The first knock made every guard in the storage chamber choose stillness.
Elithira felt the choice move through them. Boots stopped scraping. Armor stopped shifting. Breath went quiet in throats that were trained to roar at enemies and hold themselves still around old palace problems.
The sound had come from the soul-door.
It stood in the center of the chamber under the Demon King's palace, sealed inside a ring of red script Sanguina had carved after the third storage breach. The first rule was simple enough for even frightened guards to read: hold. The second and third rules were longer and less comforting, which meant they were probably honest.
Soul jars lined the walls in black iron shelves. Some glowed. Some smoked. Some had names scratched into glass by hands that had lost the right to own fingers.
Ziues Riamone's jar sat three shelves above eye level, wrapped in two red chains and one silver ribbon that had appeared since yesterday's count.
The ribbon was Angelic.
