The sky never truly healed.
Even after the violet rift closed, its scars lingered—like burn marks across the clouds. The land was quiet, yes. But it was not peace. It was aftermath. The kind that simmers.
Reed stood at the edge of the new border, boots pressing into soil that had never belonged to him before. Goblin's Hollow was no longer a hidden trench—it was a dominion. His dominion.
> DOMAIN MAP EXPANDED
> NEW RESOURCES UNLOCKED: IRONWOOD GROVES / WRAITHMARSH / SUNKEN BARRACKS
> POPULATION: 478 (Mixed)
The System's clean numbers meant nothing without context.
Among the 478 were scavengers, deserters, surviving peasants from burned villages, slaves freed during the chaos, and remnants of the coalition's vassals. All of them now under his rule.
Shia stood beside him, leaning heavily on a gnarled walking stick made of Hollowspawn chitin. Her body was still recovering, but her mind remained sharp. "They don't know what you are. Yet."
"They'll find out soon enough."
The first decree was survival.
Reed assembled the able-bodied and divided them into task groups: gatherers, builders, watchers. Those who questioned his authority were given a simple choice: contribute or be cast outside the boundary wards—where Hollowspawn still hunted.
Some ran. Most stayed.
Within three days, they had the beginnings of a crude fortress using blackstone remnants and spiked palisades carved from Ironwood. Goblin engineers and reclaimed Reclaimed soldiers worked side by side—grudgingly, but effectively.
One human woman, a former scribe, approached him with a ledger. "I've compiled census data. Most don't know your name, only that you killed a god and burned three lords alive."
"Let them keep saying that," Reed said.
She hesitated. "They're scared of you."
"Good."
By the end of the week, Reed had implemented ration codes, labor rotations, and a punishment structure based on contribution. It was harsh—but not cruel. He remembered what it was like to be at the mercy of someone with power and no purpose.
His rule would be absolute, but not empty.
Word spread beyond the Hollow.
From the east, spies whispered of towns abandoning allegiance to fallen lords, unsure who to swear fealty to now. Some sent emissaries. Some sent assassins.
He welcomed both.
The emissaries were bound by blood contract to his cause. The assassins were fed to the Hollowspawn pit beneath the altar's ruins.
Shia watched him change.
"You're building a kingdom of bones," she said.
Reed didn't answer.
Two weeks after the battle, he stood before a tribunal of the surviving heroes: a rogue knight named Dren, a blind fang-chanter called Kivra, and a mindspore-touched woman whose name had been erased from her own memory.
They knelt.
"We will serve until the domain burns."
He accepted their vow, then branded each of them with a shard of the glyph burned into his own chest. Loyalty through pain. Unity through purpose.
The System responded:
> SUB-DOMAIN STRUCTURE ENABLED
> TITLES GRANTED: KNIGHT-BINDER / SHADOW-CHANTER / LOST HERALD
Reed's influence was no longer theory. It was structure.
At night, he met Shia atop the blackened hill that overlooked the Hollow.
"The ground's quieter," she said.
"It's waiting."
She studied him. "And you?"
"I'm done waiting."
The stars above them shimmered unnaturally.
She noticed too. "That's not right."
A ripple passed through the constellations. For a second, every star flickered—blinking in unison, as if acknowledging something.
The System chimed.
> WARNING: OBSERVER PROTOCOLS BREACHED
> NOTICE: HIGHER ENTITY // DESIGNATION: LUCENT COURT // EYES OPENED
Shia's face paled. "They're watching you now."
Reed smiled slowly, the branded glyph glowing faintly through his shirt.
"Let them watch."
Thunder rolled over the horizon.