Darkness consumed everything. Not the simple absence of light, but something deeper—a living void that wrapped around Elion's consciousness like a shroud. He felt weightless, suspended in an infinite black sea where up and down lost all meaning.
Then came the cold. It seeped into his bones, his blood, his very soul. But it wasn't unpleasant—it was familiar, like slipping into water that was exactly body temperature. The cold was part of him, and he was part of it.
Words echoed in the void, though Elion couldn't tell if they came from outside or from within his own mind:
"From death, I grant you service. From darkness, I grant you form. Arise, and serve the Shadowborn Monarch."
The darkness coalesced, gathering itself like smoke condensing into solid matter. A shape formed before him—massive, seven feet tall, wrapped in shadows that writhed like living things. Two eyes opened in the darkness, burning with crimson light.
The orc chieftain stood before him, but transformed. His flesh was no longer green but pitch black, as if carved from obsidian. The brutal, savage intelligence that had filled his gaze in life was replaced by something colder, more focused. He knelt, his massive frame bowing before Elion.
"Master," the shadow spoke, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to come from everywhere at once. "I am yours to command."
╔════════════════════════════════╗ ║ EXTRACTION SUCCESSFUL ║ ╚════════════════════════════════╝ Shadow Soldier Gained: Orc Shadow Warrior Rank: Infantry (Elite) Status: Bound to Shadowborn Monarch Current Mana Cost: 20/100 Shadow Army Count: 1 Maximum Capacity: 50 Abilities Retained: - Enhanced Strength - Weapon Mastery (Axes) - Battle Rage (Passive) Note: Shadow soldiers are immortal. If destroyed in battle, they will regenerate within your shadow dimension after a cooldown period, consuming mana equivalent to their strength.
Elion's eyes snapped open. He was still lying in the mud of the courtyard, his ribs screaming with pain, the sounds of battle raging around him. But now something stood between him and the chaos—a massive shadow that radiated menace like heat from a forge.
The shadow orc turned, his crimson eyes sweeping across the remaining raiders. When he spoke, his voice carried across the entire courtyard, cutting through the sounds of combat:
"Run."
The word hit the raiders like a physical blow. Those closest to the shadow stumbled backward, their weapons falling from nerveless fingers. Others simply stood frozen, staring at the impossible apparition that had appeared from nowhere.
The shadow orc didn't wait for them to recover. He moved with impossible speed for something so large, his massive fists becoming weapons as deadly as any blade. The first raider he reached died before he could scream, his skull crushed like an eggshell. The second tried to run and made it three steps before shadow-wrapped hands caught him and tore him apart.
It was a massacre. The raiders broke and ran, abandoning their attack, abandoning their wounded, interested only in escape. The shadow orc pursued with methodical efficiency, and Elion realized with a mixture of awe and horror that the creature was enjoying this.
No—not enjoying. That implied emotion. The shadow was simply fulfilling its purpose with the satisfaction of a tool being properly used.
"By the gods..." Garrick's voice was barely a whisper. The old guard stood nearby, his sword hanging loose in his grip, staring at the shadow with wide eyes. "What is that thing?"
"Mine," Elion said, surprised by how steady his voice sounded despite the pain. "It's mine."
Kael appeared, his armor spattered with blood and his expression carefully neutral. "Well, lordling, I've seen a lot of strange things in my years, but that..." He gestured at the shadow orc, who was currently hurling a raider over the manor wall. "That's a new one."
Lyssa joined them, leaning heavily on her staff. Her face was pale with exhaustion, but her eyes were sharp as she studied the shadow. "Necromancy?"
"No," Elion said, though he wasn't entirely sure how he knew. "Not exactly. It's... complicated."
"Complicated," Kael repeated flatly. "Right. Well, your 'complicated' just saved all our lives, so I'm not going to complain too loudly."
The sounds of battle faded as the last of the raiders fled into the night. The shadow orc returned to Elion's side, kneeling once more in the mud. Up close, Elion could see that the creature wasn't entirely solid—shadows curled off its body like smoke, and when he looked directly at it, his eyes seemed to slide away, unable to quite focus on the details.
"Your commands, master?"
