The air in the reinforced basement of the Vayne Estate was heavy, suffocating under the weight of condensed mana.
I stood before a black iron altar, the only light source coming from the object resting upon it.
The [Void Heart].
It was a fist-sized gem of pulsating violet crystal, harvested from the carcass of the Void Queen. It didn't just sit there; it beat like a living organ, each throb sending a ripple of cold, eldritch energy through the room.
In the game, players would usually craft this into a "Void-Slayer Sword" or a "Staff of the Hive Mind." Powerful items, certainly. But I didn't need a better sword. I had money for that.
I needed a General.
"A Baron needs an army," I whispered, running a gloved hand over the jagged surface of the heart. "And an army needs someone to lead it when I'm busy counting money."
I stepped back and raised my hand.
"Arise."
The shadow at my feet elongated, twisting and boiling until it formed a humanoid shape. Nero, my faithful Shadow Knight, rose from the floor. He knelt instantly, his head bowed, his body wreathed in the familiar blue flames of his rank.
He was strong—Level 25 now, thanks to the XP share from the Calamity—but he was still just a grunt. A silent, mindless soldier who needed constant micromanagement.
"Stand, Nero," I commanded.
The knight stood.
"You have served me well," I said, picking up the Void Heart. The crystal burned cold against my palm. "But 'well' is no longer enough. I need perfection."
I stepped forward and pressed the Void Heart directly against the center of Nero's chest plate.
[System Prompt: Attempting to fuse 'Void Heart' with 'Shadow Knight'.] [Success Rate: 100% (Shadow Sovereign Trait Active).] [Warning: Evolution will be violent.]
"Accept it," I ordered.
Nero didn't flinch. He didn't have the capacity for fear. He simply opened his arms.
I shoved the crystal into his spectral body.
SCREEEEEEEE!
The sound that erupted wasn't human. It was the sound of reality tearing.
Nero arched his back, a guttural roar tearing from his throat as the violet energy of the Void clashed with the midnight blue of his Shadow essence. The room shook. Mana-dampening runes on the walls flickered and sparked.
His silhouette began to distort. He grew, his limbs cracking and elongating. The standard-issue plate armor he wore shattered, replaced by something far more sinister growing out of his very essence.
Thick, jagged plates of obsidian armor formed over his chest and shoulders. A tattered, ethereal cape made of pure void-mana unfurled from his back, drifting as if caught in an underwater current.
When the light finally died down, the creature standing before me was no longer a knight.
He was seven feet tall, a towering monolith of death. His helmet was now a crown of black steel spikes, and deep within the visor, two purple flames burned with a terrifying intelligence.
A series of golden chimes rang out, signaling the birth of a monster.
[ System Notification: General Evolved. ]
[ Rank Up: Abyssal General ]
[ New Ability Unlocked: Legion Commander (Can lead 500 shadows independently). ]
[ Reward: +1,000 Destiny Points. ]
Nero looked at his new gauntleted hands. He clenched his fist, the sound of grinding metal echoing in the silence.
Then, he looked at me. He dropped to one knee, the impact cracking the stone floor.
"My Liege..."
His voice was deep, resonant, and layered—like three people speaking at once from the bottom of a well.
"I... await... your command."
I smiled, a shiver of satisfaction running down my spine. He could speak. He could think.
"At ease, General," I said. "Prepare the Legion. We have a tournament to win."
While I was forging a monster in the comfort of my mansion, Kaelen was drowning in the rain.
The Academy training grounds were deserted at this hour. A torrential downpour hammered against the mud, turning the practice field into a swamp.
Thwack. Thwack. Crack.
Kaelen stood before a reinforced wooden dummy, swinging a dulled iron sword with manic repetition. He wasn't practicing a form. He was just hitting it. Over and over again.
His hands were blistered and bleeding. His uniform was soaked, plastered to his shivering frame.
Why? his mind screamed with every strike. Why wasn't I enough?
