The space Dallion went into was a hall. The entire floor was covered with miniature structures, as if he had suddenly found himself in Legoland. The difference was that the structures were realistic, representing villages, towns and cities. People the size of Dallion, whose features were unrecognizable, moved about, placing or removing structures to various settlements. One could almost think they were playing a game, although based on the harsh atmosphere, Dallion got the impression it was a lot more bloodthirsty than anything he had experienced so far.
“Welcome to the game of domain rulers,” Dararr said, stepping in after him. “In the real world, they’re referred to as nobles, although the term has lost its meaning with all the familial ties and honorary titles.”
Dallion watched two figures place structures within their respective settlements in a wild race. As they did, the domain around each settlement grew.
“From here on, you’ve been given the ability to create your own domains. A house, a village, possibly even a town. Whatever you create will have its own domain, protecting it from the wilderness.”
The otherworlder felt his mouth go dry. It was well known that nobles controlled settlements. Dallion had witnessed it himself many times. On one occasion, he had even briefly become the owner of Nerosal by defeating its guardian. He had read in the tomes of his ring library that mighty awakened had the power to create settlements, though he had believed it to be through the defeat of area guardians. Anyone could build a house out in the open. From there, it was a simple case of defeating the guardian enough times until it grew to the point of a mansion, a castle, or an entire village. Clearly, he had been mistaken. Nobles had the ability to create the area itself out of nothing, birthing the first guardian that came with it… and not only one.
“I can create area guardians?”
“No,” the Moon said. “You can now create key guardians—the ones that determine a settlement domain. A house in the wilderness is no different than a forgotten item. Sure, with enough effort and dedication you can maintain it, even chase off the beasts that attack, but you’ll never create a settlement.”
As she spoke, the domain of one of the figures doubled in size. As it did, the white rectangle depicting the figure’s awakened level increased by one.
“From here on, it’s no longer enough to fix your inner faults in order to advance. Reaching this point means you’ve obtained everything it takes.” The Moon went to his other side. “We no longer need to keep an eye on you, not anymore. In our eyes you’ve become an adult and as an adult you are free to do whatever you wish: succeed or fail, it’s all based on your effort and your choices.”
“No way.” Dallion looked at her in disbelief.
The last few years, the Moons had constantly reminded him how disappointed they were in one thing or another. He’d had his heart thorned, his leveling benefits cut off, and even his level capped—although one could argue that was, in fact, the void’s doing. And now they were telling him they no longer cared?
“You’ve advanced enough to make your own choices. We no longer intend to determine what those are.”
“But… the rules?” Dallion asked. “What if I become the new Star? Or ally myself with him?”
“Haven’t empires in the past allied themselves with the Star?”
“What if I kill all the awakened in my settlement and enslave the rest?”
“Like Aspion did?” The Moon smiled. “Didn’t you once wonder why nobles were allowed to place limiting echoes within the minds of non-awakened, while you yourself weren’t? Now you know the reason. You’re a domain ruler, which means that you’re a Moon within your domain. You can be nice to your inhabitants or have them starve. Any benevolence or cruelty will bring their own outcomes one way or another. The entire blame or thanks will fall on you and you alone.”
Now Dallion understood why in the world of nobles it was so important to save face. The protection, the abundance, the festivals, and the beauty displayed within cities had one sole goal: to maintain the happiness and loyalty of their inhabitants, and attract as many people as possible, awakened and non-awakened alike.
Looking throughout the hall, he was able to see higher level figures present gifts to the lower-standing ones. Funny, all this time, he thought it was the other way around.
“So that’s how I level up,” he said, coming to the realization. “By increasing my domain.”
“Yes. As your settlement increases in level, so do you. If you create a second one, its level is also added to yours.”
“What if I lose my settlement?”
“Your level remains the same, although you must create new settlements that reach its previous level before you can continue advancing.”
“So the strong remain strong.”
“And at the same time aware that they might never grow stronger,” the Moon added. “It’s a complicated game in which war isn’t always the best way to advance, even if it often appears to be.”
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“The conflict between Countess Priscord and Archduke Lanitol.”
“A good example, yes. One that had been in the works for decades. Bit by bit she set up her domain, focusing on villages rather than big towns and cities. The archduke underestimated her, aware that she couldn’t win in a direct conflict until an opportunity presented itself. When that happened, it was already too late. The best he could hope for was a draw, which is what he managed to achieve.”
A game that could last centuries. All the laws that forbade the leveling up of settlements had nothing to do with the poison plague. They were a desperate attempt to keep the countess from leveling up, and still she had found a way.
“What happens if I’m defeated by another awakened?” Dallion asked.
“If you’re killed?” The Moon sounded surprised. “You die.”
“I mean in an awakened realm.”
