They came not as messengers.
But as executioners.
The Coalition had been formed. Five noble Lords. Five legacies of blood and system. Five names Reed had already carved into his memory:
Lord Hadren Thorne, the silver heir with a Hero of legend.
Lord Kheldrin of the Ivory Flame, fanatic and purifier.
Lady Marseth of Halspire, poison queen and corpse collector.
Lord Vesrick, merchant of blades and betrayal.
Lord Helcran of Blackspire, silent, cruel, and always watching.
Together, they brought nearly four hundred soldiers, twenty Heroes, and something worse—permission.
Permission to destroy a rogue domain.
The first signal came from the Council of Shadows.
A raven arrived at Reed's War Altar with its own eyes sewn shut, throat cut, message carved into its wing.
"The noose tightens. They come not to judge, but to burn. Prepare your pyre or turn it into theirs."
Shia read the message aloud, then let it burn.
Reed stood in silence for a long moment.
Then: "We hold. We kill. We make the system bleed."
Goblin's Hollow had never been a fortress. It had been a grave.
Now, it would be a war machine.
Reed summoned every unit. Every able body. Every whispering goblin and Hollowbound beast.
He stood at the highest ridge as the blood-haze settled in the air.
"We are not prey," he roared.
"We are the thing that hunts in the fog. And today, we drown kings in their own gold."
The goblins screamed his name.
The Spine Units began laying traps — not simple spikes, but glyph-bombs bound to Umberglass veins. Anyone who stepped wrong would dissolve from the inside.
The Fang Units disappeared into the trees, instructed to scalp, poison, and bleed the enemy in their sleep.
The Maw Units reinforced the War Altar's defenses with bone walls and corpse barricades. Every dead knight became mortar.
Reed activated the System:
[Construction: FLESH TRENCHES] — Unlocked via Bloodcode Trigger
Description: Defensive canals pulsing with regenerative corruption. Heals friendly units. Weakens invaders. Requires blood to activate.
Cost: 250 EXP
He confirmed without hesitation.
The ground split like old skin. Black-red trenches opened around the Hollow, pulsing.
Reed fed them with the blood of the dead.
Reed reached into the Shadowmark ring and spoke words not meant to be spoken.
Three hours later, the sky above the Hollow cracked.
Lord Maul of Ashendusk arrived with a legion of bog fiends and fungal witches, dripping rot and curse-oil.
"You still breathing, Reed?" Maul rasped.
"Barely," Reed said. "But not for long if we fail."
Maul grinned. "Then let's drag them into the swamp with us."
Reed, Shia, Maul, and three trusted goblin war-leaders met around the burning War Altar.
They drew plans in blood.
The southern pass would be baited — rigged to collapse and crush.
The northern ridge would house the Hollowspawn pits.
Maul's bog witches would infect the eastern trails with madness spores.
The western path would be the kill box — where Reed would wait in the open.
"They'll want me visible," he said.
"They want your head," Maul replied.
"Then I'll make them reach for it. And bite off their fingers."
Shia no longer slept. She simply stood by Reed's side, a shadow wrapped in silence.
She'd killed a dozen would-be infiltrators the night before — none of them made a sound before dying.
Her new power was unstable.
But she wasn't.
Reed looked at her and said, "If I fall—"
"You won't."
"But if I do—"
"I'll make sure none of them leave."
He touched her cheek. She didn't flinch.
"You're not my weapon anymore," he said. "You're the reason I win."
[DOMAIN STATUS: GOBLIN'S HOLLOW]
Rank: E++ (Rogue Tier – Ascending)
Morale: Blood-Euphoric
Structures: War Altar, Flesh Trenches, Bone Walls, Umberglass Mines
Invasion Detected
Enemy Lords: 5
Estimated Forces: 387
Status: En Route – ETA 2 HOURS
Command Options:
– Activate Hollowspawn Alpha Protocol
– Open Black Root Seals (Warning: High Corruption Risk)
– Sacrifice for Domain Buff (Locked: Requires 100 Goblins)
Reed hovered his hand over the Alpha Protocol.
Not yet.
He wanted them close.
The first siege horns blew in the distance.
Then, the trees caught fire.
Arrows dipped in white flame rained down on the outer perimeter.
A scout sprinted through the mud, coughing blood.
"They've arrived," he gasped. "Knights. Pyromancers. Even the dead walk. Lady Marseth's brought the Reclaimed."
Reed stood at the ridge.
The War Altar pulsed.
Behind him, the Black Root surged with new heat.
The sky split open.
And Lord Hadren appeared at the tree line — mounted on his white stag, eyes glowing silver, a halo of vines crowning his head.
He pointed his blade forward.
And the Hollow answered with a scream.