Word of the slaughtered patrol spread like wildfire. Eldoria's forces mobilized, assuming a Valthor incursion. Alex, now hiding in the forests, watched as armies clashed on the plains below. Catapults hurled stones, arrows darkened the sky, and swords clanged in a symphony of death.
The system pinged: [Opportunity detected: Join the fray to harvest souls.]
He couldn't resist. Sneaking down, Alex ambushed a squad of Eldorian archers from behind. His enhanced strength made quick work of them—one slash severed a bowstring and the archer's arm, another pierced through chainmail.
[Enemies slain: 3. +3 to all stats. Kill Count: 8]
With each kill, he grew. By the battle's end, he'd felled a dozen more, his level hitting 3, mana unlocking a simple spell: [Energy Bolt], a crackling projectile that downed foes from afar.
But the kingdoms were vast. Eldoria and Valthor weren't the only players—there was the iron-fisted Empire of Drakon to the north and the cunning Alliance of Thorne to the south. Alex realized he couldn't hide forever; he needed allies.
In a nearby village razed by the war, he found survivors: farmers, blacksmiths, orphaned warriors. "Follow me," he said, demonstrating his power by shattering a boulder with a single punch. "I'll protect you, and together, we'll carve out our own kingdom."
They were skeptical, but when Eldorian scouts attacked, Alex decimated them single-handedly.
[Enemies slain: 5. +5 to all stats. Kill Count: 25]
The villagers joined him, forming the nucleus of his force. He named them the Revenant Legion—rising from the dead of war.