“There is no difference. You’re a domain ruler now. As I said, we’re no longer looking out for you. Traveling emblems no longer provide any benefit to you because you yourself are a walking domain. You can still create and bless them, as any initiate could, but they won’t save you if you’re killed in the real world or not.”
So this was the game now. There was no doubt about it, this changed everything. If Dallion could describe his life as awakened up to now as a series of personal trials to improve, from here on it had become a strategy empire building experience. Not only did he have to create and develop his domain to level up, but also protect himself from direct attacks; and as he well knew, any high-level initiate with enough experience was one attack away from ending him.
No doubt there was a lot that the Moon wasn’t telling him, but likely he’d get the hang of it with experience.
“Can I invade domains?”
“You mean capture settlements that don’t belong to you?” The Moon shook her head.
“Yes, but how do they become mine? Must I defeat the key guardians? Or kill the domain rulers?”
“Whatever you choose? If you can convince them to vow loyalty to you, you gain everything they have achieved.”
Dallion was about to ask how come there were any who hadn’t given a vow of fealty, when the answer popped into his mind. Making such a vow was the same as creating a self-imposed level cap. There would be no way for a lesser noble to challenge his superior, which in turn would kill all incentive on his part to advance. True, it provided stability, but killed off any potential gains for everyone involved. Or did it?
“If I allow someone to create a domain within mine, does my level increase along with theirs?”
“You’re learning,” the fury said, then made her way to the center of the room. As she did, many of the figures and their domains melted away into fading dust particles. “Your level depends on the level of your personal domains. However, the effect of the domains within is not as direct. If it were, no one would be able to catch up to the first domain rulers.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
The fury laughed.
“While most restrictions in this world have been lifted, there are still a few answers you’re not allowed to know. The point of it all is one of them. Or maybe there’s no point to anything and we just like observing strife, growth, and conflict?”
Sensing it was better to let the topic go, Dallion focused on the floor of the room.
“The total number of subdomains within your own and their level determine your gains. Ten level one towns might increase your domain by ten, three cities might boost it with nine. It’s all a numbers game from there on, one that you’ll have to constantly keep track of.”
Apparently, there was a level of symbiosis between domain rulers. Having towns and villages grow benefited the county, which in turn benefited the province, and ultimately the empire. Of course, that ran the risk of particularly ambitious nobles starting a civil war and turning the tables on their “ruler.” According to the historical scrolls, even archdukes had attempted to do the same to the emperor, only to be smacked down and possibly forced to vow their loyalty to him. It was interesting what happened with settlements that lost their domain ruler, though. At present, Veil Luor was in charge of Dallion’s home village, and he was far from being a domain ruler. One could view him as a caretaker of the place. There was no doubt that the former countess Priscord had gained from the village’s leveling, but without the risk of any revolts.
“What if someone breaks a Moon vow?” Dallion kept looking down. “Will they still get punished?”
“Of course. All domains are within our domain, and while we grant a vast amount of freedom, going against us will not be ignored.”
Just as the fallen south hadn’t. Dallion could all but see it now: a domain ruler from Earth with delusions of grandeur and the power to back it up. The Star had probably thought that she had what it took to challenge the Moons, resulting in the catastrophe that followed.
“What happens when I conquer the world?” The otherworlder looked up.
“Such a cliché question.” The Moon sighed, clearly bored. “Every awakened asks that upon passing through the gate. What happens when you claim it all? Do you gain control of the world? Do you become a Moon? The destruction of all? Or maybe something completely different follows. The answer to that question is always the same.” The Moon floated over to Dallion, leaning to whisper into his ear. “If you’re really curious, why not try to find out?”
Dallion blinked.
“That’s it?” He stared at her.
“What did you expect? It’s through your own efforts that you grow and learn. It’s been like that until now. Why should it be different further on? You know several people have tried to take over the world, you’re even friends with one of them. Have they given you an answer?”
That was true. Pan had tried to take over the world at one point. Of course, the Star had been involved—as was the case with every other attempt at world conquest. Asking him in the past had yielded no answers and given how the Orange Moon was daring Dallion, it probably wouldn't now, either.
“Any other questions?”
Dallion opened his mouth to ask.
“Other than about the void and the eighth Moon,” Dararr cut him short before he could voice a syllable.
Instantly, his mouth snapped shut. Aware that his time with the deity was all but up, the otherworlder’s mind desperately churned, trying to come up with a question that would be useful in the immediate future.
“Can passing the gate be hidden?”
“I thought that after my explanation, that would have been made clear.” One by one, the remaining figures in the room dissolved into clouds of sparkling particles. “You’re a newly established domain ruler. You grow your level by growing your domain.”
“But can others tell that I am?”
“If a tree falls in the forest and there’s no one there, how can they tell it’s fallen?” The entire hall vanished.