Elion opened his mouth, then closed it again. What did you say to an undead warrior made of shadow and bound to your service? The system text helpfully provided an answer:
╔════════════════════════════════╗ ║ COMMAND OPTIONS ║ ╚════════════════════════════════╝ Your shadow soldiers will follow verbal commands or respond to mental directives. They possess the intelligence and skills they had in life, but their loyalty is absolute and unbreakable. Common commands: - Guard/Patrol - Attack/Defend - Return to shadow (dismissal) - Autonomous action (shadow will act independently within defined parameters)
"Guard the manor," Elion said, his voice hoarse. "Kill anyone who tries to attack us, but..." He hesitated. "But no innocents. Understand?"
The shadow orc inclined his head. "As you command."
The creature rose and moved to take up a position near the broken gates, standing utterly still. If Elion hadn't known better, he might have mistaken it for a statue carved from midnight stone.
"We need to see to the wounded," Mira's voice cut through his thoughts. The steward appeared from inside the manor, her silver fur matted with blood—though whether it was hers or someone else's, Elion couldn't tell. "And count our losses."
The losses. Right. For a moment, caught up in the wonder and horror of what he'd done, Elion had almost forgotten that people had died. His people.
"How many?" he asked quietly.
Mira's expression was grave. "Four dead. Marcus, Sara, Old Willem, and Joanna. Another six wounded, three seriously. Thomas took a sword to the shoulder but should recover."
Four dead. Four people under his protection who would never see another dawn. Elion felt the weight of their deaths settle onto his shoulders alongside the weight of his father's legacy.
"What about the raiders?"
"At least twenty bodies in the courtyard," Garrick reported, limping over to join them. The old guard had a nasty cut across his forehead that he was trying unsuccessfully to staunch with a torn piece of cloth. "Another dozen or so wounded enough to slow them down. They'll bleed out before they reach the forest, most like."
Thirty or more dead, and for what? To raid a failing barony that had nothing worth stealing? The waste of it all made Elion sick.
"Get the wounded inside," he ordered. "Anyone who can walk helps carry those who can't. Lyssa, can you—"
"I'm a druid, not a healer," the elf interrupted, though not unkindly. "But I know some herbcraft that might help. I'll do what I can."
"Thank you. Kael—"
"Already on it," the mercenary said, helping Garrick toward the manor. "Come on, old man. Let's get that head wound seen to before you bleed out and deprive me of fascinating conversation."
Garrick snorted but allowed himself to be led away.
Alone in the courtyard with Mira, Elion finally let himself sag, the adrenaline draining away and leaving only pain and exhaustion. His ribs felt like they were made of broken glass, and every breath was agony.
"You're hurt," Mira said, her professional concern taking over. She moved to support him, and Elion was grateful for the steadiness of her presence.
"I've been better," he admitted.
"That was... impressive. Foolish, charging an orc chieftain like that, but impressive." She glanced at the shadow warrior standing guard. "And what you did after—creating that thing—I've never seen magic like that before."
"Neither have I," Elion said honestly. "I'm not entirely sure what's happening to me, Mira. But right now, I'm just grateful we're alive."
She studied him for a long moment, her amber eyes seeing more than he wanted to reveal. "Whatever's happening, my lord, you can trust me. You know that, don't you?"
He did. Mira had served his family faithfully for two decades. If he could trust anyone with the truth about the system, it was her. But not yet—not until he understood it better himself.
"I know," he said instead. "Come on. We have wounded to tend and bodies to bury. And tomorrow..." He looked at the broken gates, the bloodstained courtyard, the manor that had barely survived its first test. "Tomorrow we start rebuilding."
If they lived that long.
The system text appeared again, and this time Elion almost smiled at it:
╔════════════════════════════════╗ ║ QUEST COMPLETE ║ ╚════════════════════════════════╝ Quest: Survive the Night Status: Success Rewards: - Shadow Extraction Skill: Unlocked - Experience Gained: 1000 XP - Level Up! (1 → 2) - New Quest Available Current Stats: Level: 2 Mana: 80/120 (Increased from level up) Shadow Army: 1/50 Extraction Success Rate: Base 70%
One battle survived. One shadow soldier gained. And approximately a thousand more problems waiting for him come morning.
Welcome to being Baron of Silverwood.