Chapter 7 - The Trial of Blood and Iron
Fenris marched straight toward the royal vault, his silver aura sweeping away the smoke and flames like a refreshing breeze.
Before he could reach the heavy bronze doors of the vault, the stone floor exploded upward. Alpha Merrick—his mind twisted by desperation and Caspian’s dark blood-magic—leaped out from the shadows, transformed into a massive, sixteen-foot-tall monstrous shadow-wolf with glowing red eyes.
“I will not lose everything to a stable hand!” Merrick roared, his voice distorted into a terrifying screech.
Merrick slammed his massive razor-sharp claws down toward Fenris, intending to crush him into paste.
Vana drew her hunting daggers, ready to spring forward, but Fenris placed a calm hand on her shoulder, gently stepping in front of her.
He didn’t transform. He didn’t draw a weapon.
Fenris simply opened his mouth and uttered a single, ancient word in the language of the First Kings.
“OBEY.”
The sound wasn’t loud, but it echoed with the weight of mountains collapsing.
Merrick’s massive monstrous form froze mid-air. The dark magic infusing his blood shattered like glass under the absolute authority of the command.
Merrick crashed heavily onto the marble floor, his massive body shrinking rapidly back into his bruised, battered human form. His inner wolf didn’t just submit—it buried itself deep into his soul, howling in absolute terror, refusing to ever surface again.
Merrick clawed at the flagstones, weeping uncontrollably, completely broken by the sheer disparity in their power.
“You ruled through fear, Merrick,” Fenris said, looking down at the broken man without anger, only pity. “And fear is a fragile shield.”
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Fenris walked past the weeping Alpha, stepping up to the massive bronze doors of the vault. He placed his bare palm against the three-foot-thick solid metal.
With a soft hum of silvery light, the bronze melted like warm butter, exposing the dark underground vault where Lord Caspian and his blood-mages waited.
