"Lord Ulric! Lord Ulric! Lord Ulric!" As ti slowly slipped by, the chants grew louder, slowly pulling him into a trance as he drifted into his thoughts
All of these... they were now under his command. He only snapped out of it when he sensed a pair of hands wrap around his waist tightly from behind as Lyra’s scent wafted into his nostrils.
Inhaling sharply, he waved his hand slightly. Instantly after, silence descended as the crowd slowly dispersed.
Tilting his gaze, he nodded slightly at the elders before him as they recognized the gesture.
It was ti. Greyson was to be laid at the clan’s sanctuary tomb, where all the great ancestors before him were also laid. The greatest honour any patriarch could ever be bestowed.
While he made his way down, followed by Lyra and so of the elders to inspect the full extent of the damage, and as he walked through the corpses, taking in the bloody carnage once more, his face couldn’t help but grimace as a realization slowly dawned on him.
There were no winners in war. Both sides had been greatly ravaged, suffering many losses.
He could see multiple familiar faces, including that of a girl, her na ringing at the back of his mind.
Lena. She was the one who had guided him through the Wolf Den dungeon, and now she lay dead, and so many more beside her.
The sight unsettled Lyra as she moved to
clench Ulric’s hand, squeezing tightly. She had seen blood and those who had fallen into death before, but the huge scale of everything made it all too ghastly.
Clenching his fingers tightly, Ulric rose to his feet, his fingers tightening as he heard the sound of shuffling feet behind him.
Where Rysten and another elder now stood, having sent them out to scout everything, he inquired about the report, his back towards them.
"How many are dead?"
A mont of silence descended as both swallowed audibly. Looking at the youth’s back, it couldn’t help but inspire awe within them. They didn’t know why, but the force of his presence seed to be stronger than even the previous lord.
But that didn’t matter now. Opening their mouths, the elder beside Rysten forced the words out as a grave expression lined his face.
"Hundreds upon hundreds are dead," he muttered, his face dropping to the ground. Their forces and resources had nearly been depleted.
Things did not look good at all. If another clan was to attack them while they were already down.
The thought caused him to tremble slightly before finally sputtering, "T-this is to be the end of our clan!"
Through his spiritual field, he could sense Rysten beside him slowly nodding as if in agreent.
All the other elders’ faces were troubled with the thought. Only Lyra seed to look at him with a flash of hope in her eyes.
But he dismissed everything, his gaze falling to the horizon, a thoughtful expression covering his face. If it were any other ti, their thoughts would have been justified. But this ti was different. This ti they had him by their side.
And as the thought ford, he slowly walked forward, feeling all the attention shift to him before he muttered,
"No, you are wrong. We will honour our fallen, rebuild ourselves at any cost, and extinguish those who thought they could destroy us. We are Greysons... and soon that na will invoke terror in all those who hear it."
Chills spread across everyone as his words echoed, before they nearly spat out a mouthful of blood.
The elder beside Rysten’s lips twitched rapidly, his mouth almost opening to voice what was circling at the back of every elder’s mind.
This was madness! But just before he did, Elder Rysten raised his hand to stop him before walking forward.
In him, Greyson had seen the future. And in him, they would trust. Having seen the dark-robed youth’s shocking feats repeatedly, this ti he chose to believe, pinning all his faith on him as he spoke.
"What should we do, lord?"
"Simple," Ulric breathed, slowly turning as his face ca to et Rysten’s. His crimson eyes glowing with a faint red hue.
"Relay my orders to all the clans and houses in Tempest City. They are to open their vaults, resources, and dungeons to us."
Hearing the words, Rysten’s eyes constricted violently, his heart thudding rapidly. If what he had said before was madness, he didn’t know what this was anymore. Still, no doubt surfaced across his face.
At the lord’s words, he could feel waves of adrenaline pump into him. Ulric was carving a path forward, and he would gladly follow it. All that remained was one thing, as he soon voiced it.
"What if they refuse?"
