The descent into the Obsidian Iron Mine felt like walking into the belly of a sleeping dragon.
The air grew hotter with every step, thick with the taste of sulfur and iron. The tunnel was rough-hewn, carved by tools that looked ancient and clumsy compared to the efficiency of the System. The walls glowed with the pulse of the ore—veins of deep, midnight black that throbbed with a faint, internal light.
"My Lord," Thorne whispered, his voice echoing slightly in the confined space. "The smell of fear is old here. Layered. Like dust."
Ren kept his torch high. His Level 8 physique allowed him to see clearly in the low light. The darkness didn't bother him anymore; he was stronger than it.
"Stay close," Ren said. "If the humans are hostile, I want them alive. We need workers, not corpses."
They navigated a sharp turn in the tunnel, and the space suddenly opened up.
Ren stopped, holding up a hand.
Before them lay a massive cavern, a natural dome that had been expanded into a crude encampment. The ceiling was lost in shadows, but the floor was lit by a dozen flickering torches stuck into crevices.
And there were people.
Ren counted thirty of them. Men, women, even a few teenagers. They were huddled around a small campfire in the center, their clothes little more than rags made of animal skins and scrap metal. They were thin, their ribs showing under dirty skin.
They weren't attacking. They were praying.
The leader of the group—an old man with a long, white beard and a bent back—was kneeling before the fire, chanting a low, mournful prayer.
"...great stone king, grant us passage. The hunger comes. The shadows bite. Deliver us from the dark..."
Ren looked at the "Great Stone King." It was a statue. A crude idol made of... Obsidian Iron. It depicted a figure seated on a throne.
But it wasn't a god. It was a Lord.
The System interface highlighted the statue.
**[Ruined Statue of Lord Varian]**
**[Status: Deceased]**
**[Territory Status: Destroyed]**
"A dead Lord," Ren muttered.
"My Lord," Thorne hissed. "Look at their necks."
Ren focused. Every single human in the cavern wore a rusted iron collar.
"Slaves," Ren said, his grip tightening on his axe. "Mineral slaves."
One of the younger men near the edge of the light looked up. His eyes were wide, terrified. He saw Ren—towering, clad in black armor, radiating power, and Thorne beside him, a literal monster with glowing eyes.
"INTRUDER!" the man screamed, grabbing a rusted pickaxe.
The camp erupted into chaos. They scrambled for weapons—stones, shovels, rusted tools. But there was no coordination. It was the panic of cornered rats.
"QUIET!"
Ren's voice boomed, amplified by his **[Charisma: 14]** and the sheer power of his lungs.
The cavern went silent. The sound echoed, bouncing off the walls, dying slowly.
Ren walked forward, stepping into the light of their fire. He didn't raise his weapon. He just walked.
"Stay back!" the old leader shouted, though he was trembling so hard his knees knocked together. "The King protects us! The Black King will crush you!"
"The King is dead," Ren said, his voice cold but not cruel. "I can feel his rot on this statue."
He gestured to the idol. "Who was he?"
The leader hesitated. He looked at the statue, then back at Ren. He saw the confidence in Ren's eyes. He saw the clean steel of Ren's gear, compared to their rags.
"Lord... Lord Varian," the old man whispered. "Three generations ago, he summoned us. We were his miners. We dug... and dug. We built a fortress above. But the Deep Ones... they came. The Crabs. The worms."
"We held the line for days," the old man wept, tears cutting tracks through the dirt on his face. "But Lord Varian fell. The fortress collapsed. We fled here. The System... the System trapped us. We cannot leave the mine radius without the Lord's permission. And he is gone."
Ren cursed internally. The System's restriction. If a Lord dies, the territory is destroyed, but sometimes the subjects get stuck in a "Purgatory" state—locked to the land, unable to respawn, unable to leave. They were ghosts haunting a grave.
"My Lord," Thorne stepped forward. "They are weak. Useless for combat. But... they know the mine. They know where the deep veins are."
Ren looked at the starving group. He could just kill them and put them out of their misery. They were taking up resources.
