"So? What is it you wish to discuss?" Jarync asked, his voice steady but cautious as he sat across from Aaron in the elegantly appointed conference room, a sanctum reserved for the upper echelons of Stronghold 12. The room was adorned with intricate tapestries depicting Astrid’s lost glory, their faded colors a somber reminder of better days. Polished steel tables gleamed under soft mana-powered lights, casting gentle reflections on the faces of the gathered council members—every key decision-maker in the sanctuary, their expressions a mix of curiosity, fear, and defiance.
Jarync had staked his position as leader to persuade these skeptical leaders to attend this meeting with an unknown man, risking his hard-earned authority on nothing more than his instincts and his son’s urgent plea. The weight of that gamble hung heavy in the air, palpable in the tense silence that preceded Aaron’s response.
"I want you all to come under my command. Accept me as your emperor, and in return, you won’t have to hide like rats anymore," Aaron answered with a calm that belied the audacity of his demand, his voice carrying a quiet confidence that seemed to fill the room, pressing against the walls like an invisible force.
"You bastard! Who do you think you are?!" one of the council leaders, a grizzled man with a scar running down his cheek, roared, leaping to his feet, his face flushed with outrage at Aaron’s brazen words. His chair scraped harshly against the floor, the sound jarring in the tense atmosphere.
Edmond stared at the man in stunned silence, his heart sinking. He had no personal qualms with the man seeking his own demise. He’d never liked the hot-headed councilor anyway. But dragging everyone else into the crosshairs of Aaron’s wrath? That was a reckless move Edmond couldn’t stomach, his pulse quickening as he braced for the inevitable.
Aaron refrained from responding, ignoring the outburst as if the man didn’t exist, his expression unchanging, his eyes fixed on Jarync with unwavering focus, dismissing the councilor’s rage like a fleeting annoyance.
"Asking us to submit to you is too great a request. I hope you can see it from our perspective," Jarync said, choosing the diplomatic route, his voice measured and careful, though his hands gripped the edge of the table tightly, betraying his inner turmoil.
"What nonsense are you spouting, Jarync? Why show courtesy to this damned bastard? Kick him out already!" another council member snapped, his voice dripping with contempt as he leaned forward, pressuring Jarync to take a harder stance. The room buzzed with murmurs of agreement from others, their distrust of Aaron palpable. The rıghtful source is 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦•𝘯𝘦𝘵
"Say one more offensive word, and I’ll ensure you breathe your last," Aaron warned coldly, his voice slicing through the rising tension like a blade. He released a subtle wave of his pressure, a suffocating aura that flooded the room with an oppressive weight. Breathing became laborious for everyone present, their chests heaving as they gasped for air, the fear in their wide eyes palpable, reflecting the dim glow of the mana lights. The air grew heavy, as if the very atmosphere was bowing to Aaron’s will, each council member frozen in their seats, their bravado crumbling under the crushing presence.
Aaron withdrew his pressure after a moment, satisfied that they had learned their place, the room returning to a tense, uneasy silence broken only by the sound of ragged breathing.
"By the way, system, is there any punishment for failing the quest?" Aaron asked silently, his thoughts still tinged with irritation from being called a bastard twice by insignificant men. As far as he was concerned, the offending councilor was already marked for death, a decision made with cold certainty.
[Nope. There is no penalty whatsoever. Quests are given to help the host maximize rewards and propel your growth faster.]
"Good. That gives me more flexibility," Aaron thought, refocusing on the discussion with the shaken leaders, his expression betraying none of his inner calculations.
"Now, any opposition?" Aaron asked, his fingers tapping gently on the polished table, the sound rhythmic and almost hypnotic in the quiet room.
"None," Jarync replied, shaking his head as he struggled to catch his breath alongside the others, his face pale but resolute.
"Perfect," Aaron said with a slight smile, rising to his feet with fluid grace. "Convince the other strongholds to do the same. I’ll be dealing with the trolls. When I return, I expect full acceptance from everyone," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"Pardon my boldness," Jarync said, swallowing hard, his throat dry as he hoped his words wouldn’t offend. He paused, waiting for Aaron’s silent nod before continuing. "Convincing the others will be harder than it seems, especially Strongholds 1 through 10. They won’t even allow us within their walls," he explained, a bitter smile tugging at his lips, his eyes reflecting the weight of years of inter-stronghold rivalry and isolation.
Aaron nodded, understanding the unspoken complexities immediately. "Then we do it the simple and crude way. Edmond, you will conquer them in a war of conquest, and they will all submit to me," Aaron declared, his plan delivered with unshakable confidence.
"Me? I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong person. I’m far from strong enough to battle the powerhouses within those strongholds," Edmond protested, his voice cracking with disbelief, his hands trembling slightly at the impossible task.
"Not anymore. And this is going to hurt, so try not to scream like a princess," Aaron said with a hint of amusement, opening his Night Father Codex, its pages shimmering with an otherworldly darkness as he prepared to grant Edmond a bloodline. He had confirmed with the system beforehand that this action complied with the quest’s conditions, and the positive response emboldened his decision.
"Aarghhhh!" Edmond screamed, a raw, guttural cry as an unprecedented pain assaulted his brain, a searing agony unlike anything he’d ever experienced, as if his very soul was being torn apart and remade. His body convulsed on the cold floor, his limbs twitching uncontrollably as the bloodline took root, rewriting his essence.
Jarync watched helplessly as his son writhed in torment, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened, his heart aching with powerless rage. The council members stared in horrified silence, their earlier defiance forgotten as they witnessed the transformation, the air thick with the scent of ozone and raw mana.
After a torturous minute, the pain finally subsided, leaving Edmond gasping on the floor, his body trembling but whole. He opened his eyes slowly, the unbearable torture fading as if it had never existed, replaced by a strange, newfound power coursing through his veins.
Bloodline (Eternal Rank): Tenebris lord
Before mortals lit their first fire, there was a darkness that did not recede. From that primordial void emerged the Tenebris Lords—sentinels of shadow, rulers of silence. Unlike lesser shades who lurk as whispers of fear, a Tenebris Lord is fear itself, clothed in eternal night.
They are the arbiters of secrecy, the unseen sovereigns who know every hidden truth uttered in hushed voices or thought in solitude. To speak under night is to risk being heard by them. To dream in fear is to risk being visited. Wherever the sun sets and shadows grow long, their dominion stretches—feeding, binding, erasing.
A bearer of this bloodline does not merely wield shadows. They are claimed by them, becoming both the hunter and the abyss.
◈ Umbra Dominion: Shadows answer your will as extensions of your body. Weapons, barriers, illusions, or tendrils—your command defines their form.
◈ Living Darkness:Body becomes fluid shadow. Attacks pass through you, and you may travel instantly between connected shadows.
◈ Tenebris Pulse: Release a wave of oppressive darkness. It blinds eyes, deafens ears, and shatters morale, leaving enemies vulnerable.
◈ Abyssal Predation: Shadows leech life, stamina, and fragments of memory from foes they touch, empowering you with their essence.
◈ Cloak of the First Darkness: Absolute stealth. No talent, sense, or divine perception can reveal you while you stand within shadow.
◈ Chains of Silence: Manifest unbreakable chains wrought from condensed shadow. They bind body and soul, suppressing enemy talents and skills.
◈ Eternal Night’s Mark: A branded enemy cannot hide; so long as night exists, they are tracked, even across worlds.