Breathing softly, the smile on Ulric’s face widened slowly. "Total... annihilation."
He had seen the cost of weakness. The Greysons had lived peacefully, and where had that led them? The answer was apparent.
The mont a flicker of weakness had appeared, it had drawn the Red Streaks like a pack of wolves drawn to blood. And with their condition, it would only draw more.
If strength was the only thing they feared, then so be it. They would learn to shudder under his might.
Scanning the rest of the elders, he asked, his voice growing cold, "Do any of you dare go against my will?"
As his voice echoed, a twinge of his aura leaked out, washing away any doubt they may have had as their heads shook rapidly.
"Good." Ulric smiled, but first it was ti for sothing important.
Fixing his eyes on the elders, he issued a set of commands, already executing his plan.
"Gather what remains of our forces. It is ti to show the world what happens to those who go against us."
Reverting his gaze, he looked back into the distance as the elders dispersed swiftly, leaving only Lyra behind.
He had already thought long and hard about this. He was weak, the clan was weak, and in dire strain.
What they needed were resources to fuel their growth and rebuild their forces. The fastest way to do that was through conquest, and this was just the beginning!
***
Elsewhere, back inside the Red Streaks clan, the guards left behind paced restlessly until one suddenly stopped, his gaze falling into the distance as he could see a cloud of darkness slowly forming.
Soon, the sound of rumbling echoed as the outline of an army ca into sight.
Causing murmurs to sweep across, before cheers erupted.
"Look, it’s Patriarch Orros. He’s making his way back!"
"Does that an he already laid waste to the Greyson clan? But it’s only been a few hours?"
"So what if it has? It seems they were only living in the shadow of their past greatness."
"Tsk. I knew it. Their patriarch wasn’t a C-rank being! They were just living under false pretenses."
"Hmm, you’re right. No one has been able to ascend to C-rank in Tempest City for the past few hundred years."
"Haha, yeah. The lord just called their bluff! They should have known to put a limit to their bragging!"
"Soon, the city will be ours for the taking. As soon as this news spreads, no one will dare ss with us anymore."
"I wonder what resources they plundered... I heard the won from the Greyson clan are quite... lovely."
"Shut up, you perverted bastard! But you’re right. Haha, tonight we celebrate!"
Just as the cheers grew louder, a figure from the crowd suddenly paused, her eyes narrowing as her brows furrowed in contemplation.
"Wait... sothing’s not right. That banner... it’s not ours!"
"Could the patriarch have been defeated, and now the Greyson clan has co to wipe us out in revenge?!"
"What kind of nonsense are you spouting!"
But as the charging army drew near, the smiles were wiped clean. It truly was them.
An army from House Greyson!
The three E-rank beings left behind slowly walked forward to et the charge as they approached the elders, before demanding,
"What is the aning of this?"
No reply ca forth. Instead, they watched in bewildernt as the elders slowly parted to make way for a dark-robed youth as he walked forward.
Staring at the figure, their eyes widened slightly. Apart from his striking appearance, they could sense there was sothing different about him.
They just couldn’t put their finger on it. They didn’t have ti to dwell on their thoughts as his mouth opened to speak.
"Your lord, Orros, is dead. Submit under the banner of the Greyson clan, or die and follow behind him," Ulric muttered.
A mont of silence passed as they paused to take in everything, before suddenly erupting in laughter, the crowd behind following in jeers.
"Hahaha! Are we supposed to believe you solely by your words? Even if you speak the truth, your army is only a few hundred while we number among thousands. And now you want us to kneel before you? I think not! Kill the little brat!" the figure at the front yelled, before all three E-rank figures charged at him.
Seeing the sight, a devious smile spread across Ulric’s face.
He had hoped they would say sothing like this. Using their numbers to evaluate their chances of victory was the first and last mistake they would ever make. Even if he were alone, he would suffice.
Raising his scythe into the air, a battle cry tore from his throat as he yelled out,
"Spare only the little ones whose blood is untainted by their corruption. As for the rest... kill them all!"
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