I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

“Looks like quite a lot of faces are still missing from our usual gathering,” Laguna observed as everyone settled into their designated seats around the table, his twisted smile widening slightly as his eyes swept across the conspicuous empty chairs.

Indeed, several faces that had become regular fixtures at these council meetings were notably absent today . Over the past three years, the council’s composition had evolved considerably beyond just the original demon commanders. Others had joined this inner circle of strategic planning—particularly Helen, Clytemnestra, and Astynome, all of whom had proven themselves valuable contributors to military discussions despite not holding formal command positions. Their unique perspectives and connections to various Achaeans kingdoms had made them assets worth including in high-level planning sessions.

But none of those three women were present in the chamber today .

“Kassandra traveled to Troy, accompanied by Astynome and Briseis,” Nathan explained calmly. “They departed approximately a week ago and should arrive within the next week or the one after.”

“Isn’t that somewhat dangerous, Lord Commander?” Kragen asked, though his perpetual grin suggested he wasn’t genuinely worried so much as seeking clarification . “Your son Laios is traveling with them, and all three women are, well… intimately connected to you. That makes them potentially valuable targets if anyone wanted to strike at you indirectly. Kidnapping or assassination attempts aren’t beyond the realm of possibility .”

The concern was valid, even if delivered with Kragen’s characteristic casualness . Nathan’s relationships were hardly secret at this point at least here in Tenebria, and enemies and spies seeking leverage against him might see his women and children as vulnerable pressure points .

“Charybdis is accompanying them as protection,” Nathan replied without hesitation, his tone making clear he had already considered and addressed this exact concern . “She’s more than capable of handling any conventional threats they might encounter on the road, and her presence serves as sufficient deterrent against anything more exotic .”

Several heads nodded around the table at that reassurance. They all knew about Charybdis. They sometimes saw her in the castle, one of Nathan’s very loyal Devil Knights, his own knights loyal to only him.

Nathan was obviously not going to allow three of his women and his young son Laios to travel unprotected across potentially hostile territory. He might trust in their individual capabilities to some degree, but prudence demanded proper security measures regardless of personal confidence .

“As for Helen and Clytemnestra,” Nathan continued, addressing the other notable absences, “they departed for the Spartan Kingdom several weeks ago. It’s been longer than initially planned, but they should be returning soon enough—possibly within the next few days if negotiations concluded successfully .”

Sparta held special significance for both women—it was their birthplace, the kingdom where they’d spent their formative years before circumstances scattered them across the Achaeans world. Recently, a new king had been appointed to Sparta’s throne following the death of Menelaus in the Trojan War, and this new ruler happened to be a distant uncle of both Helen and Clytemnestra through complicated family lineages .

The sisters had volunteered to pay an official visit to their homeland, offering to rebuild diplomatic bonds with the new king and ensure Sparta remained favorably disposed toward Tenebria’s interests. It was sound political strategy—personal connections often proved more reliable than formal treaties when circumstances grew complicated .

Obviously, Nathan hadn’t allowed them to travel alone either, regardless of Helen’s royal status or Clytemnestra’s considerable personal power. He had assigned Scylla as their bodyguard and escort.

Helen was heavily pregnant and should be giving birth any day now, possibly had already delivered if timing worked against their travel schedule. Nathan absolutely refused to take unnecessary risks with her safety or the child’s welfare during such a vulnerable period .

Initially, he hadn’t wanted to permit her departure at all, concerned that traveling in late pregnancy was recklessly dangerous regardless of precautions. Clytemnestra had supported his objection, adamantly opposing any plan that might endanger her younger sister’s life or complicate the pregnanc .

But Helen had insisted with characteristic stubbornness, arguing that visiting Sparta was her duty as both a daughter of that kingdom and as someone who could genuinely strengthen Tenebria’s political positio . She had also admitted, more quietly, that she wanted to see her birthplace again before becoming a mother—wanted to reconnect with her roots and perhaps find some closure regarding her complicated past .

In the end, Nathan had relented despite his misgivings. He wasn’t going to imprison his women or override their decisions when they felt strongly about something . He would protect them, provide them with every possible advantage and safeguard, but ultimately he had to respect their agency and autonomy . Anything else would transform his relationships from partnerships into captivity .

“Let’s proceed to the actual matters at hand,” Nathan said firmly, shifting the subject away from personal concerns toward strategic business His golden eyes fixed on Kratos with expectant attention. “What’s the current intelligence regarding the Light Empire’s military posture ?”

Kratos straightened in his chair, his massive frame somehow becoming even more imposing as he adopted a formal reporting stance.

