Lucas Nightveil woke with a faint smile on his face.
A field of bones stretched endlessly around him, brimstone skulls staring blankly into the dark sky.
The scent of dried blood and death filled the air—a perfume that made his blood tingle with delight. His fingers brushed the fragile ribs beneath him, feeling the familiar texture of death.
Perfect for rebirth.
He rose with the graceful movements of a predator, memories of the past flashing for a moment—twenty-eight years as Lucas Hartanto, the dutiful accountant, the docile sheep. The man was dead. Thank goodness.
A translucent blue screen appeared in front of him, its light dancing across the scattered bones:
[WELCOME TO THE GLOBAL LORD REALM]
[8 BILLION HUMANS HAVE BEEN SELECTED FOR ASCENSION]
[PREVIOUS EXISTENCE HAS BEEN TERMINATED]
[REBIRTH PROTOCOL ACTIVATED]
Lucas studied the interface with the cold calculation of a dissecter examining a corpse. His fingers trembled in anticipation as new text appeared:
[SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE]
[LORD: LUCAS NIGHTVEIL]
[LEVEL: 1]
[STRENGTH: 12]
[AGILITY: 15]
[CONSTITUTION: 10]
[INTELLIGENCE: 18]
[CHARISM: 8]
[LUCK: 2]
[TRAITS: PREDATOR'S INSTINK, TACTICAL GENIUS, BLOODLIST]
His eyes lingered on the traits with savage satisfaction. The System had seen through his mask, recognized what he truly was beneath the veneer of social conditioning. A hunter. A killer. A lord of war.
[EARLY MISSION: SURVIVE 72 HOURS]
[SECONDARY OBJECTIVE: ESTABLISH DOMINATION]
[FAILURE CONDITION: PERMANENT DEATH]
Lucas threw back his head and laughed—a sound like shattering glass that sent the carrion birds flying from their perches on the scattered thigh bones. Permanent death? He had lived in permanent death for twenty-eight years. This was awakening.
Movement in the edge of his vision made him turn. Three figures emerged from the field of bones, their forms bent and savage. Human, but barely. Their clothes hung in tatters, revealing skin mottled with infection and starvation. Wild eyes stared at him with the mad desperation of the starving.
[ENEMY DETECTED: EXILE SCAVENGERS x3]
[LEVEL: 2-3]
[STATUS: MALTENORED, SICK, DESPERATE]
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: MINIMAL]
The largest of the three, a woman with matted hair and missing teeth, raised a rusty knife. "Fresh meat," she croaked. "Never seen fresh meat in—"
The words died as Lucas's smile widened, revealing teeth that looked too sharp in the red light. The scavengers hesitated, some primitive instinct warning them that the predator-prey dynamic had just been reversed.
"Please," Lucas said, his voice silk over steel. "Go on. I was just thinking about how boring this place is."
The woman snarled and charged. Lucas dodged with fluid movements, his hand closing around her wrist. The bones beneath his fingers snapped like twigs.
Her scream was music.
"Interesting," he murmured, examining the angle of his broken arm with clinical interest. "The system seems to have enhanced my physical abilities. I wonder…"
He twisted. Another snap. Another scream.
The other two scavengers backed away, terror replacing hunger in their eyes. Lucas released the woman, who collapsed to the ground, whimpering.
"Don't leave yet," he ordered, his voice carrying an authority that made them freeze. "We've only just begun."
What followed was an education in pain. Lucas moved between them like a dancer, each blow calculated for maximum pain without causing immediate death. He learned the limits of his refined body, the precision of his blows, the sweet spots that made them beg.
When he finally grew tired, all three lay broken but still breathing in the bone dust. Their eyes held the glassy gaze of men who had stared into the abyss and found him staring back.
"Listen well," Lucas said, kneeling beside the woman. "You will spread word of what has happened here. Tell every scavenger, every desperate soul who seeks a living in this wasteland: Lucas Nightveil has arrived. Tell them that mercy is a luxury I do not stock, but service… service I might consider."
He stood, patting the bone dust from his clothes. "Crawl away now. Before I decide this education session needs a final exam."
They fled on their hands and knees, leaving a trail of blood in the dirt.
[FIRST DOMINATION ACHIEVED]
[FEAR GENERATED: 47 POINTS]
[REPUTATION EARNED: CRUEL EFFICIENCY]
[TRAIT EVOLVED: PREDATOR INSTINK → APEX PREDATOR]
Lucas felt the change immediately—a sharpening of his senses, a predatory awareness that made the world seem clearer, more alive. Every sound became significant, every shadow a potential hiding place or hunting ground.
He began to walk, his steps purposeful if aimless. The System had assigned him territory somewhere in this realm, but first he needed to understand the rules of this new game.
The fields of bones stretched endlessly in every direction, broken only by the occasional skeleton of some great creature. A dragon, perhaps, or a giant. The remains of whatever civilization had once ruled here.
Soon, he thought, this will all be mine.
