The headquarters of the Dread Legion did not merely stand within New Haven's fortified core—
It dominated it.
A citadel of warded steel and crimson-etched stone, its towering mass eclipsed surrounding barricades like a war-god seated upon a throne of bones. Essence barriers rippled faintly across its surface, distorting the ever-present city fog into spiraling veils.
As Xia Ying approached on foot, the encrypted invitation chip in his pocket radiated a faint, pulsing warmth—recognized, acknowledged, claimed.
Military transports thundered past overhead, ferrying armored wardens between Rift deployments. Holographic banners shimmered above the main causeway:
**UNITY IN HUNGER — ASCEND TOGETHER**
The entrance gates loomed—colossal slabs engraved with reliefs of conquered Rifts, harvested horrors, and ascending harvesters crowned in terror light.
As he neared—
A scanning pulse swept his core.
The gates parted with a resonant grind.
Waiting beyond the perimeter line stood Lin Mei and Wei Jun.
Lin Mei's healer glow flickered faintly—anxious, restless.
"They'll push hard," she said quietly. "Chains disguised as gifts."
Wei Jun's eyes remained fixed on the citadel.
"Extract everything you can. Bazaar chatter says Legion losses are mounting."
Xia Ying's smile was faint.
"Masks for masks."
He stepped forward.
"Wait here."
---
## **Citadel of Harvesters**
Two Realm 4 wardens escorted him inside—silent, disciplined, though their curiosity leaked through restrained glances.
Whispers trailed in the halls:
"The Slum Savior…"
"Solo Rank 3…"
"Phantom summoner…"
The interior of the citadel contrasted its warlike exterior.
Opulence.
Calculated.
Weaponized prestige.
Hallways were lined with display reliquaries housing condensed essence relics—glowing terror orbs suspended in stasis fields.
Murals stretched across vaulted walls, depicting Legion harvesters sealing colossal Rifts beneath banners of shared ascension.
Banquet chambers displayed synthetic feasts sculpted from stabilized essence—symbolic representations of communal harvest.
Above, chandeliers of crystallized dread cast shifting shadows across nightmare-woven tapestries.
Each tapestry depicted the **Nine Realms** not as tiers—
But as chains.
Ascending links toward sovereignty.
*A philosophy,* Xia Ying noted calmly.
*Not evolution—ownership.*
He was escorted to an upper chamber overlooking the fortified cityscape.
The office was lavish.
Warded obsidian walls.
A desk carved from the fossilized core of a slain horror.
And behind it—
Sat Captain Elara Voss.
Realm 5 authority.
Her uniform was ornate, etched with conquest sigils.
Crimson scar-tattoos pulsed faintly along her throat and jawline—living marks of harvested power.
Her intimidation Dominion pressed subtly across the room.
Like a hand testing the strength of his neck.
His Title blunted it to nothing more than a passing breeze.
"Xia Ying," she greeted smoothly.
"The Slum Savior. Welcome."
Her lips curved faintly.
"I am Captain Elara Voss—overseer of advanced recruitment… and yes, related to your examiner. Though far above his station."
She gestured to the seat before her—cushioned in relic hide.
A decanter of stabilized essence brew poured into twin cups.
"Drink. It sharpens the mind."
He accepted with a polite nod.
Warmth spread through him—refined essence, diluted but pure.
*Palaces,* he thought.
*Always built around chains.*
---
## **The Offer of Ascension**
Her pitch unfolded with polished elegance.
"Your solo Rift suppression is… extraordinary. Rare Dominions often manifest early brilliance. The Legion cultivates such brilliance into legend."
A holo-projector activated behind her.
Scenes bloomed:
Legion squads harvesting coordinated Rifts.
Banquet halls where essence orbs were shared ceremonially.
High-Realm harvesters unleashing catastrophic Dominions in controlled demonstrations.
"Resources unbound," she continued.
"Guided Rifts. Stabilized harvest zones. No starvation cycles."
"Terror mentors—Realm 6 and above—train embodiment safely. Prevent abyss backlash."
She leaned forward slightly.
"Rapid advancement through shared feasts. We've raised common recruits to Realm 6 within months."
Her eyes gleamed.
"Your Dominion—Lord of Nightmares. Rare. Sovereign-adjacent. Under Legion structure… you could ascend without chains of instability."
