His amber eyes fixed on Jaenor with unsettling intensity.
"And you are the one who arrived on that beast.
Identify yourself."
Before Jaenor could respond, Katujit’s gaze swept across the group, landing on Morgana and Raelana. His expression hardened instantly.
"Witches," he said, the word carrying disgust.
"Practitioners of corrupt origin energy. Servants of forces that mock the divine order."
His hand moved to his sword.
"They are not welcome in areas under Brotherhood protection. They should be detained, questioned, and if found guilty of heresy—"
"You’ll do nothing," Jaenor interrupted, his voice carrying absolute authority. His merged power flared slightly, making the air shimmer.
"Those women are under my protection. Touch them, and you answer to me."
Katujit’s ears flattened slightly, a sign of aggression in his species.
"You defend witches? That makes you complicit in their—"
He stopped, his enhanced senses finally processing what he was feeling from Jaenor.
The power radiating from the young man wasn’t pure aura like the Brotherhood wielded. It wasn’t origin energy like the witches used. It was both, unified, creating something that defied the Brotherhood’s theological framework.
"What are you?" Katujit demanded, genuine uncertainty entering his voice.
"I’m Jaenor Arkwright. This is my home village. And I’m the one who just drove off a demon legion led by one of the Seven Sins to keep this place safe." Jaenor’s tone was flat, brooking no argument. "So when I say those witches are under my protection, when I say you’ll treat everyone in this village with respect, you listen."
He took a step forward, and his six wings manifested—translucent, radiating power in multiple dimensions, impossible to fully perceive with normal senses.
"Or we can test which is stronger—your Qu’achi or my origin aura. Your choice, General."
The square had gone silent. Both military forces watched tensely, hands on weapons. The villagers looked terrified, caught between forces they couldn’t hope to influence.
Katujit stared at Jaenor for several long moments, clearly wrestling with doctrine and pragmatism. The Brotherhood taught that origin energy was corruption, that only pure aura granted by their god was acceptable. But this boy wielded both, unified in ways that shouldn’t be possible.
And he’d driven off a demon legion. The general had received reports of the battle, knew that Draelusa himself had withdrawn rather than continue fighting. That spoke to capability beyond normal measure.
Finally, Katujit’s hand moved away from his sword.
"The Brotherhood does not approve of witches," he said carefully. "But we are here to fight demons, not to create conflicts with potential allies. Your... companions... will not be detained as long as they commit no acts of heresy."
It wasn’t acceptance, but it was enough. For now.
"And the villagers?" Jaenor pressed. "I saw people being forced to work in your camps. Saw your soldiers treating free citizens like servants."
Katujit’s expression showed no shame.
"We require support for our operations. Food, water, labor to maintain equipment. The villagers are providing necessary assistance."
"They’re being enslaved," Valara interjected, her voice hard. "Your soldiers take what they want, force our people to work without compensation, and threaten violence if we resist."
The militia captain looked uncomfortable but said nothing—clearly he’d witnessed this but lacked the authority to intervene.
Jaenor’s merged power pulsed dangerously.
"That ends. Now. You want supplies? You negotiate fair trade and pay appropriate prices. You need labor? You hire willing workers at reasonable rates. You treat these people as citizens rather than resources to be exploited."
"The Brotherhood operates under divine mandate—" Katujit began.
"I don’t care about your mandates," Jaenor interrupted. "These are my people. This is my village. You’re here because demon forces threatened this region, and I appreciate that you were fighting them. But that doesn’t give you the right to abuse civilians."
He let his wings spread wider, power building visibly.
"So here’s what’s going to happen. You’ll release anyone you’ve forced into labor. You’ll establish fair exchange systems for any supplies you need. And you’ll station your camps far enough from the village that your soldiers can’t casually harass the population."
"And if I refuse?" Katujit asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
"Then I’ll remove your forces personally," Jaenor said simply. "I don’t want to. We’re all supposed to be fighting demons, not each other. But I won’t tolerate the people I care about being mistreated by those claiming to protect them."
The general’s tail—thick and feline, barely visible beneath his armor—lashed once in clear agitation. But his eyes showed calculation rather than pure anger.
"You would start a conflict between your forces and the Brotherhood? Over supply arrangements?"
"I’d start a conflict to protect innocent people from abuse," Jaenor corrected. "The fact that you see those as different things tells me a lot about your priorities."
Katujit was silent for several moments. Then, surprisingly, he inclined his head slightly—not quite a bow, but acknowledgment.
"Very well. I will... adjust our supply protocols. Ensure that exchanges are equitable and that villagers are compensated appropriately for their assistance." His amber eyes narrowed. "But understand, Arkwright—this concession is made because we face greater enemies. The demons are the priority. Not because I accept your authority over Brotherhood operations."
"I don’t need you to accept my authority," Jaenor said. "I need you to stop abusing civilians. As long as that happens, how you justify it to yourself is your business."
The general turned and stalked back toward his camp, his posture radiating displeasure but also grudging respect. He’d been challenged publicly and backed down—that would cost him face with his subordinates. But he was also smart enough to recognize that fighting Jaenor would cost far more.
As Katujit departed, the militia captain approached more cautiously.
"Lord Arkwright—thank you. We’ve been trying to get the Brotherhood to ease their demands for weeks, but they’ve ignored us. Your intervention—"
"Shouldn’t have been necessary," Jaenor said, though not unkindly. "But I’m glad it helped. What’s the military situation? How bad is the demon threat actually?"