Under the cover of darkness, Abaddon, Jane, and Fatty ventured into the nearby village. They moved carefully, avoiding prying eyes, until they found the steward—an elderly man named Gregor. Though reluctant at first, Gregor eventually spoke, swayed by the promise of coin and Abaddon's piercing gaze.
"It was the Regent"
Gregor confessed, his voice trembling.
"He promised Marcius protection but ordered his fields burned to starve out the rebels hiding in the region. Marcius begged for mercy, but Lord Kaedryn only cared about results."
Abaddon's fists clenched at the revelation.
"And Marcius has borne that betrayal ever since."
Gregor nodded solemnly.
"The Regent's poisoning isn't a secret—it's emboldened Marcius. He sees weakness in your family and believes this is his chance to reclaim what was stolen."
Abaddon's eyes widened.
"Kaedryn is poisoned?"
Armed with the truth, Abaddon prepared to confront Marcius.
The Journey to Wyrm City...
Abaddon, Jane, and Fatty rode through the night toward Marcius's keep, located within Wyrm City, the second region under Drakon Keep. The imposing fortress loomed ahead, its shadow stretching over the land.
"Boss"
Fatty said nervously
"coming here this late… don't you think it's dangerous?"
Abaddon smirked over his shoulder.
"You're in the late Gold Stage, Fatty, and Jane is a peak Diamond Stage Ranker. Between the two of you, dealing with a single Common Ranker should be child's play."
"And…"
Abaddon extended his hand, summoning Apophis from the shadows. The creature emerged silently, blending with the night mist like a sentinel.
"Scout the area, Apophis... don't kill anyone just scout "
Abaddon commanded.
"Identify the rankers and report back."
With a bow, Apophis vanished into the darkness. After a few tense minutes, it reappeared, startling Fatty.
"Boss"
Fatty exclaimed, clutching his chest.
"That thing's too creepy! I nearly had a heart attack!"
Jane chuckled softly as Apophis knelt before Abaddon, one hand on its chest.
"Sire"
It reported.
"Six Rankers guard the keep. Two at early Bronze Stage, three at early Silver Stage, and one at early Platinum Stage. They are mercenaries patrolling the area."
Abaddon nodded, dismissing Apophis with a wave of his hand.
"If it were in my interest, I'd erase them. But we're here to prove our sincerity, not start a fight. That said…"
He glanced at the fortress gates.
"I doubt mercenaries hired to guard Marcius's keep will make this easy for a Drakon."
"I can help us move past them unnoticed"
Jane said confidently, she explained further.
"After acquiring the Shadow Element and ranking up, I unlocked a skill called Cloak of Shadows. It's an advanced stealth ability—far superior to the usual stealth techniques available to assassins, which can only be learned at the Ascension Stage. This one erases all traces of movement and boosts speed, even enabling short-range teleportation at night."
"Wow, that's incredible, Jane"
Fatty said, visibly impressed.
Using the skill, Jane enveloped the group in shadows, and they disappeared into the night. They moved effortlessly past the guards, avoiding all watchful eyes until they reached the main hall of the estate.
Trouble in the Light....
"Ab'bao"
Jane whispered.
"we can't go any further. The hall is fully lit with chandeliers—no shadows for the skill to work."
As the effect of Cloak of Shadows faded, Fatty stumbled to the ground, looking pale.
"Next time, warn me"
He groaned.
"I'm not built for this..."
"Look!"
Jane interrupted, pointing ahead.
Before they could react, armed men surrounded them.
"Did I make too much noise?"
Fatty said sarcastically.
"You idiot"
Jane hissed.
She exchanged a quick glance with Abaddon, who remained unnervingly calm despite their predicament.
"Don't worry"
Abaddon said quietly.
"We were bound to meet him sooner or later."
They stood before Lord Marcius himself, seated on a raised platform flanked by two mercenaries. One of them immediately drew attention—a hulking giant of a man, his frame nearly reaching halfway up the towering pillars.
Dressed in primal garments of bone and animal hide, his mere presence exuded raw power.
'A Barbarian from the Central Plains'
No'el's voice echoed in Abaddon's mind.
'That's a problem. Barbarians are naturally strong. Judging by his energy, he's at the Common Rank, but their strength and defense are twice that of humans at the same level. He's as powerful as an Imperium Rank Master. Be careful—and don't worsen your wound.'
'Yes, Ancestor...don't worry'
Abaddon replied inwardly.
His thoughts were interrupted by Marcius's growling voice.
"A Drakon… what brings the young prince here so late at night?"
His gaze shifted to the mercenary leader. "Bjorn! What are your men doing? Letting a noble rat slip into my home? Explain yourself—or you won't see a single coin from me!"
"Lord Marcius"
Abaddon interrupted, his voice steady and deliberate.
"You know why I'm here. I know why you defy my family. The betrayal you suffered was unjust. But rebellion will only bring ruin to your people. Let me offer you a better path."