He saw the image of the Void Queen's head being lifted by the crane. He saw the villagers ignoring him. He saw Seraphina walking away.
Thwack.
"I trained harder than anyone..."
Thwack.
"I have the Hero's blood..."
CRACK.
His sword snapped. The rusty blade broke in half, the top spinning away into the mud.
Kaelen stared at the broken hilt in his hand. He fell to his knees, his scream of frustration lost in the roar of the thunder.
"It's not fair!" he sobbed, slamming his fist into the mud. "He buys everything! He steals everything! How am I supposed to fight that?"
"You cannot fight him with light, boy."
The voice didn't come from behind him. It seemed to whisper directly into his ear, cold and slippery like oil.
Kaelen froze. He looked around wildly. "Who's there?"
There was no one. Just the rain and the shadows of the academy spires.
"The light is weak," the voice hissed, sounding like rust scraping against bone. "The light requires rules. It requires honor. Did Baron Vayne use honor when he stole your glory?"
Kaelen's grip on the broken sword hilt tightened. "No."
"Did he use rules when he bought the woman you love?"
"No!" Kaelen shouted.
"Then why do you cling to them?"
A flash of lightning illuminated the field. For a second, Kaelen thought he saw a figure standing at the edge of the forest—a hooded silhouette with eyes that glowed a sickly green. But when he blinked, it was gone.
Lying in the mud where the figure had been was a ring. A simple band of black iron, etched with runes that hurt to look at.
Kaelen crawled toward it. He knew he shouldn't touch it. He knew it was dangerous.
But he remembered Lucas's smirk. Try buying a faster horse.
Kaelen grabbed the ring.
"Hatred never forgets," the voice whispered.
Kaelen slid the ring onto his finger.
As the cold metal settled against his skin, a strange, unnatural peace settled over his chaotic heart. The pain in his hands faded. The noise of the rain seemed to distance itself.
With this... Kaelen thought, staring at the black band. I can finally make it fair.
The next morning, the sun shone brightly on the Academy, oblivious to the darkness brewing in the hearts of its students.
The Grand Auditorium was packed. Thousands of students sat in the tiered rows, buzzing with excitement.
Headmaster Alaric stood at the podium, his voice amplified by wind magic.
"Students! Quiet, please!"
The room hushed.
"As you know, the Calamity has been averted, thanks to the... unique efforts of one of our own," Alaric said, his eyes flicking briefly to where I sat in the front row. "However, the world is still dangerous. We must be strong. Therefore, the Emperor has authorized the early commencement of the Imperial Exchange Tournament!"
A cheer went up from the crowd. The Tournament was the biggest event of the year.
"Top students from the four Great Academies will compete," Alaric continued. "The winner will receive a private audience with the Emperor, the title of 'Imperial Champion,' and a legendary artifact from the Royal Vault: The Dragon's Tear."
My ears perked up.
The Dragon's Tear. In the game lore, that was a catalyst item used to unlock the "Second Awakening" for magical bloodlines. If I wanted to push my stats past the human limit, I needed that gem.
"Sign-ups are open immediately!" Alaric finished.
I stood up and walked to the registration table. The crowd parted like the Red Sea. Nobody wanted to bump into the "Baron."
I picked up the quill.
"Name?" the registrar asked nervously.
"Lucas Vayne," I said, signing with a flourish.
"The Baron is entering?" a student whispered loudly. "Is that fair? He has a literal army." "I heard he killed a Raid Boss solo." "We're doomed. Why even bother?"
I ignored them. I looked down at the list of names already registered.
There, at the very top, written in jagged, forceful handwriting that had nearly torn the paper, was a familiar name.
Kaelen.
I stared at the name. The handwriting looked... angry. Different than his usual neat script.
I smirked.
"So, you haven't given up yet," I murmured, handing the quill back to the trembling registrar.
I turned and walked out of the hall, my cape billowing behind me.
"Good. Breaking you once wasn't enough."