Selene Marronate stood atop the Stone wall, her blindfolded gaze fixed on the horizon where the protective shield had just flickered out of existence. She turned her face toward the encroaching wilds and whispered, ''The culling has begun. If he survives the coming tide, he might be the tool I need to carve my revenge into the heart of my home world.''
Z yawned from his perch on her shoulder, stretching his small limbs. ''Perhaps. But wouldn't it be more efficient to simply kill him and feast on his soul? I can feel it... devouring him might be the key to my next evolution.''
Selene hummed as the distant roar of the wilderness grew into a chaotic symphony. ''Possibly. But consider the evolutionary heights we could reach under his banner. His talent is beyond anything I have ever witnessed. And besides,'' her voice sank into a conspiratorial whisper, ''you still haven't managed to peel back the curtain on his origins, have you?''
Z flicked his twin tails in irritation. ''Hmph. There is a superior artifact at work, masking his true nature. But dead men tell no secrets, Master. We can always find the truth once he is gone.'' His eyes flashed with a predatory light as his senses tingled. 'Oh, this is getting very interesting,' the creature thought.
In the heart of the stronghold, Leo sat upon his throne, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting information. He was still reeling from the sheer power of the Scarlet Crown barracks—and the realization that it could be further evolved with lost fragments—when Malphas had dropped a bombshell regarding his forgotten past.
The Great Hall was packed with Leo's inner circle. Malphas had retreated into his stoic, guarded shell, his expression unreadable. Verdict stood poised at the foot of the throne, with Frost, Gleam, and Edict arrayed like silent statues behind her. Luna kept a steady presence by Leo's side, while Ren loomed behind her. At the back of the room, Grakul and the Captain stood tall, though River looked like he was vibrating with nervous energy.
Then, the cold, mechanical voice of the system filled the room.
[WORLD SYSTEM NOTICE]
The Trial Period has officially concluded.
The moment of truth has arrived. You will either endure the coming storm to become Prime Lords or fall and be consumed by the Origin.
GLOBAL EVENT TRIGGERED: THE NATIVE RECKONING
Duration: 72 Hours
The indigenous inhabitants of this world have identified your presence. Your status has been updated to: INVADERS.
EVENT SPECIFICATIONS:
Indigenous races will execute coordinated strikes against all Lord Territories.
Territory coordinates have been partially exposed to the native population.
Enemy Aggression Levels: Maximum.
Elite Native Commanders: Deployed.
SUCCESS CRITERIA: Retain control of your Territory Core for the full 72-hour duration.
PENALTIES FOR FAILURE:
Permanent forfeiture of Lord Status.
Immediate Territory Collapse.
NEW CLASSIFICATION: FALLEN LORDS:
Lords who lose their territory core will no longer be out of the game. Instead, they will enter a state of degradation.
FALLEN LORD UNIQUE ABILITY: USURPATION
Executing another Lord allows you to steal their status and claim their Territory Core as your own.
EVENT RANKINGS:
Regional rankings will track the merits of every racial lord during this 72-hour siege. Rankings will refresh every 24 hours. The top 10 lords will receive legendary rewards capable of shifting the cosmic standing of their entire home world.
REGIONAL CONTEXT:
The Umbra Expanse covers 4,000,000 square kilometers. Countless native civilizations have been waiting in the shadows for the shield to drop. Be warned: the more advanced your Territory Core, the more ferocious the forces sent to destroy it.
The bells of war have rung. Step forth and claim your place in the annals of the Origin.
***
''This is madness! Every previous generation of lords only had to endure for twenty-four hours, but we are being pushed for seventy-two?'' Luna's voice rose to a panicked pitch. ''And the rankings? We're being measured against races born with innate bloodlines and ancestral abilities!''
Leo's fingers drummed a rhythmic, hollow sound against the throne's armrest. To say he was surprised would be a lie. The Origin didn't give away blessings, double harvests, and legacy trials for free. It was the classic strategy of fattening the livestock before the slaughter. The sudden generosity had been a warning of the hell to come.
