The Hives hummed like hearts.
In the yard of the Night Castle, the domes of bone and iron pulsed with a low rhythm, every beat drinking life from the population within. The air was heavy with the smell of blood and soil. Selena walked between the domes, her gown trailing across black earth, crimson eyes glowing. She smiled as the feeders moaned softly, their bodies trembling, their veins pouring into the pipes that fed the Core.
Lucas stood on the battlements, watching. His hand rested on the cold stone. Through the Relay, he felt the territory breathing—fields thick with Grave Crops, dogs patrolling in perfect cadence, ghouls stacking bone into new walls. His empire grew louder every hour.
[Ding!]
[New Blood Protocol stabilized.]
[Blood Essence production: steady.
Vile Spark: rising.
Population yield: efficient.]
[Selena Draculea — Hunger stabilized (for now).]
But stability was an illusion. The world was not silent.
The horizon glowed with fires that were not his.
Far away, beyond the wasteland, a banner snapped in the night wind. Silver cloth, embroidered with a lion's head. Beneath it, men in bright armor sharpened their blades. Their campfires burned steady. Their voices carried the tone of discipline, not fear.
They were the Silver Banner, a faction that had risen outside the chaos of the starting zones. Lords who had banded together, building strength through order, rule, and steel. Their leader, Lord Adrien Veyl, stood at the center of the camp. His armor shone like polished moonlight, his sword resting against his shoulder.
"The rumors spread too far to ignore," he said. "An Unknown Lord. A butcher. Villages turned to stockyards. Populations drained."
One of his commanders spat into the dirt. "Lies spread faster than truth. But if even half is true, this… Night Crypt is a disease."
Adrien's eyes narrowed. "And disease must be cut out before it spreads."
He turned to the circle of Lords around him—ten in total, each wearing the crest of the Silver Banner. Together, their territories stretched across valleys and hills far from Lucas's domain. They were not weaklings from the starting bloodlands. They had survived long enough to build fortresses of stone and armies of steel.
"I will send an expedition," Adrien said. "Not to conquer. To confirm. If the stories are true… then we will strike. The Silver Banner cannot allow such corruption to grow."
The Lords murmured agreement.
The expedition was chosen—three elite Lords, veterans with soldiers hardened in battle. Their names whispered like iron: Ser Kaelen of the Pike, Lady Mirelle of Frostwood, and Lord Tarris of the Black Hills. Each had two hundred troops, drilled and armed with weapons forged from rare ores, their banners polished and proud.
Together, they marched into the wasteland.
Back at the Night Castle, the Relay trembled. Lucas felt the movement before scouts could even see it. A ripple in the system's hum, like a foreign note in a song.
[Ding!]
[Alert: Unregistered Lord units entering proximity zone.]
[Tag: Faction Alignment Detected — Silver Banner.]
[Composition: 3 elite Lords, ~600 troops.]
[Objective: Reconnaissance / Elimination potential.]
Selena stood at his side, her smile widening as she read the message. "Finally," she whispered. "Something worth drinking."
Lucas's eyes narrowed. "They come to watch."
"And they will stay," Selena said, licking her lips. "Inside me."
He let the silence linger for a breath. Then: "We don't show them strength. We show them truth."
Selena tilted her head. "Truth?"
"The truth," Lucas said, "that resistance is only another kind of resource."
The scouts of the Silver Banner reached the ridge first. They crouched behind rocks, watching the valley below. What they saw made their mouths go dry.
The Night Castle loomed like a wound in the earth. Its walls pulsed faintly with veins of red light. The fields outside it were wrong—sprouting pale plants that twitched like fingers, lilies black as night with throats of red. Ghouls ploughed with ribs, Bone Dogs prowled in packs, and great domes of bone throbbed like living organs.
One scout gagged. Another whispered, "Gods preserve us."
Their leader said nothing. He only signaled for silence.
From the battlements, Lucas watched them. He let them look. He let them breathe the air of his territory, heavy with despair, sweet with blood. He wanted their reports poisoned with terror.
Selena appeared beside him, elegant as always, her lips still wet from the feeders she had tasted. She leaned close. "Shall I kill them now, my King?"
"Not yet," Lucas said. "Fear spreads faster when it has witnesses."
By nightfall, the three Silver Banner Lords made camp on the ridge. They posted guards, sharpened weapons, and whispered of what they had seen.
Ser Kaelen spat into the fire. "Abomination. He makes farms of the dead."
Lady Mirelle's face was pale, but her voice was steady. "It's worse than the rumors. This place… it should not exist."
Lord Tarris grunted. "Then tomorrow, we cut it down. We show the others he can bleed."
But their words were thin armor against the truth. The fear had already seeped into them, through their eyes, through their soldiers' whispers, through the sight of fields that grew bone instead of grain.
And Lucas listened through the Relay. Every word. Every doubt. Every heartbeat.
[Ding!]
[Fear Link established.
Enemy morale baseline: −12%.
Resistance loyalty: unstable.]
Selena's laughter spilled into the night, carried on the wind. The Silver Banner soldiers shivered, clutching their weapons tighter.
Lucas stepped back from the wall. "Let them march," he said. "Let them believe they can resist. Tomorrow, we show them what resistance buys."
Selena leaned into him, elegant and cruel, her lips brushing his ear. "My King, may I have the Lords for myself?"
His silence was permission.
The system pulsed with warning.
[Ding!]
[Global Alert.]
[Faction — Silver Banner has deployed an elite expedition against the Unknown Lord.]
[Status: The first resistance has begun.]
The world held its breath.