The world had seen.
The Ashen Dominion unfolded like spreading darkness, consuming everything in its path.
And now, the Crimson Reavers began to stir.
But Regis… was already present.
Making the Dominion stronger
A storm tore across the recently conquered lands. Cold gusts swept across Red Hollow, stripped of its previous banners and covered in the sigil of the Ashen Sovereign.
From his chair in Duskrend Keep, Regis listened as his war council convened.
Kaelen, seated at the war table, pushed a marker across the map. "The Reavers are mobilizing their forces. Small warbands have been recalled to their fortress."
Elyndra stood with her arms crossed against the wall. "They're getting ready. For a direct siege."
Varian, ever calm, pushed his spectacles up. "Or they are waiting for reinforcements. Lord Vael is not a fool. He will not strike without mustering more power."
Regis examined the board.
The pieces dropped exactly as he expected.
A frontal siege? No, that was too simplistic. Too predictable.
Lord Vael was not an opportunist. He was a conqueror, just like Regis.
Which meant… he was scheming something greater.
Regis's fingers drummed on the arm of his throne. The silence developed, deliberate.
Then he spoke.
"We do not wait for their attack. We provoke them."
His words carried weight. A very subtle shift took place in the air.
Varian's nod was slow. "A provocation?"
Regis's garnet eyes flashed. "A lesson."
A Message Sent in Fire and Shadow
Two nights later, one of the Reavers' outlying garrisons was taken.
Not by combat.
Not by battle.
But by silence.
Elyndra's murderers crept unheard and unchallenged across the mist. The outpost sentries never broke from their guard—their throats slit before they could sound the alarm.
By dawn, smoke filled the air.
The Crimson Reavers awoke to burning strongholds and missing soldiers.
No bodies.
No prisoners.
Only one sigil burned into the ground—an eclipse with blood around it.
Regis's sigil.
A threat.
A warning.
The Reavers' Retaliation
The Reavers retaliated hours later.
Messengers arrived from the enemy nations, frantic and urgent.
Lord Vael's message was concise.
"You go too far."
Regis smiled at the parchment.
The words were not a warning. They were a prayer.
The Reavers were vexed.
And vexed enemies made mistakes.
Kaelen, seated across from him, raised an eyebrow. "Are we advancing?"
Regis gestured at the parchment.
"No. We let them seethe. We let them stew in their own uncertainty."
A predator did not chase prey too soon.
It permitted fear to gain a foothold. It permitted the mind to break before the body.
The Web Spreads
Regis's armies did not march.
Instead, they extended their influence quietly.
Merchants in neutral cities began to whisper about the Ashen Sovereign.
Bards wrote songs of a king who did not conquer through strength of arms, but inexorably.
And far away, disgruntled mercenaries and rebel splinter factions began to take notice. Wait. Consider.
Loyalties frayed.
And Regis observed it all with muted amusement.
A Secret Meeting
As the Dominion grew, so did its web of alliances.
Varian had set up a secret meeting with the leader of one of the factions—one that would tip the balance further.
The Vermillion Blades—a mercenary company once aligned with the Reavers—were on the verge of defecting.
Regis met their commander in the ruins of an old temple, far from prying eyes.
Commander Rhyse, a grizzled veteran in battered armor, eyed him suspiciously.
You are fearless, Ashen Sovereign."
Regis didn't move. "I am unstoppable."
A quiver of humor danced across Rhyse's lips. "Is that so? The Reavers have clung for generations."
Regis's expression stayed flat. "And you stand here now. Considering treason."
A fleeting pause fluttered across the man's face.
"The Reavers will fall. That much is certain. The only question—will you stand among the conquerors… or buried with them?"
The silence was suffocating.
Then Rhyse exhaled.
And dropped to his knees.
"The Vermillion Blades will ride under your standard."
Regis smiled.
One more piece had fallen into place.
The Storm Brews
The Crimson Reavers were in flight.
They knew it.
The world knew it.
And soon they would have to do something about it.
Regis stood atop Duskrend Keep, gazing out into the distance.
The ground was already prepared.
The war had already been waged.
And the next move… was his to make.