The death of Overseer Bran should have brought celebration. Instead, it brought silence.
No one rejoiced. No one dared.
Because all of them had seen the look in the madman's eyes—seen the terror that broke him.
And all of them noticed the slave who sat alone, unmoving, watching.
Azrael felt the shift. Not in words or gestures, but in the quiet ripple of their fear. It clung to the air, thick and potent.
Ding!
> [Ambient Fear detected: +12 Points]
[Total Fear Points: 112]
Not much. But enough.
He closed his eyes.
In the dark corners of his soul, something stirred.
---
That night, as the others lay in restless sleep, Azrael summoned the Shadow System again.
> [Spend 100 Fear Points to upgrade Shadow Veil to Lv.2?]
— Effect: Duration 30 seconds. Cloaks presence from divine and mortal detection.
— Additional Effect: Shadows cannot bind you.
"Do it."
Pain lanced through his spine. His shadow twisted, then coiled like smoke around his limbs. The collar burned against his skin—then faded, flickering faintly.
Ding!
> [Shadow Veil (Lv.2) Acquired]
[You are no longer detectable while cloaked.]
Freedom, even for half a minute, was enough.
He stood.
Unseen. Unheard.
And he moved.
---
The guards never noticed the missing pickaxe. Nor the strange absence of footprints near the ration tent. By morning, the cruelest among them—Sergeant Maldrik—lay facedown in the slop trough, mouth stuffed with black gravel, throat cut clean.
No one claimed to know how.
But every eye turned toward Azrael's empty stare.
Ding!
> [Fear Points +180]
[Total: 192]
[Hidden Trait: Terror Infusion (Passive) unlocked]
— Your presence slowly corrodes the sanity of those weaker than you.
The system fed him steadily now. A trickle of terror. A quiet harvest.
Still, it was not enough.
He needed more.
---
Days passed.
Azrael remained quiet, patient, observing. He learned the guards' routes. The daily routines. The hidden tunnel behind the latrine that reeked of rot but led beyond the inner wall.
Then, a whisper reached his ears—spoken by a trembling old slave.
"The Auction is coming."
He turned his head.
"Speak."
The man flinched.
"E-every three moons, they sell the strongest of us… nobles buy labor for their mines, or… their pleasure." He shivered. "None come back."
Azrael's eyes narrowed.
Nobles. Connections. Information. Power.
Perfect.
Let them sell him.
Let them bring him closer to the heart of this kingdom.
---
That night, he stood beneath the shattered moon, hidden in the veil of shadows. His voice was a whisper carried on the wind.
"Let the world offer me its chains… so I may wrap them around its neck."
The system answered.
Ding!
> [Main Questline Initiated: Rise of the Uncrowned Heir]
Stage 1: Escape the Slave Pits
Stage 2: Infiltrate the Kingdom
Stage 3: Reclaim the Throne
He stared into the horizon, where the capital's lights burned faintly in the far distance.
"I will not return as a king."
His lips curled.
"I will return as their fear."
---
End of Chapter 2