Marcius sneered.
"And what could the bastard son of Drakon possibly offer me? Empty promises?"
Abaddon stepped forward, his tone firm.
"Autonomy. You govern Wyrm City and its lands without interference. No tributes, no Drakon soldiers. In return, you pledge loyalty to me—not my father, not my siblings. Me."
The hall fell into a heavy silence. Marcius leaned forward, studying Abaddon with sharp, calculating eyes.
"You speak with conviction...young Kaedryn "
Marcius said slowly
"But what of your siblings—Prince Veylan, Prinncess Seraphina, Prince Aelric, and the others? They won't stand for this."
"Oh them, they would be here by tomorrow to destroy you, like the savages you'd expect from a Drakon: Purge...but they don't matter "
Abaddon replied coldly.
"Only if you accept my offer."
For a long moment, Marcius was silent. Then he leaned back, his expression contemplative.
"You just returned from the dead a day ago and you're already in this political game...quite sharp minded, you may yet be the only Drakon worth following and the only Drakon to speak with such evil tone"
"But how can I swear allegiance to a master who's a sheep waiting to be slaughtered? In the world of Rankers, survival is brutal. Having two Bronze Stage Rankers at your side won't save you."
Abaddon smirked, his gaze shifting toward the mercenaries. The Barbarian and the other green skinned man with frog like eyes.
"Why don't you see for yourself if I'm worth following?"
Marcius's lips curved into a sly grin.
"If you insist, your Highness. But keep in mind—Bjorn here is a two-star Common Rank. Bjorn, test his abilities and resilience for me. Don't go all out; he's not a Ranker."
The towering Barbarian scratched his head, his deep voice rumbling as he replied.
"Bjorn understands."
The ground trembled slightly with each of Bjorn's steps as he advanced toward Abaddon. His sheer size and presence were imposing, an embodiment of raw power.
'What an aura'
Abaddon mused to himself, his sharp gaze fixed on the Barbarian.
'So primal… Is this the strength of the Barbarians? The descendants of the fighting style ancestor made me mastered.'
His thoughts were interrupted by Marcius's sharp bark, loud enough to catch the attention of nearby courtiers and mercenaries, who gathered to see what was happening.
"Begin!"
Bjorn adopted a primal, unorthodox stance, a toothy grin spreading across his face.
"Human child, I'll only use one strike. If you survive it, you pass. Don't worry—I'll hold back."
Mantra energy surged through the Barbarian, causing the ground beneath him to crack and rumble. His eyes glowed like embers as he unleashed a devastating punch. The ground split further as a fiery shockwave in the shape of a massive fist hurtled toward Abaddon.
"Stone Bear Punch!"
Marcius leapt to his feet, his expression darkening with alarm. "You brainless fool! I told you he's a normal human! Why did you use a skill on him? If he dies—"
But the attack was already in motion, barreling toward Abaddon with unrelenting ferocity.
'Such raw power... I would love to devour it, Abaddon thought, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. But to gain this man's allegiance, I must show a glimpse of my strength.'
A smirk tugged at the corners of Abaddon's lips as he faced the oncoming destruction.
'On a head on clash I doubt I can defeat this brute, but I could kill this Barbarian right now especially with his guard down around me, and I'll just call it an accident. His mantra energy and blood would be invaluable to my cause. My Blood Specters grow stronger in two ways: through my own breakthroughs, which take time, or by sacrificing stronger blood to upgrade them. Typically, it would take fifty men to achieve a single tier upgrade. But this Barbarian's blood alone could provide enough power to achieve half an upgrade.'
His predatory smile widened as he whispered to himself, It sees me as a mere human. Let's surprise it with a death blow.
"Chaos Dominion"
Abaddon uttered, his voice calm but brimming with authority.
With a snap of his fingers, the sound echoed through the air, accompanied by the soft splatter of a droplet of blood hitting the ground.
Thud.
A crimson mist erupted from beneath Abaddon's feet, quickly enveloping the area in an otherworldly haze. The onlookers recoiled in confusion and fear, save for Fatty and Jane, who stood unfazed.
From the depths of the mist, two figures emerged. The Gluttonous Beast, a massive, armored monstrosity, loomed over even the mighty Bjorn; Ravana. Beside it stood the Assassin, Apophis, it's blade gleaming with lethal intent.
Together, they launched a devastating counterattack. Ravana's sword cut through the air, unleashing a colossal slash infused with Apophis's cross-cut energy. The strike collided with Bjorn's fiery shockwave, consuming it entirely.
Before Bjorn could react, he was sliced cleanly in two. The devastating attack tore through him effortlessly, continuing its trajectory across the room. It narrowly missed Marcius, striking the stone walls with such force that the entire building trembled.
A deafening silence followed. Courtiers, mercenaries, and even Marcius himself were frozen in fear. The presence of Abaddon's Blood Generals was overwhelming, and the air seemed thick with dread. The only sounds were the occasional drip of sweat hitting the floor and the pounding of terrified hearts.
