Chapter 37: Chapter 37: Conquest
The Eternal Empire's march was relentless. As the sun set, its once calming descent over the Kingdom of Serathel now served as a haunting backdrop for devastation. The duel between General Lysar and Serathel's Knight Grandmaster Eldor was nothing short of epic. With every spell, structures crumbled and fires blazed. Lysar, with a final burst of power, bested Eldor, leading to the Knight Grandmaster's plunge into the chasm below.
Simultaneously, to the east, Arland's defenses were torn asunder. General Atrius, alongside Draven, Selon, Brevik, and Tharn, rendered the city's fortifications useless. The once-impenetrable capital was left in ruins. Draven, with an air of satisfaction, silenced Arland's renowned Arcane Scholar, ensuring the Empire's superiority.
Veleria, the southern jewel, didn't fare any better. Its walls, symbols of its strength, were breached under Tharn's assault. The streets echoed with cries of despair as the pitch-black flag, adorned with a red phoenix, was hoisted above the city.
In the dusky aftermath of the devastating conquest, Draven arrogantly displayed a chained Princess Octavia of Veleria before Lucius. Her radiant golden locks flowed like molten gold, and her mesmerizing green eyes, heavy with tears, sparkled with both sorrow and an undying spirit. "Emperor," he pronounced with a predatory smirk, "Veleria's most prized possession. Untarnished, now a fleeting amusement for your royal pleasure."
Octavia, her luminous green eyes burning with an intense mixture of hatred and defiance, faced the man who had taken everything from her. "You've decimated my home, executed my father. Why am I still alive?"
Lucius, his gaze raking over her with a mix of cold appraisal and dark desire, stepped closer, his oppressive presence nearly suffocating her. "Your kingdom and your throne were objectives. You, however, are a delightful bonus — a symbol of my victory."
With a voice filled with loathing, yet undeniably sultry, she snapped, "You might have overpowered Veleria, but my spirit will always remain unconquered."
His hand reached out, fingers skimming her cheek, sending unexpected shivers through her. "Your spirit intrigues me, Princess. I've crushed many, but yours... it promises to be a more exhilarating challenge."
She recoiled from his touch, her breathing uneven. "You may have me in chains, but I will never bow to you."
He leaned in, the warmth of his breath contrasting the coldness of his words. "The night is long, and resistance can be... intoxicating."
The atmosphere was thick with tension, a blend of animosity and undeniable attraction. As dawn approached, Lucius departed from the chamber, leaving behind Octavia, her radiant beauty intact but her eyes brimming with tears of rage, humiliation, and an unyielding determination to resist.
Later, in the grand hall, Atrius and Aleron presented their reports. "Emperor, Arland has been integrated into the Empire. Their reserves will fuel our next endeavors," Atrius reported.
Aleron added, "Serathel's territories now bear our flag. Their resources are immense, ensuring our dominance for eons."
Lucius, nodding in acknowledgment, remarked, "Prepare for the next phase. This continent was but a stepping stone."
Minister Crone then stepped forward, revealing a massive blueprint. "Emperor, behold our future – a fleet of colossal metal warships. Our engineers assure their completion within six months. With these, no shore will be beyond our reach."
Atrius, in awe, stated, "With such might, the main continent won't stand a chance."
Lucius replied, "That's the intent. Once we have that, only then can I look beyond... to the Primordial Chaos."
All present exchanged confused glances, Minister Crone, simply bowed and said, "Your will shall be done, Emperor."
Lucius smirked, his thoughts veering to the realm of Primordial Chaos. The Eternal Empire was not his endgame. It was just the means to return to his origin and heal his broken soul. But for now, the mortal plane would dance to his tunes.
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