In the deepest reaches of Commorragh.
Ninety percent of the archons in Dark City's Conspiracy Cabals were gathered in this shadowy chamber.
The archons watched Viktor with anxious, terrified eyes as he pulled his hand from a traitor's heart.
Several hours had passed since news arrived that the invaders had launched their attack.
The first thing Viktor had ordered his Conspiracy Cabal to do was not confront the enemy, but carry out indiscriminate slaughter in certain areas of Commorragh's core.
Only after a massacre had ended, when everyone was steeped in fear, did Viktor summon the archons.
"Facing a great enemy, we must join hands and weather this crisis together."
"As for those harboring ulterior motives, those who wish to see all of Commorragh and every one of us consumed by war, I will show no mercy."
Viktor's voice echoed throughout the chamber.
Then the archons watched him wipe the blood from his hand on the dead man's robes.
Everyone present was an archon who had waded through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, clawing their way through heaps of the dead.
Thinking he could frighten them merely by killing one person was wishful thinking.
Yet the archons were still afraid. They did not fear Viktor himself, but the schemes in his mind and the formidable military strength of his personal Conspiracy Cabal.
Asking Viktor and his Conspiracy Cabal to drive away the invaders was asking too much.
But dragging out every archon and slaughtering them all would be effortless for him.
"Chromis."
The ruler of Dark City turned his gaze upon a female archon among the crowd.
Chromis was a ruthless figure, but when Viktor fixed his eyes on her, she could not help feeling afraid.
"Don't be afraid." Viktor smiled as he walked up to Chromis,