''Enough. Let's stop lamenting what we cannot change and focus on what we can,'' Leo said, his voice cutting through the tension. ''Since we don't know which flank will be hit first—or if we'll be swarmed from all sides—Malphas, you are now the High Commander of all ground forces. Captain will report directly to you.''
Malphas offered a crisp salute, though his gaze lingered on Leo with a flicker of protective concern. On the opposite side, Verdict offered a serene, knowing smile to put the knight's mind at ease.
''Frost and Grakul, hold the west gate. Luna, Ren, and Edict, you have the east.'' Leo knew Luna was eccentric, but he also knew a sharp mind hid behind that mask of chaos, even if her true character remained an enigma to him.
Frost offered a deep bow, while Luna ignored the room entirely, her fingers flying as she hurled insults at the Origin in the regional chat.
''As for the south...'' Leo paused. He needed a self-sufficient force there. He intended to keep Verdict by his side as a final line of defense against the inevitable assassination attempts on his life. Before he could name a guard, the hall doors creaked open. Selene entered, her deep violet hair trailing behind her like a royal cape, the legendary devil perched upon her shoulder.
''I defend it,'' she declared. She didn't wait for a response before turning on her heel and vanishing back into the corridor.
Leo's lips curled into a faint smile. He hadn't secured her absolute loyalty yet—the meter was still stuck at neutral for lack of time—but he knew her well enough to trust her blade. If Selene Marronate wanted him dead, she wouldn't hide in the shadows; she would walk through the front door and look him in the eye.
''Gleam, your station is the Territory Core. Do not let anything touch it,'' Leo ordered.
'She should be more than enough for a final safeguard,' he mused. As he stood to leave, his Throne Perception caught a strange vibration at the edge of the hall. He activated his Crimson Perception, and the world dissolved into a spectrum of glowing red life signatures. Just outside the main hall, the members of the Grand Collective were frantically drilling into the stone wall.
''Is this really the best way?'' one whispered. ''The doors were wide open.''
The Driller hissed through his teeth, his ears twitching. ''Shut up! Why do I feel like the eyes of a god are burning a hole in my neck?''
Leo's eyebrows shot up. 'He sensed my gaze? Intriguing.'
He summoned his blood familiar, the Ichor Sentinel, letting it materialize in his palm before it dissolved into a mist. It reformed silently directly behind the lead driller. As the other members of the collective spotted the crimson specter, they paled and slunk away into the shadows without a word of warning to their comrade. The familiar shifted its shape, mimicking Gleam's face with a wide, unsettling grin.
The steward finally felt the shift in the air and turned. His golden eyes nearly popped out of his skull. ''AHHH! The crazy maid turned into a blood wraith!'' He shrieked, falling backward and scrambling away in terror.
Leo chuckled softly at the chaos. He still wasn't sure what to do with the Collective, but for now, the real war beckoned. He climbed the ramparts, looking out over his 40 undead archers and 10 Boar-kin slingers. It was a shame he lacked ballistas or heavy artillery, but in this stage of the game, his stone walls were already a luxury most Lords couldn't dream of.
In the courtyard below, Malphas stood at the head of a terrifying phalanx: sixty Death Knights in flawless formation, flanked by twenty ogres and ten veteran axemen. The Goblin Captain stood at his side, looking every bit the vice commander.
'Once this is over, I need to break that 300-population cap,' Leo thought as he reached the top of the wall.
Verdict was waiting for him, her presence a calm anchor amidst the archers and slingers. ''Master,'' she murmured, bowing low.
The silence was shattered by a series of heavy, rhythmic thuds that made the stone beneath Leo's boots tremble.
''I suppose we're the first to be greeted,'' Leo said, a cold, predatory smile spreading across his face. On the horizon, a massive horde of goblins mounted on dire wolves was charging, a wave of fur and iron destined for his gates.