The world had finally bent the knee. Flags bearing Zairon's crest — a wild, spiraling dragon coiling around a cracked crown — fluttered in every city and settlement across the lands.
Yet Zairon sat alone on his throne, the great hall silent except for the faint hum of the energy swirling around him. His crimson eyes, sharper and wilder than ever, stared into nothingness.
Conquering was only the beginning. Now came the real work — forging a world strong enough to stand against anything.
He rose, his steps echoing. "Summon them," he ordered coldly.
Within minutes, his generals, lieutenants, advisors, and key figures of the new world filed into the hall, each kneeling with a fist over their hearts. Zairon's madness leaked faintly into the air, making even the bravest of them feel as if monsters lurked just beyond their vision.
Zairon spoke, voice calm but carrying an irresistible force:
"Strength must not only be achieved... it must be maintained. And only the worthy will walk beside me."
He laid out his decree:
Sovereign Trials would be established.
A brutal system of tests where only the strong, the cunning, and the loyal would rise.
Trials would cover combat, spirit cultivation, strategy, and willpower under extreme madness pressure.
Elite Units Formation.
He ordered the creation of the "Crimson Fangs," squads of S-rank and above warriors loyal solely to him.
Each unit would answer directly to the Sovereign's command, trained to crush rebellion before it bloomed.
Cultivation Towers Construction.
Ancient energy wells, hidden across the world, would be unearthed.
These would be reforged into towering temples where only his loyalists could enter and cultivate their strength.
Systematic Purging.
Anyone showing hesitation, betrayal, or cowardice would be publicly stripped of power—or worse.
Rumors of strange, silent disappearances began to spread, tightening the atmosphere of fear and loyalty.
That night, standing alone atop the world's highest peak, Zairon looked up at the stars.
The madness still roared inside him, tempting him to destroy everything and dance amidst the ruins.
But no.
He grinned.
"I will build an empire so strong," he whispered into the cold wind, "that even the monsters of Raur will hesitate."
The first construction of the Cultivation Towers began. Across the continent, thousands competed madly for a place in the Sovereign Trials. Battles broke out between the aspirants, some entire cities turning into brutal arenas under the Sovereign's tacit approval.
Only the strong would survive. Only the strong would be allowed to bask under Zairon's rule.
And in secret, while the world fought and grew strong under his chaotic system, Zairon continued his own cultivation behind closed doors — his goal simple:
Ascend higher. Reach the peak of existence. Conquer even the unreachable.
The Sovereign's stabilization had begun.
And Earth would never be the same again.