The ache remained. A burning in his chest, as though something had been seared into his very existence.
Aric took a deep breath, his thoughts still reeling from what he had just done.
[Sovereign's Brand is now yours to wield.]
The voice of the System was serene, almost to the point of anticipation.
[Test it.]
He tightened his fists.
A decision faced him.
Would he strike now, branding someone right away?
Or would he wait, not knowing what it would do to him?
No. Weakness was doubt.
He did not need doubt.
A knock on the door of his room.
Aric turned, already knowing who it was.
Lord Elric Varholt.
A little nobleman, but with ties. Loyal to the Duke, but easily influenced.
The ideal test subject.
"Enter," Aric barked.
The door creaked open, and Varholt entered, looking uncertain.
"You summoned me, my lord?"
Aric smiled. "Yes. I have something that I require of you."
Not quite.
Aric waved a hand at Varholt to sit.
The noble hesitated before taking a seat.
He had no notion what was about to happen.
"Do you swear loyalty to the Duke?" Aric snapped.
Varholt blinked in plain shock. "Of course, my lord."
Aric leaned forward, his golden eyes glinting.
"Instead, swear loyalty to me."
Varholt frowned. "My lord, I—"
Aric set his hand on the noble's shoulder.
Sovereign's Brand.
The instant he released it, a surge of power coursed through him—like a shackle on Varholt's mind.
The noble's eyes went wide with shock—his body rigid as if something intangible had encircled his soul.
His breath left him in a gasp, his chest hardly rising.
"W-What…?"
Aric's hold on him grew tighter.
"Swear fealty to me."
Varholt's body shook. His will was shattered.
"I… I swear."
His voice was empty. Hollow.
The mark was bestowed.
Aric pulled back his hand, eyeing the noble warily.
Varholt remained stock-still, his expression impassive.
"Stand," Aric instructed.
The noble stood without reservation.
"Sit."
He sat.
"Swear to betray the Duke."
Varholt's lips shook… but he said it.
"I swear to betray the Duke."
No hesitation. No struggle.
It worked.
Aric breathed slowly, his heart pounding.
This was real power.
Not influence. Not manipulation.
Absolute control.
But then… he sensed something.
A creeping sensation.
Like something had been removed from him.
Something… lost.
He pushed the thought aside. There was no going back now.
There stood Varholt, before him, waiting to take orders.
A nobleman who had sworn his loyalty to the Duke, once, now nothing but a pawn.
A wicked grin spread across Aric's face.
"You will continue to serve the Duke… but first answer to me."
"You will be my eyes and ears."
Varholt nodded. "As you wish, my lord."
Aric's head spun.
This was just the start.
Others were to come.
One at a time, he would take them all.
Until this whole court was his.
The price?
He would take care of that later.