The abandoned watchtower rose from the wasteland like a broken tooth, its upper half collapsed and its stone walls covered in creeping vines that looked more like veins than vegetation. It had been a defensive structure once, positioned to overlook the surrounding territory, but centuries of neglect had reduced it to a shell. Still, it remained standing, which was more than could be said for most structures in this cursed realm.
Lucas approached cautiously, his skeleton warriors fanning out in a loose protective formation. The Nightfall effect was active now—the crimson sun had dipped low enough that shadows dominated the landscape—and he could feel his units' increased power thrumming through their connection. They moved with greater coordination, struck with more precision, and seemed almost eager for combat despite their lack of true sentience.
Selena walked beside him, her crimson eyes scanning the ruins with predatory focus. "They're already here," she said quietly. "I can sense at least fifteen living presences inside and around the tower. More than the agreed-upon ten."
Lucas's hand moved to the Frost Blade's hilt. "Treachery?"
"Possibly. Or simple caution." Selena tilted her head, listening to something Lucas couldn't hear. "They're nervous. Heartbeats elevated, breathing irregular. Whatever else they might be, they're not confident about this meeting."
That was something, at least. Nervous people made mistakes, but they were also less likely to attempt obvious betrayals. Lucas gestured for his skeletons to hold position about fifty meters from the tower's entrance, then continued forward with only Selena beside him.
A figure emerged from the tower's shadowed doorway—a woman, tall and lean, dressed in leather armor that looked professionally made rather than cobbled together from starter equipment. She had sharp features, dark hair pulled back in a severe bun, and eyes that assessed Lucas with the same calculating coldness he himself employed.
[Elena Ashford - Level 9]
[Lord - Territory Level 3]
[Threat Assessment: Moderate]
Level nine. Three levels higher than Lucas, and her territory was a full level ahead of his as well. That suggested either better resource management, more aggressive expansion, or both.
"Lord Nightveil, I presume," Elena said, her voice carrying easily across the distance. She made no move to draw the sword at her hip, but her posture remained cautiously defensive. "Thank you for accepting my invitation. I wasn't certain you would."
"Your scouts made the meeting sound... worth investigating," Lucas replied, stopping about ten meters from her. Close enough to talk comfortably, far enough to react if things turned hostile. "Though I notice you brought more than ten escorts."
Elena's lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "As did you, technically. That woman beside you..." She looked at Selena, and Lucas saw her pupils dilate slightly. "She's not exactly a standard unit, is she?"
"Commander unit," Lucas said, offering no further explanation. "Shall we discuss why you wanted this meeting, or would you prefer to continue making observations about my forces?"
"Direct. I appreciate that." Elena gestured toward the tower's entrance. "I've set up a table inside. Nothing fancy, but somewhere we can talk properly. You can bring your vampire if it makes you feel safer."
Lucas exchanged a glance with Selena, who gave a minute shrug—her way of saying the situation seemed manageable. They followed Elena inside, leaving the skeleton warriors on alert outside.
The tower's interior had been cleared of debris and furnished with surprising efficiency. A wooden table stood in the center of what had once been the guard room, surrounded by chairs that looked recently constructed. Torches burned in wall sconces, providing warm light that contrasted sharply with the cold illumination of Lucas's Dark Crypt. And standing around the room's perimeter were Elena's escorts—not ten but fifteen, as Selena had sensed. A mix of human warriors in leather armor and what appeared to be trained militia, all better equipped than anything Lucas had seen from his own vassals.
"The extra escorts are insurance," Elena said, noting Lucas's expression. "I have enemies who might use a meeting like this as an opportunity for assassination. Better to be overcautious than dead."
"Fair enough," Lucas said, taking one of the offered seats. Selena remained standing behind him, her presence a subtle reminder of the power he brought to the table. "So. You mentioned an alliance."
Elena sat across from him and folded her hands on the table. "Not just an alliance. A coalition. Seven Lords, including myself, who've agreed to mutual defense and resource sharing. We call it the Eastern Compact." She pulled up an interface and shared a document—a formal treaty outlining terms, obligations, and benefits.
Lucas skimmed the document. It was comprehensive, covering everything from tribute percentages to military aid requirements to dispute resolution procedures. The terms were surprisingly fair—no single Lord dominated the agreement, and the resource sharing seemed designed to lift all members rather than concentrate power.