Standing before the towering specters, Abaddon spoke mockingly, his tone laced with disdain.
"I'm so sorry. I had to give my best effort to impress you with just one attack…"
His unsettling aura grew heavier as he continued, his voice cold and commanding.
"So… tell me, Vassal Lord. Do I qualify?"
Marcius remained frozen, gripped by terror. His thoughts raced as he stared at the remnants of the brutal scene.
'What is he? This chaotic disturbance... Cutting through a two-star Common Rank Barbarian with ease… Those creatures…'
A single thought repeated in his mind: 'This Drakon is no ordinary boy. His return from the grave will shake the entire empire, its worth following him than to face the same destiny as the Barbarian...'
The writhing remains of Bjorn's body pulled Marcius back to reality. Abaddon, now radiating expectation, stood silently, awaiting an answer.
Shaking with every step, Marcius lowered his head in submission—a stark contrast to his previously confident demeanor. Each movement felt scrutinized by the Blood Generals looming nearby, their presence a constant reminder of Abaddon's power.
Jane and Fatty exchanged knowing glances. They weren't entirely surprised. Four years ago, Abaddon and Orlan had shared part of the truth—about Orlan's possession by No'el and the mysterious power Abaddon wielded. Though its source remained unclear, one thing was evident: it wasn't demonic.
Finally, Marcius stepped forward, bowing slightly as he extended a trembling hand.
"I swear my allegiance to you alone, my Prince."
Abaddon's cold smile returned. With a snap of his fingers, more specters materialized, their forms emerging ominously around the room.
"Good. Your allegiance is accepted, but I can't allow others to know my nature and live. Since you're now with me, you have a choice: trade your life for theirs or watch as I erase them."
The words sent shockwaves through the room. Jane, Marcius, and the remaining courtiers and mercenaries recoiled in horror. Marcius's face twisted in cowardice as he caved to self-preservation, choosing his own life over those of the innocents.
With a single command, the blood specters unleashed chaos. The chamber filled with the desperate screams and agonized cries of those who fell under their relentless assault. Jane clenched her fists, wanting to intervene, but Fatty placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, silently shaking his head.
As the blood specters absorbed the blood energy of the fallen, their chaotic affinity grew stronger. Using necrotic blood techniques, Abaddon directed the power of the lifeless bodies to further enhance the specters' strength.
Marcius, pale and trembling, hastily drafted his pledge of allegiance on parchment, sealing it with the legal blood stamp of Wyrm City. He handed it to Abaddon, his face devoid of its former pride.
Abaddon turned coldly and left with Fatty and Jane. The once vibrant hall was now a lifeless ruin, littered with dried corpses. Yet something was amiss—Bjorn's body was nowhere to be found.
That Evening...
Later that night, Abaddon presented Marcius's formal pledge to the council at Drakon Keep. The announcement sent shockwaves through the room.
Veylan shot to his feet, his voice laced with fury.
"This… This must be fake, Father! It's impossible!"
But Lord Gaius had already verified the blood stamp.
"The seal carries Marcius's soul aura. It's authentic."
Seraphina scoffed, her sharp voice cutting through the tension.
"Father, you declared we would begin the challenge tomorrow! This breaks the rules!"
As the siblings protested, Abaddon stood silently, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Meanwhile, Aelric, Knox, and Belladon exchanged amused glances, unable to suppress faint chuckles at their power-hungry siblings' indignation.
Kaedryn silenced the room with a single, commanding word:
"Enough."
Turning to Abaddon, his gaze burned with a rare mixture of pride and intensity.
"Indeed, I said the challenge would begin tomorrow"
Kaedryn acknowledged, his voice steady.
Abaddon's expression turned serious, while Veylan and Seraphina regained their arrogance. But their confidence crumbled with Kaedryn's next words.
"I set that timeline because I believed completing the task overnight was impossible for any of you. Yet Abaddon has proven me wrong. He has exceeded all expectations."
Kaedryn continued, his tone decisive.
"From this day forward, I assign high-ranking cooks, servants, and Dragon Guards to Abaddon's quarters. Refill his treasury with my personal gold and weapons. Provide him with the finest materials and restore the Elysium Quarters to their former glory."
As Kaedryn turned to leave, he rested a firm hand on Abaddon's shoulder, instantly igniting a suppressed rage within him. Fatty, standing near the entrance, caught the unmistakable flash of fury in Abaddon's burning red eyes as the two men stood back to back.
"Remember, boy—victory breeds enemies. Stay vigilant."
With that, Kaedryn exited, followed by Lord Gaius and the rest of the council.
After the Meeting...
As Abaddon left the chamber, No'el's voice whispered in his mind.
"It's time to treat your wounds. I'll guide you to a dungeon beneath the Keep—the entrance to the Sacred Volcanic Flames."