The tenth dawn blazed over Kael El's domain, the violet-gold sky shimmering with a restless energy that matched the hum of his settlement. The manor stood proud, its walls scarred but unyielding, while fifty thousand subjects bustled—warriors sharpening spears, mages weaving barriers, and crafters stacking resources. Kael leaned against the manor's gate, the Stormforged Blade in hand, its lightning edge glinting as he twirled it idly. His flirty smirk held firm, a cool dominance radiating from his relaxed stance.
Day 10. Time to stop waiting. His dark eyes gleamed with unwavering confidence, a quiet pride burning beneath his chill exterior. Fifty thousand souls, a fortress, and a taste of blood—most lords would've hunkered down. Kael? He thrived, his resilience a steady flame. Defense is cute, but I'm here to conquer.
A sharp ding sounded, the system panel flaring up.
"Day 10: Post-Peace Period. Territory Level: 2. Population: 50,008 Subjects. Food Stock: 4 Days Remaining. Resource Yield: +10% (Lv. 2 Bonus)."
Kael's smirk widened, a playful edge cutting through the morning air. "Four days, huh? Guess we're hunting more than game now." His calm under pressure was unshakable—war was his grind, and he'd mastered it. The battlefield loot was sorted, his crew was armed, and Territory Lv. 3 loomed—three nearby territories to claim. Time to expand.
Gavrin approached, his ledger brimming with numbers, his grizzled beard streaked with soot. "Lord Kael, stockpile's set—five hundred spears, four hundred shields, plus the battlefield haul. Copper's smelting now." His Resource Hoarder at 5,000% made every scrap count.
Kael clapped his shoulder, grinning flirty yet firm. "Gavrin, you're my goldmine. Prep a supply caravan—two hundred spears, a hundred shields. We're moving out." Gavrin nodded, scribbling fast, and Kael turned to the Summoning Altar. Eight summons left. Let's stack the odds.
He pressed a hand to the Mana Crystal, voice smooth and teasing. "Alright, gorgeous, give me something sharp."
The altar flared, and a ninth figure emerged—a tall woman with raven hair and a curved blade at her hip. She knelt, voice low and steady. "Lord Kael, I am Nyra. Perk: Blade Dancer – +50% melee agility, precision strikes."
Kael's grin turned protective yet playful. "Nyra, huh? A dancer's perfect for this waltz. Gear up—march with me." She rose with a nod, her blade glinting, and he felt that bond snap tight—loyalty flowing both ways. Another edge.
The system blared, its tone sharp.
"SSS Talent Triggered: 100% Drop Rate. Additional Summon: 1 Subject. EX Talent Triggered: 10,000x Multiplier Applied. Quantity Enhanced: 10,000 Subjects."
The plot trembled as 10,000 more figures materialized—warriors, scouts, builders—swelling his ranks to 60,000. A man with "Shield Bearer" hefted a tower shield, a woman with "Pathfinder" scanned the horizon, and dozens more roared their allegiance. Kael laughed, a deep, carefree sound. Sixty thousand? This is my army now.
"Warriors, to the gates!" he barked, his cool dominance cutting through the din. "Scouts, with Veyna. Builders, back Mara. Move!"
He gathered his core crew—Lira, Sylvi, Veyna, Mara, Elys, Zorin, Gavrin, and Nyra—by the manor. "We've got three territories nearby—weaklings who sent those raiders. We're taking 'em. Lira, forge on the march. Sylvi, keep us standing. Veyna, scout ahead. Mara, fortify what we take. Elys, storm 'em. Zorin, barriers. Gavrin, loot it all. Nyra, cut 'em down."
They nodded, loyalty blazing in their eyes. Kael twirled the Stormforged Blade, his tone flirty yet resolute. "Let's dance."
By midday, 10,000 warriors—spears, shields, and bows—marched out, Kael at the fore. Veyna's scouts pinpointed the nearest target—a ramshackle camp five miles west, a hundred souls under a petty lord. Kael smirked, leading the charge.
The camp came into view—huts, a wooden palisade, and a panicked rabble. Kael raised his blade, lightning crackling. "Elys, open it up."
Her staff flared, and a thunderbolt smashed the palisade, splintering it into ash. Nyra darted in, her Blade Dancer Perk a blur, slicing through five guards in a heartbeat. Kael followed, spear and blade flashing—two thrusts, two kills, blood spraying as he grinned. Too easy.
"Ding! Enemy Defeated. XP: +50. SSS Talent: 100% Drop Rate. Loot: Wooden Spear. EX Talent: 10,000x Multiplier Applied. Quality Enhanced: Wooden Spear upgraded to Iron Lance."
A sleek lance landed in his hand, its edge gleaming. Kael laughed, slashing through another foe. Loot's piling up.
The camp fell in minutes—fifty dead, fifty surrendered. Kael stood amidst the wreckage, his posture relaxed yet commanding. "Mara, fortify it. Gavrin, strip it clean."
A final ding rang out.
"Territory Conquered: 1/3 for Lv. 3. XP Gained: 5,000. Loot: +50 Spears, +20 Bows, +1 Mana Shard."
Kael smirked, the violet sky blazing overhead. One down. Two to go.
POV Shift: Nyra
She sheathed her blade, blood dripping from its edge, her Blade Dancer Perk still humming. Her lord stood there, smirking like war was a game he'd already won. Sixty thousand, and he leads the charge? She'd fought for petty captains before, but Kael's cool confidence, that protective steel, hooked her. I'll cut a path for him. He's worth it.