The burnt village had fallen eerily quiet. No more crackle of flames, no more shrieks of Karhux tearing through the night—just silence, broken only by the weary crunch of boots on ashen soil.
Kairo walked slowly, his hand resting against his side as though to hold himself upright. His body screamed for rest, but his mind was a storm of unease.
Ahead of him, Shiri bore the unconscious boy slung carefully across his serpentine back. The naga moved with surprising gentleness, though the exhaustion in his golden eyes was clear. Beside them marched the newly evolved ghoul, its lance angled against its shoulder, every step precise, every gesture protective. It did not slouch like the others—it carried itself like a knight sworn to a cause.
Yet the silence between them weighed heavier than the ruins behind.
Kairo's thoughts gnawed at him. He had promised Shiri safety, had sworn to shoulder the dangers of the ruins. Yet Karhux had nearly slaughtered them both while Kairo stood calculating and hesitating. Worse, it had not been his strike that ended the beast. It had been… something else. A force from the sky, unknowable and terrifying.
He clenched his fists. (I wasn't enough.)
As the skeletal outline of the half-built territory walls appeared in the distance, Kairo braced himself for what he thought was inevitable—the parting of paths.
The gate loomed before them, jagged wooden beams lashed together with iron nails. It was crude compared to the fortresses of seasoned lords, but it was his. Their footsteps slowed.
"Kairo."
The voice cut through his thoughts like steel. He turned, surprised. Shiri rarely spoke first.
For a moment, he prepared himself for the farewell. For the naga to say that his debts were paid, that he would take the boy elsewhere.
But Shiri's expression was calm. Firm. "I will stay."
Kairo blinked. "…Stay?"
"Yes." The naga's coils shifted, lowering the boy gently onto a stone near the gate. Shiri straightened, his tone unwavering. "I will remain in this territory. But—" his eyes sharpened—"there will be terms."
Kairo's heart skipped.
"First," Shiri continued, "I will not serve as your lesser. My standing here must be equal to yours in rank and in respect."
Kairo nodded instantly. "Fair."
"Second. I will not be forced to forge weapons I do not wish to create. I will choose what I craft."
Again, Kairo agreed. "Of course."
"And third—" Shiri's voice dropped to a low, weighty hiss—"never shall you use slavery. Not upon naga, not upon humans, not upon anyone."
Kairo paused. The word coiled in his thoughts. Slavery. He had not considered it, but he knew other may be open to it—binding the weak to fuel their rise. His jaw tightened. "I swear it. Those terms are fair."
Shiri studied him, searching for cracks, then gave a single nod. "Then we are agreed."
They passed through the gate in silence. Relief coursed through Kairo like fresh water. For the first time, Shiri had chosen him—not out of desperation, but out of will.
The boy was laid to rest in the single tier-one house, a fragile structure of black timber and stone. Kairo lingered only long enough to ensure his breathing was steady before he and Shiri turned toward the heart of the territory: The Black Spire.
The jagged tower pulsed faintly, its surface carved with runes, Within it pulsed the territory core—his lifeline, his terratory's heart.
Kairo reached into his satchel, pulling free the relic earned from Karhux's defeat. It glimmered faintly green, the Jade of Ruins, etched with swirling dragon motifs.
[ Relic Acquired: Jade of Ruins ]
Tier: 3
Effect: Summons Dragon-Blood Kabolts (Cost: 50 Energy)
Description: The bloodline of dragons burns within these kabolts, transfiguring them from furred beasts into scaled dragonoids. They bear the pride and ferocity of the draconic race.
Kairo's breath caught. A dragonic bloodline—rare beyond measure. He could almost feel the weight of power pressing from it. Yet another message shimmered across his vision:
[ System Notice ]
Warning: Due to absorption by Karhux prior to death, relic quality reduced.
Original Tier: 5 → Current Tier: 3
Kairo exhaled sharply. "So it was greater… but weakened." His fingers traced the edges of the jade.(Still, my relics can be leveled. Someday… it will reach Tier 5 again.)
He turned to the Black Spire. Within, his reserves had swelled—500 energy, a mark of his advancement to Tier 2. He had four relic slots now, one already bound to the Bloodstained Banner. Three open.
"This will be the second," he whispered.
