A tremor so profound it rattled the ancient fortress coursed through it with his initial steps upon the obsidian floor. The mass of his armored body pressing down upon the earth compressed him, but he felt nothing—no weariness, no tension, only sheer, untempered might searing through his body.
His red eyes burned as he raised a clawed hand, flexing his fingers. The black plates that armored his arms darkened, reflecting an eerie pallor, their power humming from some inner energy. He curled his hand, and the air quivered to respond. He was no longer a king—he was a force of nature.
Draegor took a breath, though he had no lungs to breathe. It was an old habit from another life, a reflex that followed him even into his new life. He turned his focus to the throne room, the large hall that had been a quiet mausoleum and now was occupied by a new and terrifying presence. Massive stone pillars lined the room in rows, stretching up to a domed ceiling inscribed with ancient sigils of control and power. At the other end of the chamber was his throne, constructed from the bones of vanquished titans, atop a dais of shattered obsidian.
He walked towards it with deliberate steps, his gait fluid. Nearing it, his awareness vibrated more in harmony with the presence of the throne. The magic imbued in its construction recognized its master.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION:
Primordial Tyrant System activated.
A flood of information poured through Draegor's mind, searing itself into his thoughts like an unending decree. The system was unlike anything he had been subjected to. It did not speak; it did not counsel—it simply was, as natural as the passage of time.
His vision blurred as knowledge unfolded before him:
Tyrant Status:
Name: Draegor, Abyssal Sovereign
Race: Primordial Undead Dragon-Lord
Title: The First Tyrant
Dominion: Eclipse Fortress (Base Level: 1)
Subjugation Influence: 0%
Army Size: 0
Abilities Unlocked:
Subjugation Command: Plant absolute devotion in subordinated animals.
Assimilation Effect: Gather and refine powers from subjugated beings.
Abyssal Authority: Passive aura that intimidates enemies in range.
Draegor smiled, his fangs glinting in the soft torchlight. He had never experienced power like this before. He had once been a warlord among many, battling to dominate by steel and blood. But now, he was something else—something better.
He held up his hand and focused on his Subjugation Command. The air hummed as spectral chains of control wrapped themselves around his fingers. He knew instinctively how it worked. Any creature below a certain level of strength would be in his power should he choose to subjugate them.
Draegor's gaze moved to the big doors of the throne room. With a will, they groaned open, revealing the dark corridors of the fortress beyond. Flickering shadows danced on the walls as the torches cast ghostly silhouettes, but he was not afraid.
He would test his power now.
The corridors stretched out into the distance, a labyrinth of forgotten corridors and tumbledown battlements. His fortress, Eclipse Fortress, had slumbered for centuries upon centuries. Now, it belonged to him, and now it was time to awaken its inhabitants.
A far-off growl echoed out from deeper inside the fortress. Draegor froze, his heightened senses finding the source instantly. There, in the dark, a lair of skeleton warbeasts patrolled, their dead eyes burning with blue fire. Remnants of some ancient army, long lost to the ages.
Draegor moved closer, and the beasts growled, their bone bodies creaking as they took their stand. In their eyes, he was just another opponent—one that they would break apart.
He raised a hand and sent his Subjugation Command flying. A wave of dark energy exploded from his palm, washing over the warbeasts like an unstoppable tide. Their movements slowed. Their resistance crumbled. Then, each in turn, they lowered their heads, the fire in their eyes extinguished as new purpose took hold.
Draegor felt the system react.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION:
Five skeletal warbeasts have been subjugated.
Subjugation Influence: 3%.
He exhaled slowly, the twisted satisfaction in him. This was pure power. He had not fought, had not spilled blood—he had simply commanded, and the world had obeyed.
Spinning hard, he gestured for the warbeasts to move behind him, and they did so without question. Their bony bodies thudded against the floor of stone as they dropped into line behind him, their shining eyes looking for his next order.
This was just the beginning.
Draegor returned to the throne room, his new slaves following him. He ascended the dais and sat upon his throne, the weight of his lordship settling upon him like a shroud of night.
He had his first soldiers. He had his castle. And he had a power no human could possibly resist.
A new era had dawned.
And he would make the world never forget him.