The sprawling estate Noah now called home stood as a symbol of the ambition he carried within him. From its high balconies, he could see the pulse of Draegoth—an untamed city thriving on strength and cunning. But Noah knew that brute power alone was not enough to cement his place here. To rise above the formidable heirs and clans that ruled this metropolis, he needed wealth, influence, and subtle control over its undercurrents.
Sitting in his study, surrounded by shelves of ancient tomes and rare artifacts, Noah pondered his next move. He leaned back in his chair, the flickering light of the enchanted lamps casting shadows over his sharp features.
"My lord," Kalis interrupted, entering the room with a respectful bow.
Noah looked up, his crimson eyes gleaming. "What news?"
"The underground slave market has been mapped, as you ordered. However, it remains under the control of the Xeylar Clan—a formidable family of Level 35 enforcers. They're too powerful to contest outright."
Noah waved his hand dismissively. "For now, the slave market isn't our priority. Draegoth offers countless avenues to build our foundation. If we cannot seize power directly, we'll create our own foothold."
---
As Kalis stepped aside, Noah retrieved a small vial from his desk. The liquid within shimmered with a faint, otherworldly glow. This was no ordinary concoction, but the result of his **Potion Making Mastery** skill, honed to perfection over countless hours of practice. Noah's alchemy was unmatched, a skill inherited and enhanced by his vampiric bloodline.
"Alchemy," Noah murmured, "is an art that even demons value. Potions for strength, vitality, healing, and beyond—they're a universal currency. And in a city like Draegoth, where conflict is constant, such wares are worth their weight in gold."
Kalis nodded. "But establishing a market presence here won't be easy. The city's alchemical trade is controlled by entrenched businesses. Securing influence in that sector will require more than just quality products."
A faint smile curled on Noah's lips. "Quality is just the beginning. I don't plan to compete; I plan to dominate. And we'll start by targeting a weak link in the chain."
---
After days of careful observation and research, Kalis reported the ideal target: **Duskwort Remedies**, a small, struggling alchemical shop on the outskirts of Draegoth's bustling commercial district. Owned by an aging demon named Throvar, the business teetered on the edge of bankruptcy, plagued by poor-quality products and aggressive competition.
"It's perfect," Noah said after Kalis presented the report. "A failing enterprise with no protection. We'll take it over and turn it into the foundation of our operations."
"Shall I make an offer, my lord?" Kalis asked.
"No," Noah replied, his tone cold and decisive. "There's no need for pleasantries. Use whatever means necessary—intimidation, coercion, or violence. Ensure the business is ours by the end of the day."
Kalis nodded, a sharp gleam in his eyes. "It will be done."
---
Later that evening, Kalis entered Duskwort Remedies under the guise of a customer. The shop was as unimpressive as the reports had indicated—dusty shelves lined with poorly labeled bottles, their contents murky and unappealing. Throvar, a hunched demon with cracked horns and tired eyes, shuffled behind the counter.
"Welcome," Throvar croaked. "What can I get for you?"
Kalis didn't respond. Instead, he closed the door behind him and flipped the sign to *Closed*.
Throvar frowned. "What's this about?"
Kalis stepped forward, his movements predatory. "You've failed to adapt, old man. Your business is dying, and you know it. I'm here to offer you a way out."
Throvar's eyes narrowed. "I'm not selling."
Kalis's grin was cold, devoid of any warmth. "I wasn't asking."
Before Throvar could react, Kalis struck, his vampiric speed and strength overwhelming the older demon. He slammed the shopkeeper against the counter, his claws digging into Throvar's shoulder.
"Here's how this works," Kalis hissed. "You sign over the business, and I let you live. Refuse, and I'll bury what's left of you beneath this shop. Either way, Duskwort Remedies belongs to us now."
Throvar struggled, his fear palpable. "You'll regret this. I may be weak, but I have connections—"
Kalis cut him off with a sharp laugh. "Connections? If they cared about you, you wouldn't be in this position. Sign the papers, old man, or I'll end your misery right here."
Defeated and trembling, Throvar complied. Within minutes, Duskwort Remedies was officially under Noah's control.
---
When Kalis returned to the estate with the signed documents, Noah was already preparing the first batch of potions. He inspected the papers briefly before setting them aside.
"Well done, Kalis," Noah said. "The first step is complete. Now we begin the real work."
Over the next several days, Noah transformed the dilapidated shop into a thriving alchemical haven. Using his Potion Making Mastery, he created potions of unparalleled quality, their effects far surpassing anything the city had seen. Strength enhancers, rapid healing drafts, and stamina restoratives became the shop's specialties, attracting customers from across Draegoth.
Noah also employed subtle marketing tactics, spreading rumors of Duskwort Remedies' miraculous products through well-placed whispers in the city's taverns and marketplaces. Within weeks, the shop became a hotspot for adventurers, warriors, and even nobles seeking an edge in their pursuits.
---
As the shop's profits soared, Noah funneled the wealth into expanding his influence. He began forging discreet alliances with minor factions and independent mercenaries, offering them exclusive access to his potions in exchange for loyalty.
Kalis, meanwhile, continued to act as Noah's enforcer, ensuring that no rivals dared to challenge their growing enterprise. Those who tried were swiftly dealt with, their bodies left as a warning to others.
---
Standing in the newly renovated Duskwort Remedies, Noah observed the bustling shop floor with satisfaction. What had once been a dying business was now a cornerstone of his plans, a source of wealth and influence in a city that respected nothing less.
"This is only the beginning," Noah said, his voice calm yet resolute. "We'll turn Draegoth into our stronghold, one piece at a time. And when the time comes, the world will remember that strength isn't just about power—it's about control."
Kalis bowed his head. "What are your orders, my lord?"
"For now, we consolidate," Noah replied. "But keep your ears open. I want to know everything about the clans that rule this city. Strength alone won't guarantee our survival here, Kalis. Knowledge is power, and I intend to wield it."
As Kalis departed to carry out his orders, Noah allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction. Draegoth was a city built on strength and ambition, and Noah was determined to master its every facet.