The jade melted into streams of light as the Black Spire absorbed it. A ripple coursed through the territory, and a new option bloomed before Kairo:
[ New Summon Available: Dragon-Blood Kabolt ]
Kairo's pulse quickened. "Now… let's see you."
Shiri stood behind, arms crossed, watching with a mix of curiosity and unease.
But, this wasn't the only life changing moment happening right now, beyond kairo's terratory, the world was already stirring.
Far from the ruins, in a manor of marble and silver, a young girl with violet eyes knelt as her family scorned her.
"You are no heir of ours," spat one elder.
"You're a disgrace to our prestigious family," coldly remarked another elder. "Your are not worth the name of our great liniage."
The marble hall echoed with cruel voices.
"You bear no mark, no blessing of our line!" her uncle roared, slamming his cane on the floor. "A disgrace to the bloodline!"
Her mother's gaze was cold, sharp as glass. "Leave this house. You are no daughter of ours."
The girl stood trembling, violet eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Her fists clenched at her sides, but her lips did not move. She had no words left, no pleas that would be heard.
As the doors slammed shut behind her, she lowered her head. (I can't take this anymore…)
Not far from the ruins, band of raiders ravaged a village, their leader, armored in a more formal armour then his followers, rested his sword on his shoulder, "Another village claimed, hahaha,"
The bandits trudged across the charred plain, laughter and curses filling the night air. Their leader swung his broadsword lazily across his shoulder, eyes scanning the horizon. One of the scouts jogged up, breathless but grinning.
"Boss," he said, pointing toward the jagged silhouettes ahead, "we're close. The infamous ruins of the old world—just a mile more."
The leader's grin widened, teeth flashing in the firelight. "The old world, eh? Then it's treasure or blood waiting for us."
His men jeered, tightening grips on their blades, as the looming ruins whispered promises of fortune and death.
Within a fortress carved into stone, a man with white hair and beastlike eyes stood at a dais. Before him, cages creaked open. Beasts, twisted and raging, poured out.
"Release them," he commanded. "Let them claim the ruins."
Chains rattled like thunder as the stone gates groaned open. From the darkness padded a wolf the size of a house, its fur black as pitch, its eyes burning crimson like twin furnaces. A thick iron collar bound its neck, runes glowing faintly, but the beast strained against it, snarling with hunger. The white-haired, beast-eyed lord stood before it, unflinching, his gaze just as feral.
"Go," he commanded, his voice low, resonant.
The collar shattered. The wolf howled, a sound that shook the fortress walls, before leaping into the night to hunt.
The lord roared,"The labrenth will be mine!"
Close to the burnt village, Renn's voice shook through the crystal link. "Lord Lyra… something big is going to happen. Bigger than any of us. I used the appraisal artifact you gave me—when I looked at the new lord in the ruins, his details were hidden. All I saw were question marks."
Lyra's eyes widened. "That artifact can read even Tier 10 lords… for it to show nothing—" She cut herself off, her tone suddenly sharp. "Renn, watch over him. Do not let him out of your sight."
"My lord—" Renn began, but Lyra's voice overrode his.
"I am quickly coming there with the other two. Be patient, and endure. I will arrive there shortly."
The link dimmed, leaving Renn staring at the crystal with dry lips and pounding heart.
High above the world, in a cathedral suspended on clouds and chains, the blue-hooded man entered a vast hall. Figures sat around a marble table, each bearing a different number of wings. At the head loomed a being with ten wings, feathers like silver fire.
The hooded man bowed. "Gentlemen… let us discuss the new seeker."
The chamber fell silent, power pressing down like a mountain.
Back in the territory, Kairo stood before his new creation. His heart pounded with triumph and unease, with fear and ambition.
His second unit–a kabolt, yet nothing like the furred scavengers Kairo once fought within the game in his previous life. Scales gleamed across its hunched body, silver veins glowing faintly beneath emerald plates. Horns curled from its head, and its eyes burned with a primal draconic spark. It sniffed the air, then dropped to one knee before the Black Spire, its tail lashing the ground.
Kairo's breath caught. This was no mere beast.
This was the birth of a new legion.
The kabolt's eyes glimmered faintly, reflecting him like a mirror.
Shiri confused, eyes narrowed, "Why...does it look like that beast? What is this?"
"This," Kairo murmured, voice trembling with awe, "is the true end of my beginning… and the dawn of conquest."
The night wind howled past the walls, carrying whispers of storms to come.
to be continued...