But he was the **Universal Sovereign**. He didn't discard assets. He optimized them.
"I am the new Lord of this Sector," Ren announced. "I am not Varian. I am not dead."
He looked at the old man. "My name is Ren. And I offer you a choice. Starve here in the dark, praying to a stone corpse... or kneel to me, eat hot food, and work to reclaim this mountain."
The old man stared. He looked at the statue of Varian, then at the living, breathing power radiating from Ren.
"We... we cannot leave," the old man said softly. "The collars..."
"The collars are garbage," Ren said.
He walked up to the old man. He reached out and grabbed the iron ring around the old man's neck.
"My Lord, don't! It's cursed!"
Ren squeezed. *Strength: 47.*
*SQUEAK-CLINK.*
The rusted iron collar snapped in two like a dry twig. It fell to the floor with a dull thud.
The cavern was dead silent. The miners stared at the broken collar as if it were a miracle.
Ren opened his status and activated **[Effect 3: Absolute Dominion]**.
"Kneel," Ren commanded.
The wave of energy washed over the cavern. It wasn't a mental suggestion; it was a rewrite of reality.
The old man dropped to his knees. "Yes... my Lord."
One by one, the thirty miners dropped to the ground. Their eyes burned with the same devotion Thorne had. The fear vanished, replaced by purpose.
**[Mass Assimilation Successful]**
**[New Subjects Acquired: 30]**
**[Class Group: The Lost Miners]**
* **Miner (Basic):** 25 Units. *Skills: [Pickaxe Proficiency], [Ore Sense].*
* **Smith Apprentice (Basic):** 3 Units. *Skills: [Basic Smelting], [Maintenance].*
* **Herbalist (Basic):** 2 Units. *Skills: [Cave Foraging], [Poison Identification].*
Ren smiled. 30 free subjects. No summoning quota used. No resources spent.
He opened his inventory and materialized the *Shadow Mane Meat* and *Fresh Water* he had looted.
"Eat," Ren ordered. "Then we work."
He turned to the three Smith Apprentices. "You. Can you smelt this?"
He showed them a piece of Obsidian Iron he had chipped off the wall.
The apprentices—boys no older than seventeen—stared at the ore with tears in their eyes.
"Pure..." one whispered. "It's pure Obsidian. Lord Varian could never get the pure stuff. We always hit the slag."
"Can. You. Smelt. It?" Ren repeated.
"Yes, my Lord! We can! We know the heat. The fire must be hotter than normal coal!"
"Good," Ren said. "Jace is coming down with Merrin. You will work with them. We are turning this mine into a fortress."
Thorne nudged Ren. "My Lord. The hearts."
Ren looked at the Shadow Stalker. "What?"
"When we descended," Thorne said, looking deeper into the tunnel, past the campfire. "The humans... they are not the only things breathing down there. The humans... they were blocking the entrance."
Ren looked past the old man, into the dark tunnel that led deeper into the earth.
"Blocking it? From what?"
Thorne's eyes glowed brighter in the dark. "From the Deep Ones. The humans were a shield. A warning system. They dug the ore... and they fed the beasts below to keep them from swarming."
Ren turned to the old miner. "Is that true?"
The old man nodded, trembling. "Yes, my Lord. We throw the rock waste... and sometimes the dead... down the Deep Chute. It keeps them fed. It keeps them asleep."
"Sleeping," Ren muttered. "The boss isn't awake."
Yet.
He looked at his Quest Log. A new notification had appeared.
**[Quest: Purge the Nest]**
* *Objective:* Clear the Deep Chute of the Deep Ones.
* *Reward: [Rank B: Magma Core], Access to the Ancient Forge.*
Ren looked at the dark tunnel.
"Get the Smiths set up," Ren told Thorne. "Get the miners working the upper levels. I need that iron."
"And you, my Lord?"
Ren looked at the tunnel.
"I'm going to go say hello to the neighbors."
Ren had Level 8. He had 30 new workers. He had a Shadow Stalker.
He was ready to dig deeper.
***