"This is well-constructed," Lucas admitted. "Professional, even. Who drafted it?"
"I did," Elena said with a hint of pride. "I was a contract lawyer before... all this. Seemed like relevant experience." She leaned forward slightly. "Look, Lord Nightveil, I'll be blunt. Most of the Lords in this region are going to die when the monster wave hits. They're unprepared, under-resourced, and too proud or too stupid to cooperate. The Eastern Compact is an attempt to prevent that. Pool our strength, share our knowledge, survive collectively."
"And what's to prevent one member from growing stronger than the others and simply conquering the rest?" Lucas asked. It was the obvious question, the one any pragmatic person would ask.
"Article Seven of the treaty," Elena replied immediately. "Any member who attacks another member is immediately expelled and becomes a valid target for collective action. Additionally, all members are required to maintain rough parity in military strength—no one can build an overwhelming force without the others noticing and responding."
Lucas read Article Seven. It was thorough, addressing most of the obvious loopholes. But not all of them.
"This limits growth," he observed. "If I can't build a significantly larger army than the others, I'm capped at a certain power level. That might ensure balance, but it also ensures mediocrity."
"It ensures survival," Elena countered. "Individual power is worthless if you're dead. The Eastern Compact provides security, shared resources, and collective defense. In exchange, you accept some limitations on expansion." She paused. "Though those limitations aren't as restrictive as you might think. The treaty allows for specialized development—one Lord focuses on military might, another on resource production, a third on magical research. Division of labor makes everyone stronger."
Selena leaned down and whispered in Lucas's ear, quiet enough that Elena couldn't hear. "She's not lying about the benefits. An alliance like this could be valuable, especially short-term. But the moment it stops serving your interests, you'll need to break it. Which means having an exit strategy before you even join."
Lucas nodded imperceptibly. Selena was right, as usual. The question wasn't whether this alliance was perfect—no alliance ever was. The question was whether the benefits outweighed the costs, and whether he could extract value before the inevitable collapse.
"Let me ask a different question," Lucas said. "What does the Eastern Compact gain from recruiting me specifically? You have seven members already. Why approach an eighth, especially one with a smaller territory and fewer resources than yourself?"
Elena's expression shifted, becoming more calculating. "Because you have something we don't. A legendary commander unit." She nodded toward Selena. "We've all seen the system announcements. Your achievements. Your rapid progression despite starting later than many of us. That vampire of yours is a force multiplier we can't replicate through conventional means."
"So you want access to Selena," Lucas said flatly.
"We want you, which includes access to her capabilities," Elena corrected. "The Eastern Compact shares military assets during crises. If one member is attacked, the others send aid. Your vampire would be part of that aid, just as my trained militia would support your territory if needed."
Lucas considered this. Sharing Selena's combat power in exchange for backup from multiple Lords wasn't a terrible trade, assuming the backup actually materialized when needed. But it also meant committing his most powerful asset to battles that weren't his own.
"I'll need to review the full treaty," he said finally. "Consult with my advisors. This isn't a decision I'll make impulsively."
"Of course," Elena agreed. "I wouldn't trust anyone who did." She pulled up another interface and sent him a complete copy of the treaty along with contact information. "Take three days. That's how long we have before the monster wave. If you want in, let me know before then. If not..." She shrugged. "Then you'll face the wave alone, and we'll see who survives."
The meeting concluded shortly after. Elena provided some additional information about the Compact's current members—their locations, specializations, general power levels—and then they parted ways with polite formality that masked underlying wariness on both sides.
As Lucas and Selena made their way back to the Dark Crypt with their skeleton escort, the vampire finally spoke her mind.
"That woman is dangerous," Selena said. "Not physically, perhaps—you could likely kill her in direct combat. But strategically. She thinks like a general, not a soldier. She's building a power structure that could dominate this region if given time."
"And if I join the Compact, I become part of that structure," Lucas said. "A cog in her machine."
"Potentially. Though you could also subvert it from within." Selena's smile was predatory. "Join the alliance, gain access to their resources and intelligence, learn their weaknesses. Then, when the time is right, break away and consume them piecemeal. They've built something strong, which means there's something valuable to steal."