Flattery layered expertly.
"Your phantom familiar alone marks you as elite. Abyss-eyed summons capable of commanding horrors are… uncommon."
Xia Ying listened, engaged but neutral.
Then he probed.
"What sustains beyond Realm 7?"
A fractional hesitation.
Then she indulged.
"Veil thinning accelerates. Cosmic hunger seeps through widening fractures. Rifts now cycle on near-lunar patterns—predictable with Legion data."
She gestured to rotating projections.
"High-Realm harvesters risk dissolution without anchored essence chains. Shared networks stabilize ascension."
Her voice lowered slightly.
"Realm 8 glimpses the Abyss directly. Something… watches beyond the hunger."
Valuable.
He filed every word.
She continued:
"Recent shortages stem from unstable ascents. Losses… unavoidable."
Intel harvested cleanly:
• Rift cycles predictable
• Veil degradation accelerating
• Legion suffering high-Realm attrition
• Abyss entities aware of ascenders
Outside the citadel walls, unseen—
Lin Mei paced anxiously.
Wei Jun counted patrol rotations.
---
## **The Chain Tightens**
The offer formalized.
"Join the Legion formally. Contract binding ensures protection, ascension priority, and resource entitlement."
Xia Ying inclined his head slightly.
"Your offer honors me, Captain. Stability, mentorship… they tempt."
Then—
"But I will walk my path independently a while longer."
Her expression hardened subtly.
"Independents starve eventually. Or lose themselves to unchecked hunger. Legion chains protect ascension."
Concern layered over warning.
He met her gaze calmly.
Her Dominion pressed again—
He let his aura leak in response.
Feedback laced the air invisibly.
Their eyes locked.
He tailored the projection precisely—
Her private terror.
A failed ascension.
Standing at Realm's threshold—
Abyss staring back.
Dissolution waiting.
Her breath caught.
Scar-tattoos flickered erratically.
For one brief second—
Captain Elara Voss looked afraid.
"What… abyss whisper was that?" she murmured.
He simply rose.
"My path is my own, Captain. I appreciate your time."
The room felt colder.
Shadows deepened subtly along the walls.
Inside, his thoughts were calm.
*Leash tested.*
*Leash declined.*
*Her hunger mirrors mine.*
*Mine devours.*
---
## **Veiled Threats**
She recovered quickly—discipline reforged.
But her voice tightened.
"Paths fork, Xia Ying. Independents are watched. Rogues hunted. Veil anomalies monitored closely."
A pause.
"The Legion offers shields. Refusal… is noted."
He bowed politely.
"Guidance appreciated."
The escort out was noticeably tenser.
Wardens avoided eye contact.
Whispers followed in hushed disbelief.
"Did he unsettle Voss…?"
"Impossible…"
---
## **Allies and Aftermath**
Outside the citadel gates, Lin Mei rushed forward.
"You refused, right?"
Relief flooded her face when he nodded.
Wei Jun smirked.
"What did you extract?"
"Rift cycles. Legion shortages. Veil degradation."
Wei Jun's eyes lit sharply.
"Useful."
They walked back toward the city's lower districts together.
Citizens recognized him now.
Nods.
Murmured gratitude.
"Slum Savior…"
Fame had already taken root.
But chains were subtler here than in empires of his past life.
Essence taxes.
Guided hunts.
Mentorship dependency.
All levers of control.
He exhaled softly.
"The leash refused," he murmured. "Now I forge my own crown."
---
## **Bazaar's Whisper**
That evening, his comm chip pulsed.
Veiled Nightmare Kai.
Message encrypted.
> "Legion snub made waves. Reputation burning hot."
> "Need somewhere hidden? I've got a warded safehouse near the Bazaar."
> "Untaxed refinement chambers. Private stabilization."
> "Details attached."
A map projection unfolded—
An undercity stronghold layered in essence wards.
Perfect for high-Realm stabilization.
Perfect for independent harvest refinement.
Xia Ying studied it in silence.
Then smiled faintly.
"Chains rejected," he whispered.
"Now the lair is required."
Beyond his window, the city's Rift-scarred skyline pulsed faint crimson.
And beneath it—
The Bazaar waited.
Whispering.
Inviting.
Hungry.