The palace of Valarion, ruler of the Severed Dawn Empire, loomed over the landscape, a monument of black stone and gilded accents that towered like a testament to his unstoppable ambition. The very foundations of the palace were steeped in the energies of his conquests—ancient weapons, forbidden relics, and trophies from his home world that he had crushed beneath his heel adorned its halls.
Valarion sat upon his throne, a throne that had been shaped from the bones of massive beasts that once roamed the stars, their ancient forms now reduced to symbols of his rise. His eyes, cold and calculating, gazed across the room, taking in the reports being delivered by his generals. The throne room was vast, filled with ornate banners depicting his insignia—the Blood Eclipse, a symbol that had spread to every inch of this world.
The air was thick with power. At the young age of 50 he was an Emperor and an Ascendant Core cultivator. Now his reign was truly beginning.
At his side stood two women—his wives, both just as unrelenting as he was, their auras radiating the same strength.
Ishara, his first wife, was a dark-haired beauty draped in obsidian robes, her eyes burning with ambition that matched his own. She had been with him since the start of his conquest, aiding in the planning and execution of each continent he claimed.
Sylvia, his second wife, had platinum-blonde hair that glimmered under the pale light. A calm yet fierce warrior, Sylvia's knowledge of cultivation arts had helped Valarion grow exponentially, pushing him toward the higher reaches of the Ascendant Core. Her intellect was unparalleled, and she was the strategist behind their war plans.
Beside him, Varian, his closest companion and confidant, stood. Varian was not just a friend, but a partner in every battle, the one who had helped Valarion attain the power he now wielded. Though a few years younger than the others, his insight into cultivation and battle made him invaluable. His heightened senses and ability to detect fluctuations in energy made him the perfect ally for Valarion's ascent.
As the assembly of generals and elite officers gathered, Valarion's voice, as cold and calculating as the void, broke the silence.
"Report," he commanded.
One of the generals stepped forward, kneeling before him. "My lord, the conquest of the Ozera Continent has been successful. The resources from the continent are now ours. We have begun the process of plantary subjugations.
Valarion nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Good. But we need more. The Galaxy is vast, and we are but a speck of dust in it. It is time to expand."
The generals exchanged glances. They had all seen the horrors Valarion had unleashed upon their enemies. Entire kingdoms, continents, and even secret realms were bent under his will, and each conquest made him stronger. The Ascendant Core realm was nothing compared to what awaited him.
"By the time I'm finished," Valarion continued, his eyes turning to his wives, "this entire galaxy will be under our control. And then, we move beyond. The universe awaits."
Ishara, with a look of dark pride, added, "And the entity you serve will not be disappointed."
Varian stood silently, watching the proceedings. His loyalty to Valarion was unwavering, yet a part of him understood that the deeper their influence reached, the more danger they attracted. But there was no turning back. Not now. Not with the plans they had in motion.
Valarion's rise wasn't just the result of his strength or intellect. He had made a pact with an entity from a higher plane—an ancient being that had bestowed upon him powers beyond comprehension. In return, Valarion had pledged to expand his dominion, to subjugate worlds and conquer civilizations in the name of his master.
Valarion was a Champion, a servant of a higher being, but unlike most, he had the autonomy to shape his own destiny. The entity had provided him with the ability to become more and achieve things he had always seen in legends. In exchange, Valarion would lead the charge to bring all worlds under the entity's sway.
Valarion's closest allies, his wives, and Varian, were not mere subjects. They were partners in conquest. Each of them had received blessings of their own, gifts from the entity that amplified their abilities. Together, they were a force no one could stand against.
----
Meanwhile, back on Earth, a week passed quietly after Solace stepped into the Ascendant core realm. His name was growing as a blacksmith as well. His echo had been completing orders every day since the auction ended. Not only that whispers of the Faceless Assassin had reached the Human Kingdoms, and now the time had come to solidify his influence.
Solace sat at a table across from Princess Elara, who had come to discuss the terms of their deal. The flickering glow of enchanted candles illuminated the room, casting long shadows against the walls of the manor.
Elara cleared her throat, her expression serious. "So, we are clear, Solace. You will provide 50,000 weapons each year to Ithmar, and in return, I will ensure you access to any knowledge you desire."
Solace leaned back, his gaze penetrating but not threatening. "That sounds more than fair. But don't forget to spread my name around like a wildfire.
Aetheria, who stood nearby, nodded slightly. She had already sensed the impending change, her quiet vigilance never faltering.
"Of course," Elara replied, still holding her royal composure. "We've already discussed your vision, Solace."
"Good," he replied, his voice smooth, like silk slipping through fingers. "Then, consider this my first step toward my next goal."
---
The night air was cold as Solace emerged from the shadows, his faceless mask concealing his identity. Ithmar had been warned—he was the one who would take the kingdom, and there would be no room for debate.
The palace, an imposing structure of marble and stone, loomed before him as he approached. The guards were unaware; their senses dulled to his presence. Solace moved through them like a phantom, every step calculated, every moment deliberate.
Inside the royal throne room, King Thalan sat, a weary ruler burdened by the politics and strife of his kingdom. He had heard the whispers of the Faceless Assassin, but like many others, he dismissed them as rumors—until now.
Solace stepped from the shadows, his presence like a crushing weight on the room. His voice echoed as if from everywhere at once.
"So, you're the King of this kingdom?" Solace's voice was cold, calm, but with an undercurrent of power that chilled the air. "I have come to offer you a choice."
King Thalan's eyes widened in surprise and defiance. He rose from his throne, his hand instinctively reaching for the sword at his side.
"W-2ho are you?" Thalan demanded. "What is it you want?"
Solace smiled behind his mask.
"I want this kingdom," he said simply. "You'll remain King, but you will be under my rule. You see, it's you won't be the only one.... just the first of many."
The King, shaking with indignation, took a step forward.
"I will not bow to a shadow!" he spat.
Solace's expression remained unmoved.
"Your kingdom will be mine. You will be allowed to rule, but the throne will be mine. And you will answer to me."
King Thalan opened his mouth to protest, but Solace raised a hand. His Divine Sense expanded, reaching deep into the palace. The room seemed to shudder under the force of it.
"Ah," Solace mused, his eyes narrowing. "Two of them, huh?"
In an instant, he vanished.
The Ancestors of Ithmar, both Ascendant Core cultivators, were found in their chambers, expecting nothing more than the usual. But they were no match for the Faceless Assassin. Within seconds, their bodies were broken and shattered, their powers reduced to nothing.
Solace reappeared before the King,
THUD
THUD
He threw out two battered bodies who King Thalan immediately recognized.
Solace spoke and his calm demeanor unchanged.
"Like I said," Solace spoke, his tone cool and final. "This kingdom will be mine."
Thalan's knees buckled as the realization hit. Solace had crushed two of the kingdom's most powerful warriors as if they were mere insects. There was nothing he could do.
Solace's voice was smooth.
"You'll remain King. But I will be Emperor, and don't worry the other three kingdoms will fall in line soon enough."
Without another word, Solace disappeared, leaving the King to contemplate the new world he now lived in.
The night carried on, but the palace had fallen silent. Solace's Abyssal Eyes of Infinity flared to life once more, and he saw the corrupt, the deceitful, the ones who fed on the kingdom's lifeblood. They would not be allowed to live.
One by one, the corrupt officials of Ithmar were eliminated in the span of a single night, their intentions laid bare before Solace's piercing gaze.
As dawn broke, the Faceless Assassin had claimed his kingdom.