Eric scrambled back up the winding, dark staircase, his mind reeling from the ritual he had just witnessed. The raw, malevolent power that had surged from the altar had not dissipated; it had been channeled. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that he had failed to prevent the cult's ultimate goal. The "Crimson King" was no longer a name in a ritual—he was a burgeoning presence in the world.
He burst into the clearing, his Wyvern-blade held ready. The battle was over. The cultists lay scattered across the forest floor, a silent testament to his team's efficiency.
"Eric!" Kord shouted, his massive form stained with dirt and sweat. "We handled them. What did you find down there? What was that flash of light?"
Eric's gaze swept over his team. Lysa and Anya looked exhausted but unharmed. Lady Lysandra, too, was safe. "We need to scour this entire area," Eric said, his voice grim. "Every inch of this cave, every part of this clearing. We're looking for anything—scrolls, artifacts, any indication of where that power went."
The search was long and thorough, but it yielded nothing. The cave, once a site of dark ritual, now felt empty and hollow. The suppression array was gone, and the altar was nothing more than a blood-stained piece of stone. Eric knew in his gut that the essence of the ritual, the cultist's sacrifice, had been a key component. He had not stopped the ritual; he had merely been its final catalyst.
His mind was a maelstrom of fear and frustration. He had to act. He immediately pulled out his Directorate communication stone. The message was concise and direct, detailing his discovery of a major cult base, the ritual, the name of the "Crimson King, Valerius Malakor," and his belief that the figure had been released.
The Directorate's response was swift and decisive. Within hours, a full-scale investigation was launched. The Eastern Territories became a priority. The Directorate also informed the Emperor of the situation, a move that would undoubtedly have far-reaching consequences.
Later, as they made their way back to his manor, Eric received another message from Master Varian. "Lord Valerius will be held in Imperial custody and judged for his actions and his involvement with the cult. His status as a lord will be suspended pending a full investigation."
Eric understood. Valerius, despite being a victim of the cult's influence, had tried to have an Imperial lord assassinated. The Emperor could not overlook such an act. But the news was still a heavy burden, especially for the young woman he had left behind.
He visited Lady Lysandra later that evening. She was in her study, her face pale but her eyes clear.
"Eric," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "I received the news. My father... he will be judged."
"I am sorry, Lysandra," Eric said, his tone empathetic. "But you must understand. He tried to kill me, and he willingly conspired with a cult that terrorized his people. The Emperor cannot turn a blind eye."
"I know," she replied, her eyes welling with tears. "I understand the law. My father's actions, his pride and his greed, led him down this path. I do not excuse what he did. I am just... alone now." She looked up, her gaze pleading. "Eric, would you be willing to stay here, at the manor, for the time being? The thought of being here alone with a looming cult threat... it's terrifying. I need to know you're here."
Eric didn't hesitate. "Yes, Lysandra. Of course. I will stay here, and I will protect this domain and its people. Your father's manor is under my protection now."
She managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Lord Eric."
The next day, while Eric was training with the spiritual scrolls the Emperor had gifted him, he was approached by Lysandra. She was dressed in practical training clothes, a sword at her hip.
"Lord Eric," she said, her voice firm. "I've been cultivating since I was a child. I want to be stronger. I want to be able to protect my family's legacy and help you. Would you spar with me?"
Eric saw the determination in her eyes. "Yes, Lysandra," he said, a faint smile touching his lips. "Let's spar."
The sparring session was a testament to Lysandra's skill. Her movements were disciplined and graceful, and her Qi was surprisingly potent for her age. But Eric, with his concealed draconic power and his battle-hardened experience, had the clear upper hand. He effortlessly parried her attacks, redirecting her momentum and disarming her with a gentle, non-harmful touch.
After the sparring, they sat down to catch their breath. Lysandra looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of respect and curiosity. "Your power is... incredible, Eric. I've never seen anything like it. It's like you move on an entirely different plane."
"I have my secrets," Eric admitted, not revealing the true nature of his power. "You're a strong cultivator yourself, Lysandra. You have a lot of potential."
"Thank you," she said, a faint blush on her cheeks. She then turned serious. "What do you plan to do with your domain, Eric? With everything that's happened, I've had some time to think. This land, it's rich, but it's underdeveloped. My father was too focused on his pride to see its true potential."
Eric sighed, looking out at the lush, green landscape of his new domain. "I don't know yet. It's all happened so fast. I haven't had a real chance to step into my role. But if possible, I want to establish myself here. I want to use the resources, help the people, and make this a truly prosperous domain. A base of operations, not just a holding."
Lysandra nodded, a look of hope in her eyes. "My father's dream was to bring prosperity to these lands. But he took a dark and greedy path to get there. Maybe you can succeed where he failed."
Meanwhile, in a hidden cavern deep within the Whispering Woods, a pillar of ancient, black stone shuddered. Fissures appeared along its surface, pulsating with a malevolent, crimson light. With a final, earth-shaking crack, the pillar shattered, and a figure emerged.
He was a tall, powerfully built man, his skin a ghostly white, his eyes glowing a fierce, malevolent red. He was clad in ancient, rusted armor, and his presence exuded an aura of pure, unadulterated power that seemed to warp the very air around him. The man looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was surrounded by dozens of cloaked figures, their heads bowed in reverence.
"Who are you?" the man's voice boomed, his words ringing with an ancient, terrifying authority.
One of the cloaked figures, a man who seemed to be their leader, stepped forward, his head still bowed. "My Lord, we are your humble servants. We have waited for centuries for this day. We have gathered the power, we have performed the ritual. We have released you from your prison."
The man looked up at the cavern ceiling, a cold, terrifying smile on his face. "Finally," he said, the word a whisper that shook the very foundations of the cavern. "I am free. And now, I will take back what is rightfully mine. This Empire... it will burn."