The forest where Kael and his allies emerged pulsed with residual energy—Dominion and divinity mingling like oil and blood. The ground was scorched, the sky dim, as though the sun itself dared not shine upon the chosen of the Abyss.
Kael stood still for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the gauntlet of chains around his arm. It pulsed—not in hunger, but in expectation. As though it were calling.
Waiting for him to act.
---
Gathering Shadows
"I need more," Kael said, voice low. "Not just power. Not just raw strength. Loyalty. A court that the gods themselves will fear."
Aeron raised an eyebrow. "What, like a war council?"
"No," Kael replied. "Like a dominion of broken souls. Beings like us. Exiled. Cursed. Unchained."
Sera smirked. "You want to build a kingdom."
"No," Kael said again, darker now. "I want to build an empire. One that doesn't kneel to the divine or beg for light."
He turned, shadows swirling at his back.
"I'll start with the Ruined Tribes."
---
The Ruined Tribes
Long ago, before the Twelve Gods rose to prominence, the Ruined Tribes ruled vast territories across the fractured realms. Blessed by ancient beasts, bonded to forgotten spirits, they held deep ties to the primal forces. But when the gods took control, these tribes were hunted, cursed, and driven into hiding.
Now, Kael intended to bring them back.
"Nyra," he said, turning to the beastmaster. "You said your kin once followed the Moon-Claw Pact?"
Nyra nodded slowly. "My mother spoke of it in whispers. A bond forged between mortals and beasts under the eyes of the true moon. We were more than tamers—we were equals."
"Then we start there."
---
Journey to the Wild Expanse
The group set out toward the Wild Expanse, a region untouched by divine influence—chaotic, wild, and alive. Every step into its tangled wilderness was a challenge. Beasts watched them. The trees whispered old names.
Nyra led the way with reverence, her hands glowing as she sang in a dead language.
Hours passed. Days.
Until they reached it:
A massive stone carved with the image of a panther with three eyes. The altar of the Moon-Claw Pact.
Kael stepped forward—and the shadows writhed in delight.
The ground cracked. The air thickened.
And the panther spirit awakened.
---
Trial of the Pact
From the altar surged a spectral beast, its eyes burning silver and black. It circled Kael silently, judging, sniffing, tasting his soul.
"You are no beastmaster," it said in a voice that rumbled like thunder through soil. "You carry the Sovereign's wound. The dominion's hunger."
Kael didn't flinch. "I don't want to tame you. I want you to rise. With me. Against them."
The spirit hissed. "You would chain the wild to your throne?"
"No," Kael whispered. "I would unchain it."
A pause.
Then the beast lunged—straight into him.
His body burned with primal fire and abyssal ice. A new mark carved itself into his chest: the sigil of the Moon-Claw.
Nyra fell to one knee. "He is accepted."
The first of the Ruined Tribes would follow.
---
Meanwhile…
Back in the heavens, the gods watched with growing unease.
"He awakens the old pacts," the Feathered God whispered.
"Foolish," said the Archon of Dawn. "Let him gather his rabble. We'll burn them again."
But the Masked God only watched… and smiled.
"Let him build. Every court needs a fall."
---
End of Chapter 36