“We’ve dispatched multiple scout teams over the past several months to gather information,” he began, his deep voice carrying clearly through the chamber . “The results have been… concerning. As we expected based on previous patterns, the Light Empire has been substantially reinforcing their border defenses. They’ve increased troop concentrations at every major crossing point, established new watchtowers and fortifications at previously undefended locations, and implemented significantly more aggressive patrol schedules.”

His scarred face tightened with frustration as he continued .

“It’s become nearly impossible for any demon to penetrate their borders without being detected and engaged. The security measures specifically target demonic energy signatures, making infiltration extraordinarily difficult even for our most skilled operatives. And the demons who were already inside the Light Empire before these new measures were implemented are in an extremely precarious position .”

Kratos’s hands clenched into fists on the table surface, knuckles whitening with suppressed anger.

“The Divine Knights have ordered a comprehensive search throughout the entire empire to identify and locate every demon within their territory,” he said, barely contained rage coloring his words . “The ones who’ve been discovered were immediately executed—no trials, no questions, no mercy. Just summary execution the moment their true nature was confirmed. We’ve lost contact with at least a dozen long-term intelligence assets over the past year, almost certainly killed during these purges .”

A heavy silence settled over the council chamber as everyone absorbed the implications of systematic extermination.

“And it appears they’re preparing for war or something equally significant,” Cadell added, his aged voice carrying the weight of decades spent analyzing political and military patterns. “Multiple indicators point toward major mobilization—increased weapons production, stockpiling of supplies, recall of veteran soldiers from retirement, expansion of training facilities. However, I must caution that our information isn’t entirely trustworthy given how difficult intelligence gathering has become.”

The old demon’s expression was troubled, clearly uncomfortable reporting conclusions based on incomplete data .

“The information is trustworthy,” Nathan stated with absolute confidence, cutting through Cadell’s uncertainty. “I’ve received correspondence from a source inside the Light Empire—someone extremely reliable and well-positioned to observe high-level military planning. According to these letters, the Divine Knights have spent the entire past year personally overseeing comprehensive military reforms, directly training the imperial army and implementing new tactical doctrines.”

He didn’t mention the identity of his source, but internally he was thinking of Aisha—his woman and also spy embedded at the highest levels of the Light Empire’s power structure. She was quite literally the best intelligence asset he could possibly hope for, positioned to observe Divine Knight activities while maintaining her cover so perfectly that no one suspected her true loyalties .

When they weren’t discussing their personal lives, sharing updates about their daughter, or expressing feelings that couldn’t be safely voiced aloud, their letters focused on exchanging critical strategic information. Aisha provided detailed reports on military movements, political developments, and internal conflicts within the Light Empire’s leadership. In return, Nathan kept her informed about broader geopolitical shifts that might affect her situation or create opportunities for sabotage.

Everyone around the table looked genuinely surprised at Nathan’s confident assertion, clearly not having expected such definitive intelligence. But notably, no one questioned his source or demanded he reveal where this information originated. They had learned over three years that Nathan maintained intelligence networks they weren’t privy to, and pressing him for details he chose not to share was pointless.

“Are they preparing for war specifically against us?” Megara asked, her small frame tensing with barely contained aggression as she spoke through clenched teeth . “Is Tenebria their primary target, or are they mobilizing for some other conflict?”

“So are we preparing for war,” Nathan replied simply, neither confirming nor denying the question’s premise . “Whether they strike first or we do becomes somewhat irrelevant if both sides are building toward inevitable confrontation .”

“Then are we ready for this conflict?” Laguna asked, his voice carrying unusual seriousness despite the excited gleam in his eyes and the widening of his perpetual twisted smile . He was clearly thrilled at the prospect of finally getting to tear apart the Divine Knights and their sanctimonious soldiers .

“We have secured alliances with the Roman Empire, the Amun Ra Empire, and to a lesser extent the Kastoria Kingdom, all thanks to the Lord Commander’s diplomatic efforts over the past three years,” Kratos said, his tone carrying genuine respect for Nathan’s political maneuvering . “Depending on how many soldiers each ally is willing to commit to our cause, we might actually have sufficient military strength to face the Light Empire and the Divine Knights in open warfare with reasonable chances of victory.”

“Not yet,” Nathan cut him off sharply before optimism could take root .

Every face turned toward him with varying expressions of surprise and confusion .