Lucas was quiet for a moment, considering the options. The Eastern Compact offered genuine benefits—security, resources, shared knowledge. But it also imposed restrictions and created obligations. And as Selena noted, being part of someone else's system meant playing by their rules.
Unless he could change the rules from the inside.
"I'm going to join," he decided. "But on my terms. I'll negotiate some modifications to the treaty. Carve out exceptions that give me more operational freedom. And I'll make sure we have contingencies for when the alliance inevitably fractures."
"Now that," Selena said with obvious satisfaction, "sounds like the ruthlessly ambitious Lord I chose to serve."
They returned to find the Dark Crypt in a state of heightened activity. David Chen was waiting at the gates with several other vassals, their expressions anxious.
"Lord Nightveil, we have a situation," David said immediately. "One of our consolidated positions was probed by something during your absence. Not attacked fully, but tested. Whatever it was retreated when we mounted a defense, but..."
"But it was intelligent enough to probe rather than simply assault," Lucas finished. "Which means it was scouting."
"Exactly." David pulled up a shared interface showing casualty reports. "We lost four defenders—three of ours and one of your skeleton patrols. The creature killed them quickly, then vanished back into the fog before we could mount a proper response."
Lucas examined the reports. The attack pattern was methodical, focused on identifying weak points rather than causing maximum damage. This wasn't a random monster encounter. This was reconnaissance.
"Description of the creature?"
"Witnesses said it was humanoid but wrong. Proportions off, movements unnatural. Covered in what looked like shadows or smoke." David hesitated. "One person said it looked similar to that thing you fought before. The flesh amalgam."
Lucas's blood ran cold. A shadow devourer or something like it, scouting his vassal positions. That suggested either incredible bad luck or deliberate targeting. Neither option was comforting.
"Double the guards at both consolidated positions," he ordered. "Rotate my skeleton warriors through patrol duties so there's always at least five at each location. And if that thing comes back, don't engage—retreat to the inner defenses and send for reinforcement immediately."
David nodded and hurried off to implement the orders. Lucas watched him go, then turned to Selena.
"That's not random," he said quietly. "Something's watching us. Something intelligent."
"Yes," Selena agreed, her expression grim. "The question is whether it's connected to the monster wave or something else entirely." She looked toward the northeast, in the direction of Ashenhall's ruins. "That city we raided—it's a nexus of death energy. By claiming the Shard, we may have drawn attention from things that consider those ruins their territory."
"You're saying we might have started a war without realizing it."
"I'm saying," Selena corrected, "that we may have announced our presence to powers that were previously unaware of us. Whether that becomes a war depends on what they do next."
Lucas felt the weight of command settling more heavily on his shoulders. He'd made progress—gained vassals, acquired powerful artifacts, built a respectable army. But each advancement seemed to bring new complications, new threats, new variables he couldn't fully control.
The monster wave was three days away. The Eastern Compact wanted his answer. Something was scouting his positions with disturbing intelligence. And somewhere out there in the fog-shrouded wasteland, other Lords were making their own moves, building their own power bases, preparing for whatever apocalypse the system had planned.
Lucas returned to his command chamber and pulled up the treaty Elena had sent. He read it thoroughly this time, noting every clause, every exception, every potential advantage and liability.
By dawn, he'd composed his response—a counter-proposal that accepted membership in the Eastern Compact but carved out specific exceptions for his operations. More autonomy in military decisions. Reduced tribute requirements in exchange for frontline positioning during joint operations. And a clause allowing him to maintain "specialized assets"—meaning Selena—under his exclusive command except in extreme emergencies.
It was bold, possibly too bold. Elena might reject the modifications entirely. But Lucas hadn't survived this long by accepting the first offer presented. If the Compact wanted him, they'd accept reasonable negotiations. If they didn't, then he'd know where he truly stood.
He sent the counter-proposal through the system interface, then turned his attention to more immediate concerns. His territory needed fortification. His forces needed expansion. His vassals needed better equipment and training.
And somewhere out there, something was watching him with inhuman patience, waiting for the moment to strike.
Three days until the monster wave. Three days to prepare for whatever hell the system had planned.
Lucas settled into his command chair and began issuing orders.
Time to get to work.