The forty-ninth dawn spilled over Kael El's Ashen Empire, a jagged tapestry of 8,906 square kilometers glinting with bone fields, ash plains, and molten wastes. The major city pulsed—115 buildings clad in bone steel and Mist Core light, forges roaring as 1,938,000 subjects bent Torva's remnants into their fold. Kael sprawled in the Lord's Estate, Stormforged Blade gleaming across his thighs, EX: Dragonflame Reaver simmering at his side, Stormhide Armor etched with fresh bone filigree. His smirk danced, flirty and sharp, a cool confidence blazing—Level 62, rank six on the Nexus Leaderboard, and a storm brewing for Zara's golden throat.
Day 49. Torva's dust—Zara's next. His dark eyes flicked to the system panel flaring in the dim chamber, pride a steady hum in his chest. One-point-nine million souls, 8,906 square clicks—Zara's 67's a taunt, but I'm the tide. The Nexus buzzed with whispers: "Kael's 62—Torva's bones bow,""Zara's gold piles—67's untouchable." He winked at the air—Yet.
