The echoes of Selena's laughter still clung to the walls of the Night Castle. The spires vibrated faintly, the way glass vibrates after a scream. The ribcage in the necro-field pulsed one last time and then went still, burying its glow deep inside the soil. The ground had eaten its fill, but the Queen had not.
Selena stood at Lucas's side, her lips wet with red, her chest rising and falling as though each breath was a prayer to hunger. Her eyes were radiant and dangerous, the crimson glow inside them alive like a second sun. She licked her lips slowly, savoring the last traces of the three devoured Lords.
"My King," she whispered, voice shaking between elegance and madness, "the Core speaks to me. It says: more. Always more."
Lucas did not answer. He watched the field, the furrows of necro-soil trembling with small sprouts that looked like bone fingers reaching up. He listened to the whispers of the Relay and the hum of the Fear Engine. He felt the feeders in their barracks shiver and cry in rhythm, the way cattle tremble when the slaughterhouse smells of blood.
This was not enough. Feeding Selena piecemeal would not sustain her. And worse—the war would consume faster than raids could replenish.
The system chimed, quiet and cold.
[Ding!]
[Protocol Unlock — Population Conversion.]
[Proposal: Install New Blood Protocol across conquered territories.]
[Function: Converts surviving population into "Feeder Units."]
[Unit Traits: passive blood production, no upkeep, loyalty ensured through fear-engine linkage.]
[Side effect: civilian mortality ↑, resistance movements ↓, global hatred ↑.]
Lucas's eyes sharpened. He had expected this. He wanted this.
Selena turned to him, her lips curving into a smile that was both beautiful and terrifying. "Slavery, automated. Feeder stock that never runs dry. This is the throne you promised me."
He stepped forward, boots crunching on dry bone. "Then we begin."
The conquered villages were dragged into the yard one by one. Ghouls herded them with ropes and pikes. Bone Dogs snapped at ankles to hurry the pace. The survivors were many—farmers, craftsmen, children, old women—faces that once belonged to other Lords who had thought their banners could protect them. Now those banners were ashes, and their throats belonged to him.
Lucas raised his hand. Silence fell.
"You live because I allow it," he said, his voice carrying like stone grinding against stone. "You breathe because your fear pleases me. But from this day, you will serve with your veins."
The feeders in the barracks began to moan louder, as if to prove him right.
He gestured. The system obeyed.
[Ding!]
[New Blood Protocol — Initiated.]
[Phase 1: Establish Feeder Hives.]
[Phase 2: Install Fear Engine resonance nodes in villages.]
[Phase 3: Convert population into Feeder Units.]
[Warning: Resistance chance ↑. Loyalty must be enforced through spectacle.]
"Selena," he said, eyes on the crowd, "show them what rebellion earns."
She smiled, slow and sharp. She glided forward, her gown brushing over the dirt. She chose a boy no older than sixteen—skinny, trembling, his eyes bright with the kind of courage that had not yet learned it was useless. She bent close, stroking his cheek with an elegant claw.
"Shh," she whispered, "your blood will build empires."
Her fangs sank into his throat.
The boy screamed once, then went silent. His body withered in seconds, drained until he was nothing but a husk. Selena let him fall, her lips glistening. She looked at the crowd and smiled with devotion. "For my King."
The villagers screamed, wailed, begged—but none dared run.
[Ding!]
[Demonstration Complete.]
[Fear Index: +++]
[Resistance chance: lowered.]
Lucas raised his hand again. "Into the Hives."
The Feeder Hives rose that very night. The Forge built them out of bone and black iron, each shaped like a dome with ribs curving inward, ending in hooks and pipes. The villagers were sorted—strong bodies in one section, weak ones in another. Ghouls fitted them with collars made of filigree wire that hummed with fear-engine resonance.
One by one, they were locked into the Hive. Pipes pierced their arms. Runes carved into the floor drank their blood drop by drop. They did not die. They were not allowed to.
[Ding!]
[Feeder Hive (Tier E) — operational.]
[Yield: Blood Essence per hour ×50.]
[Population integrated: 120/200.]
[Surplus population marked for Necro-Soil conversion.]
The Hives hummed with life. The ground shook faintly. The castle sighed in pleasure.
Selena walked among the rows, eyes shining, gown dragging across the dirt. She touched the faces of the new feeders, sometimes stroking, sometimes clawing, always smiling. "You belong to me now," she whispered to each. "Your every breath serves my King."
She turned to Lucas, her expression radiant and terrible. "This… this is better than I dreamed. Rivers of blood, without end. You have given me eternity, Lucas."
He did not smile. His eyes scanned the numbers appearing in his vision.
[Ding!]
[Blood Economy Established.]
[Feeder Units provide: Blood Essence (currency), Vile Spark (secondary yield), Fear Energy (passive).]
[Selena Draculea — Hunger stabilized (temporary). Sovereign Power: ↑↑.]
[Global Reputation: Soul Devourer — Architect of Slavery.]
The prisoners who had resisted conversion were brought to the yard. Lucas ordered them bound in a circle. Selena stood in the center, her hands outstretched.
"Make the soil richer," Lucas commanded.
Selena obeyed. Her claws sliced throats in perfect arcs. Blood spilled into the necro-field, absorbed instantly by the hungry lilies. The prisoners screamed, choked, then went limp. Their souls tried to rise, but Selena caught them in her mouth, one after another, swallowing with slow delight.
[Ding!]
[Necro-Soil fertility ↑.]
[Selena Draculea — Sovereign Resonance +9%.]
[Warning: Hunger growth curve accelerated.]
Selena turned to Lucas, her face radiant, her lips dripping with blood and light. "I am yours," she whispered. "Body, soul, hunger. Everything."
Lucas stepped closer, his shadow falling across her pale skin. "And you are mine to use."
She shivered with pleasure.
The system chimed again, louder, as if to remind them both that the world was still watching.
[Ding!]
[Global Announcement.]
[Unknown Lord has activated the New Blood Protocol.]
[Warning to all players: territories conquered will not return. Populations enslaved into feeder stock.]
[Global Directive: Immediate coalition recommended. Elimination priority raised to Absolute.]
The announcement spread like wildfire. Across the game world, Lords trembled. Some spat curses. Some whispered prayers. All now knew the name they had been too afraid to say.
In the Night Castle, Selena threw back her head and laughed. It was elegant and horrific, ringing across the spires, making the feeders tremble in rhythm with the sound.
Lucas stood still, his eyes locked on the Relay, his hand steady on the stone. The night bent around him.
"Now," he said, his voice cutting through the laughter and the hum of the Hives, "we build higher. Tomorrow, more villages. More soil. More feeders."
Selena turned toward him, eyes burning, blood dripping from her lips like jewels. She bowed low, every movement graceful and terrible.
"As you command, my King."