A structure rises from the barren plains ahead—a gaping entrance carved into the rocky outcrop, its edges adorned with ancient symbols that seem to writhe in the dim light.
[LAIR DETECTED: DARK CRYPT - RANK F]
[DANGER LEVEL: MEDIUM]
[ESTIMATED NUMBER OF ENEMIES: 12-15]
[POTENTIAL REWARDS: EQUIPMENT, EXPERIENCE, MINION RECRUITMENT]
[WARNING: BOSS ENTITY DETECTED]
Lucas' pulse quickened. Not from fear, but from anticipation. His first army awaited.
He descended into the crypt's embrace, the darkness welcoming him like an old friend. Ancient torches flickered as he approached, revealing corridors lined with sarcophagi and burial chambers. The air pulsed with evil energy.
Perfect.
The first skeletal warrior emerged from the alcove, rusty sword raised high. Lucas caught the blade with his bare hand, his enhanced grip crushing the ancient metal to powder. His other hand found the creature's skull, fingers exploring the delicate architecture of the bone.
"Magnificent," he whispered. "You will be an excellent addition to my army."
The skeleton's jaw clicked in what must have been confusion before Lucas' grip tightened. But instead of crushing it, he spoke—his voice carrying a new authority, a new power.
"Kneel."
The skeleton froze. Then, improbably, he lowered himself to one knee.
[DOMINATION ATTEMPT: SUCCESSFUL]
[UNDEAD MINION OBTAINED: SKELETON WARRIOR]
[DARK AFFINITY DISCOVERED]
[NECROMANTIC POTENTIAL UNLOCKED]
Lucas' laughter echoed through the crypt as more skeletons emerged from their resting places.
They moved with purpose now, not the mindless aggression of the undead, but the focused intent of soldiers who recognized their commander.
Within an hour, twelve skeleton warriors knelt before him in the crypt's central chamber. Their bone weapons glinted with new purpose, their empty sockets trained on their master with unwavering loyalty.
[FIRST UNIT ESTABLISHED: SKELETON VANGUARD]
[UNIT STRENGTH: 12]
[UNIT MORALE: ABSOLUTE]
[COMMANDER BONUS: +50% DAMAGE, +25% SPEED]
But the crypt's true prize still awaited. At the far end of the chamber, a massive sarcophagus dominated the space. Ancient runes covered its surface, pulsing with a sinister energy that made Lucas's skin tingle with anticipation.
As he approached, the lid began to slide open with the grinding of stone on stone. A figure rose from within—tall, armored, with eyes like burning embers. A death knight, his presence exuding a power that made lesser skeletons crawl.
[BOSS ENTITY: CRYPT GUARDIAN]
[LEVEL: 15]
[ABILITIES: DEATH AURA, SOUL DRAIN, COMMAND UNDEAD]
[WARNING: EXTREMELY DANGEROUS]
The death knight's gaze fell on Lucas, and for a moment, predator met predator. Then something unexpected happened—the ancient warrior's eyes flashed with recognition. Not of Lucas specifically, but of what he represented.
"You bear the mark," the death knight spoke, his voice like grinding tombstone. "The blood of conquerors flows in your veins."
Lucas stepped forward, unafraid. "I am Lucas Nightveil. And you shall serve me."
The death knight studied him for a long moment, then raised his greatsword—not in attack, but in salute.
"My lord," he called. "The Crypt Guard awaits your command."
[LEGENDARY DOMINATION ACHIEVED]
[BOSS UNIT OBTAINED: DEATH KNIGHT COMMANDER]
[ARMY FOUNDED: THE NIGHTVEIL LEGION]
[BONUS TERRITORY UNLOCKED: CRYPT OF ETERNAL SERVITUDE]
Lucas felt power flow through him as the system recognized his achievement. His first territory, his first army, his first step toward absolute domination.
But as he rejoiced in victory, a new notification appeared—one that made his blood run cold with joy rather than fear:
[URGENT: RIVAL LORD DETECTED]
[DISTANCE: 2.3 KILOMETERS]
[TROOP STRENGTH: 23 UNITS]
[APPROACHING YOUR TERRITORY]
[ESTIMATED ARRIVAL: 6 HOURS]
[INTENTIONS: HOSTILE]
Lucas' smile was a terrible thing to behold. His fingers traced the pommel of the sword that had appeared at his side—a lord's weapon, the dark metal seemingly drinking in the light.
"It seems," he said to his assembled troops, "someone wishes to test the might of the Nightveil Legion."
The death knight turned toward the crypt entrance, his supernatural senses detecting an approaching threat. "Should we prepare a defense, my lord?"
Lucas's laugh was soft, dangerous. "Defense? My dear Commander, you have misunderstood."
He moved toward the crypt entrance, his skeletal warriors falling into formation behind him. The death knight followed, his heavy footsteps echoing like funeral drums.
"We do not defend," Lucas said, his voice carrying the promise of violence. "We hunt."