The storm of political chaos swept through the world after Lucian's battle at Eternal Frostspire. The Hunter Association, under Aldric Voss, wove a masterful deception, painting Lucian as the culprit behind the deaths of National Hunters. His name resounded across nations—Lucian Blackthorne, the Demon of Treason.
But in the shadows, Lucian moved forward with his plan. His revenge was far from over.
The Grand Tactician's Last Gambit
In the heart of Veridion Spire, a towering fortress nestled within the Iron Dominion, Sebastian Stratagem, the Grand Tactician, sat in his war chamber. Maps sprawled before him, filled with intricate calculations, alliances, and fail-safes—yet his fingers trembled.
He had foreseen thousands of possibilities, but none where he emerged victorious against Lucian.
A ripple of darkness distorted the air.
Lucian stepped through a tear in space, clad in a blackened regal coat, his aura swallowing the very light around him. He didn't rush. He walked, every step an executioner's toll. Behind him stood Elias Vitalis, the Sacred Restorer, draped in celestial white robes, his tranquil expression betraying no emotion. He had once been neutral, a healer bound by duty, but the Hunter Association's corruption forced him to choose. In the end, he chose Lucian—the only one ruthless enough to cleanse the filth from this world.
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at Elias. "So even the divine bows to the abyss?"
Elias sighed. "A healer does not take sides, but even I see the rot within the Association. You should have as well."
Sebastian let out a dry chuckle. "I was never blind. But in a world of gods and demons, men like me must carve their victories with intellect. I played my part."
Lucian's golden-red eyes bore into him. "And yet, you lost."
Without another word, Sebastian activated a grand formation—thousands of arcane glyphs surged to life, forming an unbreakable barrier. The entire fortress trembled as colossal spears of mana aimed toward Lucian and Elias.
Lucian didn't move.
Elias raised his hand, and the spears—frozen in time—crumbled to dust.
Sebastian staggered back, disbelief flashing across his face. "Impossible."
Lucian finally drew his sword. "Your calculations failed, tactician."
The room darkened. The Sovereign's Finale—the final form of the Blackthorne Tenfold—fell.
A single stroke.
The fortress split apart. Walls crumbled. Magic ruptured. Sebastian's breath hitched as he looked down—his chest bisected, his lifeblood spilling onto his precious war maps.
He laughed, blood bubbling from his lips. "Clever… too clever."
Lucian's voice was cold. "Your schemes shattered my family. This is your end."
Sebastian collapsed, his own grand strategy reduced to dust.
Turning the Tides
With Sebastian's death, Lucian seized the Iron Dominion's resources. He didn't stop there. Over the next few weeks, several top guilds began aligning with him:
Elysian Vanguard, led by Elias Vitalis.
Obsidian Phalanx, a mercenary guild that once fought against Blackthorne, now swearing loyalty.
Nightfall Covenant, a shadow guild that despised the Hunter Association's corruption.
The world, which once saw Lucian as a pariah, now whispered a different tale. He wasn't a demon. He was the harbinger of justice.
The Hunter Association's Collapse
Aldric Voss sat in the grand hall of the Hunter Association, the weight of the world pressing against his shoulders. Reports of Lucian's growing influence flooded in. Sebastian was dead. Powerful guilds had defected.
The door creaked open.
Lucian entered, alone.
Aldric's breath hitched. For the first time, he felt fear.
Lucian stepped toward him, hands in his pockets, his voice disturbingly calm. "So, Aldric, you tried to paint me as a demon. Tell me… what happens when that demon stands before you?"
Aldric swallowed hard, trying to muster authority. "You… you can't just walk in here and expect to—"
Lucian snapped his fingers. The air trembled. Shadows slithered from every corner, consuming the room's defenses.
Aldric's last resistance shattered.
He fell to his knees. "I—"
Lucian crouched, meeting his eyes. "You have two choices, Aldric. Serve me… or be buried alongside the old order."
Aldric gritted his teeth. He was a survivor. And survivors knew when to kneel.
"…I am yours, Lord Blackthorne."
Lucian smirked. "Good dog."
The Hunter Association, once an untouchable power, was now Blackthorne's to command.
The Beginning of Dominion
From a nameless fugitive to a ruler in the shadows, Lucian had torn through the chains that bound him. The world no longer hunted him. Now, it waited, trembling, to see what he would do next.
And the dawn of the Blackthorne Era had just begun.