“Kastoria is not yet our unconditional ally,” Nathan explained with careful precision, his tone making clear this distinction mattered enormously. “I want their genuine cooperation—their people willingly fighting alongside us because they believe in the cause—not forcing them into a conflict against the Light Empire that they maintained friendly relations with until just three years ago. If we coerce them into participation, the risk of betrayal becomes dangerously high. Resentful allies are worse than declared enemies because you can’t properly defend against treachery from those supposedly fighting beside you .”

The logic was sound enough that heads nodded in acknowledgment around the table. Forced alliances were notoriously unstable, prone to collapse at the worst possible moments when battlefield conditions grew desperate.

“That’s precisely why I will personally travel to Kastoria next,” Nathan announced, the declaration clearly shocking most of those present. “I need to handle this matter directly .”

“Lord Commander, surely you don’t need to personally involve yourself in diplomatic negotiations,” Cadell protested gently, concern evident in his weathered features. “We have capable ambassadors and negotiators who could represent Tenebria’s interests without requiring your direct presence. Your value here coordinating overall strategy is too significant to risk on a single diplomatic mission .”

“I will go regardless,” Nathan stated with absolute finality, his tone brooking no argument . “This matter requires my personal attention. End of discussion .”

Cadell fell silent immediately, recognizing when Nathan had made an irreversible decision .

“So after we successfully obtain Kastoria’s full military commitment, we launch our attack on the Light Empire?” Kratos asked, seeking clarification about the strategic timeline .

“There are still other matters that need addressing before we can responsibly attack the Light Empire,” Nathan replied, shaking his head . “They cannot be underestimated—their military strength is formidable, their Divine Knights are genuinely powerful, and they almost certainly have contingencies and hidden capabilities we haven’t discovered yet. Until we know every relevant secret they’re hiding, until we’ve identified all their strengths and weaknesses, we absolutely do not attack them. Rushing into confrontation before we’re truly ready would be catastrophic.”

“That’s somewhat surprising, if you don’t mind me saying so, Lord Commander,” Kratos admitted, genuine puzzlement coloring his normally confident voice . “I expected you to be far more impatient about attacking that particular kingdom.”

He was right to be surprised . From the very beginning, Nathan had never hidden his intense hatred for the Light Empire and everything it represented. His personal vendetta against that nation was well known to everyone in this room.

“My hatred for them is precisely the reason I must approach this carefully and methodically,” Nathan replied, his golden eyes growing colder and harder. “Emotional decision-making leads to strategic mistakes. The more personally invested I am in an outcome, the more disciplined I must be in my planning. I will not allow my desire for vengeance to compromise the safety of Tenebria or the lives of those I care about. When we finally strike at the Light Empire, it will be with overwhelming force, perfect timing, and complete preparation—not as a reckless assault driven by impatience.”

Everyone around the table nodded at Nathan’s words, the motion almost unanimous, heavy with quiet understanding.

In the last three years, none of them could deny how much he had changed.

He was still ruthless when the situation demanded it—no one here would ever mistake him for a soft ruler—but that ruthlessness was no longer blind or impulsive. It was measured now, guided by foresight and restraint. Nathan no longer thought only of victory or survival in the moment; he thought in terms of consequences, balance, and the future he was shaping.

Becoming the husband of many women—and more importantly, a father to several children—had altered him in ways no battlefield ever could. Responsibility had settled into his bones. Every decision he made now carried the weight of lives that depended on him, not just as a commander, but as a man. And, to their quiet relief, that weight had tempered the sharpest edges of his nature.

After all, none of them truly wanted a cold, merciless killer to stand as Lord Commander forever. They wanted a ruler—one who could still stain his hands when necessary, but who understood why he did so.

“That will be all concerning the Light Empire,” Nathan said, his voice calm but final. His pale eyes swept the room once more. “For now, simply gather information if you can. Nothing more. The Queen will handle the kingdom’s internal matters.”

He paused briefly before adding, “As for dealings with Tenebria itself, report to her directly.”

This arrangement was nothing new. Unless a matter was of extreme urgency, Azariah presided over the councils concerning the Kingdom of Tenebria. She managed its politics, administration, and internal stability with a steady hand, freeing Nathan to focus on external dangers—foreign powers, looming wars, and threats that could endanger the realm as a whole.

And when such threats arose, Nathan would either intervene personally or be summoned without delay.

At his dismissal, chairs scraped softly against the stone floor. One by one, those gathered rose to their feet and began to leave the chamber, their footsteps echoing faintly as they filed out in silence.

Semiramis stood as well, turning toward the exit with the others.

Before she could take more than a step, Nathan’s voice cut through the room.

“Not you, Semiramis.”