CHAPTER SEVEN — THE WORLD TREMBLES
The seventh night after the Beast Tide was quiet.
Too quiet.
The capital normally hummed with nightlife: taverns glowing warm with laughter, merchant streets still clinking with coin, and late-night training in the barracks echoing beyond the palace walls.
But tonight?
It was silent.
The city sensed something.
An invisible pressure.
A presence lingering above them.
The people whispered:
"The Demon Prince is awake."
And he was.
He stood atop the highest spire of the royal palace, cloak drifting like raven feathers in the wind, crimson eyes reflecting the glow of the moon. From this height he saw everything — the kingdom spread beneath him like a tapestry of flickering lights.
Children eating their first real meals.
Slum orphans training with wooden daggers.
Merchants oversleeping after record-high sales.
Blacksmiths cooling their last blades.
Nobles pretending not to be afraid.
The massive wall cannons glinting under moonlight.
The newly rebuilt towers.
The blossoming hope.
He absorbed it all.
Because this was his world now — whether the world knew it or not.
THE CLONES RETURNA ripple of shadow stirred behind him.
Then another.
Then another.
One by one, Arcturus's clones stepped from the darkness — dozens, then hundreds — kneeling in perfect synchronization, like a summoned army returning to their emperor.
Their voices echoed as one:
"Master. Reporting."
Arcturus did not turn.
He let their memories wash into him like a tide of raw information.
Frost KingdomSnow-covered passes.
Black Pine Brigade ambushing Church caravans.
Seers growing frustrated as their visions weakened.
The Frost Prince hearing rumors of a midnight strategist leading bandits into perfect strikes.
Sun DynastyAzure Sun Guild under new management.
The Church scrambling after losing their entire treasury.
Palace officials confused by sudden economic shifts.
Merchants whispering about a "shadow chairman."
Western IslesPirate hunters disappearing without a trace.
Slave ships gone silent.
Black Tide vessels moving like phantom storms.
Whispers of a spectral captain.
Dwarven UnionIron Breakers rising in status.
Ancient forging techniques returning.
Dwarven elders secretly requesting new weapons "blessed by the outsider."
Church supply deals failing.
Tension rising.
Inside ValtarusSlum children becoming disciplined.
Militias forming.
Traitor families being monitored.
Hidden Church agents eliminated.
Bandit groups mysteriously wiped out.
Trade routes secured.
Arcturus processed everything without flinching.
Seven days.
His shadows now touched every corner of the continent.
He finally turned to face the clones.
"You have done well."
A wave of satisfaction rippled through their shared consciousness — a strange, collective emotion hummed across the shadows.
He lifted a hand.
The clones dissolved into smoke, returning to his mind.
But their achievements remained.
His empire was growing.
THE KINGDOM REGROUPSInside the palace, a war council had stretched for hours.
Aldric sat at the center, exhausted but alert.
Alistair, clean armor freshly polished, reviewed border maps.
Generals murmured over troop movements.
Arcturus entered quietly.
Everyone stiffened.
Aldric looked up first.
"My son."
Arcturus nodded.
"Father. Brother."
Alistair set down a scroll. "We've completed the investigations. Every conspirator within our borders is either captured or eliminated."
Aldric added, "And the wealth we seized from the eastern nobles… it is staggering."
Chests of gold.
Magical artifacts.
Forbidden scrolls.
Armories of enchanted weapons.
Blackmail documents.
Ledgers revealing decades of corruption.
Alistair rubbed his temples.
"The Radiant Church used the eastern nobles as puppets for years."
Arcturus responded calmly:
"They do that everywhere."
Aldric sighed. "We know."
Arcturus stepped forward.
"But now? They bleed."
The king raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Arcturus explained:
"Your purge weakened the Church's network in Valtarus."
"My clones weakened them elsewhere."
Alistair blinked slowly.
"…How much is elsewhere?"
Arcturus shrugged lightly.
"All major kingdoms."
The generals froze.
Alistair stared for a heartbeat.
"You infiltrated… every kingdom?"
"Not infiltrated," Arcturus corrected. "Influenced."
Aldric exhaled.
"What of the children you've taken in?"
Arcturus's gaze softened slightly — barely noticeable.
"I am shaping them. They will become elite scouts, informants, assassins, or leaders. The kingdom cannot rely solely on nobles and soldiers."
Alistair nodded. "Good. We need a generation not raised by corruption."
Aldric leaned back heavily, stroking his beard.
"So what now?"
Arcturus stepped closer to the table.
"We solidify power," he said. "Publicly, you and Alistair will rebuild the kingdom. Train soldiers. Recruit. Expand our defenses. Next year, you will reclaim the eastern province by force."
Alistair nodded. "And you?"
Arcturus's expression sharpened.
"I will expand."
The generals swallowed.
"Expand where, Your Highness?"
Arcturus smiled faintly.
"Everywhere."
Aldric exhaled sharply through his nose.
"You were always meant to be more than a prince."
His voice softened.
"But this… this is something else."
Arcturus inclined his head slightly.
"You are the light of this kingdom," he said quietly. "You and Alistair."
He turned.
"I will be the shadow protecting you both."
And he vanished.
THE WORLD OUTSIDE MOVESFrost KingdomA council of nobles sat uneasily while a Seer clutched her staff.
"It is clouded," she whispered. "My visions are fog. Something blocks the threads of fate."
A prince scowled.
"What does that mean?"
"It means…"
Her hands trembled.
"…someone powerful has entered the game."
Sun DynastyThe emperor slammed his fist on his throne.
"The Azure Sun Guild defies us? Why?"
No one knew.
But the bishop standing beside him felt sweat roll down his back.
"Something… something is moving in the shadows…"
Western IslesPirate hunters returned with empty decks.
"We found nothing," the captain reported. "It's like they vanish into fog."
"Impossible," said the admiral. "No fleet can hide like that."
But they already had.
Dwarven UnionThe Forge Masters whispered among themselves.
"This outsider… these blades… this knowledge…"
One elder finally voiced it:
"He is not normal."
A CONTINENT TREMBLESArcturus walked through the capital at night, unseen, invisible, drifting through alleyways and rooftops like a ghost.
He watched:
A mother tuck her son into bed.
A baker knead dough with tired hands.
Guards laughing after surviving the siege.
Artisans repairing talismans.
A young noble girl practicing sword swings.
Children from his orphan camps training in secret courtyards.
He saw the kingdom he would protect.
He saw the people he would shield.
He saw what the world would try to take from them.
And he made a promise to himself.
No one touches Valtarus.
No Church.
No kingdom.
No Primordial.
No god.
He stepped into the center of a wide street, moonlight bathing him in pale silver.
The shadows at his feet rippled.
And the world seemed to hold its breath.
"Seven days," he murmured. "That's all it took."
Seven days to shake the continent.
Seven days to build an invisible empire.
Seven days to become a myth.
He turned toward the horizon.
"My shadows have spread."
He spread his fingers.
"And the world trembles."
He stepped forward.
And vanished into the night.