As the banners of the Sovereign Legion unfurled across the skies—deep crimson stitched with black lightning—the world stirred.
To the North, the Snow-Fanged Kingdom, ruled by the ancient Frostblood Clan, received the proclamation.
"Zairon declares the world his? Hah! Let him try."
King Hrold, a cold-blooded S-Rank sovereign himself, scoffed.
But when his scouts returned with tales of razed cities, guilds on their knees, and mountains cleaved in half, that scoff turned into silence.
And then came the message.
A letter, simple and clean, burned at the edges with spiritual fire.
"Submit or be shattered. You have three days to kneel." —The Mad Sovereign
That night, King Hrold vanished. No body, no blood, just... gone.
His entire royal palace surrendered the next dawn, dropping the Frostfang Banner and raising the Sovereign Flag instead.
To the West, the Crimson Blade Republic, known for their mercenaries and elite S-Rank assassins, plotted to resist.
"We are not some village to scare with threats. Let him come," said Guildmaster Vael.
But when an entire strike force of theirs was returned—alive but broken, their minds shattered from fear and madness—they held an emergency council.
When the Roc soared over their capital, shrieking like a harbinger of doom, Guildmaster Vael personally bowed.
"Tell Zairon the Crimson Blade will serve. We... see the future now."
To the South, however, was defiance.
The Azure Sky Sect, hidden in floating islands and boasting an elder said to be near SSS-Rank, laughed at the idea.
They prepared an army, declaring:
"Let the Mad Dog come. We'll leash him."
Zairon, seated in his sky throne, just chuckled.
"Prepare a gift. Let's pluck one of their floating islands out of the sky. Just one. Let them scream."
And so it was.
The Fourth Sky Island fell from the heavens, crashing into the sea, its spirit barrier shattered like glass.
The message was clear:
Defy me, and I will tear your heavens down.
Obey me, and I shall raise you higher than ever.
Many bowed. Some trembled. A few disappeared.
And at the heart of it all, Zairon sat laughing, surrounded by maps, memories, and madness.
"Now," he whispered to his commanders, his eyes gleaming like twin comets,
"bring me the world. We're only getting started."