The silence after my declaration was absolute.
No one moved. No one spoke. Even the torches lining the stone walls of the Hollow Market seemed to dim, as if the shadows themselves were leaning in to listen.
I stepped forward once more, slowly, deliberately. The crown on my head pulsed faintly with dark authority.
"I said," I repeated, voice calm and sharp, "I'm claiming it."
The auctioneer — a thin man with a shaved head and sweat already trickling down his neck — glanced toward the guards. He didn't ask for help. His eyes just screamed it.
They hesitated. Good. Even the muscle could feel it.
System Alert: Unauthorized item acquisition.
Attempting to redirect user to hero protocol...
Redirect failed.
I smirked. Try harder.
"You can't just—" the auctioneer began, voice cracking.
"Finish that sentence," I said, stepping onto the platform. "I dare you."
He swallowed his words and backed away.
The Gauntlet of Ruin lay on a velvet cloth — its metal sleek and ancient, crimson runes writhing like they were alive. The air around it tingled with old, broken power.
I reached out.
System Warning: Touching this item may—
Yeah yeah.
I picked it up.
It burned. Not fire — weight. The weight of something that had seen the fall of kingdoms, that had crushed heroes under its grip.
And now... it belonged to me.
Item Acquired: Gauntlet of Ruin
Status: Corrupted Artifact
Compatibility: 84%... 89%... 97%
Integration complete. New power path unlocked: [Dominion Ascension]
The lights in the room flickered. A few people screamed.
From above, I heard a low whistle. Kaelira.
"Well," she murmured, "you weren't bluffing."
The guards finally moved. Three of them stormed toward the stage, swords drawn.
"You've broken the market's code!" one shouted.
"You mean the rule that says 'don't piss off the one in charge'?" I asked.
He roared and lunged.
I lifted my hand — the gauntleted one.
A pulse of force exploded outward.
Not magic.
Not skill.
Will.
The first guard slammed into a pillar, unconscious before he hit the floor. The second dropped his weapon mid-stride. The third collapsed to his knees, trembling.
Skill Unlocked: Sovereign's Grasp
Effect: Instantly suppresses weak-willed enemies in line of sight. Causes paralysis or submission depending on target level.
The room shifted.
Whispers. Fear. Realization.
Someone murmured, "Is he a warlock? A cursed king?"
"He's not listed," another whispered. "He's not in the system."
"He's outside it."
I stepped off the platform.
Kaelira dropped down beside me, smooth and quiet.
"That was dramatic," she said, amused. "Are you trying to get assassinated on your first week?"
"If they try," I said, slipping the gauntlet beneath my cloak, "they better aim for the head."
She smiled. "You've officially started a war, you know."
I shrugged. "I prefer to call it... a correction."
Behind me, the auctioneer stammered something about protocols, penalties, divine punishment.
"Tell your gods," I said, not looking back, "they summoned the wrong hero."
We left the Hollow Market through a different exit — a secret tunnel behind a false wall, revealed only after Kaelira whispered something in a dead language I didn't recognize.
As we emerged in a quiet alley near the southern edge of the city, she leaned against the brick and folded her arms.
"So." Her eyes gleamed. "Want to tell me who you really are?"
"Doesn't matter."
"It kind of does, considering you just hijacked a black-market relic like it owed you money."
I looked at her. "What do you think I am?"
She tilted her head. "Not a mage. You don't cast. Not a noble. You don't beg. Not military. You don't bark orders."
"And yet…"
"You dominate," she finished. "Like someone born to rule."
I didn't answer.
Instead, I pulled back my hood completely. Let her see the crown. The lines of ancient metal, the faint pulse of dark sovereignty, the unspoken threat in every edge.
She didn't flinch.
"Impressive," she said softly. "Heavy is the head?"
"Only when it bows," I replied.
System Alert: Alignment shift detected.
Current Moral Designation: Unknown
Warning: Hero is exceeding expected behavioral parameters. Monitoring escalated.
Kaelira watched me closely. "So. What's your plan? Walk into the palace? Claim the throne?"
"Eventually."
"And until then?"
I turned to her. "Until then, I need eyes. Ears. Loyal hands that know how to move through shadows."
Her lips curled. "Recruiting me?"
"I'm offering you a seat before the table gets too full."
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then, slowly, she extended her hand.
"You're either a genius or a madman," she said. "Either way... I'm in."
New Follower Acquired: Kaelira
Title: Shadowblade Informant
Loyalty: 68%
Note: Loyalty will increase through respect, shared power, and strategic victories.
Back in the heart of Orvale, things were already shifting.
In the cathedral, high priest Alther stirred from his meditation with a start. Candles flickered. His relics trembled.
He turned toward the great stained glass window, where the faceless god watched the city.
"Something has entered the weave," he whispered.
From the upper tower of the keep, a masked figure in royal blue stared into a crystal orb.
The vision within showed the Hollow Market. The gauntlet. Me.
"Inform His Majesty," the figure said. "A new player has entered the board."
And far, far away — in a place where light could not reach — something ancient stirred.
System Admin Interface: Override Request Failed
Entity: [REDACTED] remains unbound. Uncooperative.
New Classification: [Sovereign Class Detected]
Potential Threat Level: Black
As for me?
I stood on the rooftop of a crumbling inn, cloak blowing in the night wind, watching the city flicker with torchlight and ignorance.
Kaelira sat nearby, cleaning her daggers.
"You realize," she said casually, "there's a price on your head already."
"Of course," I replied. "If there wasn't, I'd be doing something wrong."
"You going to lay low?"
I looked out at the city — all its towers, bells, guards, priests, and false kings.
"No," I said. "I'm going to make them look up."