent heave, he dropped to his knees and retched. A thick, unnatural gurgle filled the air, followed by a wet, sloshing sound as his mouth stretched open far beyond human limits.

The first sentinel spilled out slowly from his mouth. Then, a grotesque, amorphous mass encased in yellow slime, slowly slid out hitting the ground. Then another frog, and another, each one sliding from his throat in sickening, viscous waves. His entire body jerked and spasmed as if his very being fought against expelling the creatures. Thick strands of saliva and bile clung to his lips, stretching between his teeth as he wretched the last of them onto the ground.

The hunters hesitated, gripping their weapons, their expressions twisted between disgust and confusion. Before them stood not the monstrous abominations they expected, but an army of black frogs, twitching and croaking as they landed unceremoniously in the dirt.

The sudden stillness that followed was eerie. The frogs simply hopped about, unbothered, oblivious to the tension around them.

Vantos wiped his mouth with his sleeve, revealing a malevolent smirk. "Give Chief Harrow this message."

With a snap of his fingers, the frogs began to tremble. A heartbeat later, they exploded violently, splattering Titus' thick, yellow saliva in every direction. The hunters recoiled, shrieking as the foul substance coated their armor and skin. Some stumbled, clawing at their faces, while most of them, remained still, due to the numbing effect of Titus' slime.

"Next time he thinks he can invade my domain," Vantos growled, his voice dripping with menace, "I will unleash every demon under my command inside his own house—even if it costs me my life!"

Vantos turned on his heel and mounted Morgoth, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he surveyed the chaos left in his wake. "That should send the message loud and clear."

"You really love to be dramatic, don't you?" I said, shaking my head.

"At least give me some credit for the execution," he said, his tone smug. "I managed to incapacitate every hunter without a single bolt fired from their weapons. That's the art of performance—keeping the audience captivated and ensuring no one dares leave before the final act." He reached down, touching Morgoth's face with an almost affectionate touch.

"Let's get going, beautiful," he said. "A Luna wolf is waiting for us."