Scott raised his head toward the churning clouds, the heavens themselves seemingly seething at his encroachment. The champions who lingered nearby fled with desperate speed, their limbs trembling as they scrambled over one another. Some among the fleeing champions stumbled and fell—ruthlessly trampled by others too terrified to stop. Within seconds, the once-bustling sanctuary was abandoned, its tranquility shattered. Cries of fear echoed briefly before fading into the distance, leaving behind only the misty silence of the sanctuary.
Yet the elven party remained rooted in place, their gazes locked on Siora, who floated listlessly in midair, her delirious chants continuing unabated. None dared to move or speak, each certain that death would claim anyone foolish enough to approach the one who had emerged from the portal.
That Scott was a territorial lord—an equal in status to the lord of the sanctuary the centaur had so passionately praised—only compounded their anxiety.
Scott paid no attention to the levitating elf or the fleeing champions. His focus was instead on the figure descending from the turbulent heavens.
The Chains of the Abyss, cloaked in blackened flames, coiled around Scott like a living serpent, radiating a vengeful energy. By contrast, the War Hammer of the Mad God remained still, though tendrils of blackened fire and shadow rippled off it, competing for dominance.
Scott’s gaze remained fixed on the descending territorial lord. The figure—a lizardman clad in lustrous silver armor etched with faint gold—descended with deliberate grace. His exceptionally long, jagged tail swept the air behind him like a pendulum. In his hand, he held a brass trident, each of its three prongs encapsulating raw elemental chaos: The leftmost prong swirled with wind, restless and fierce. The rightmost prong burned with fire, crackling with intense heat. The centermost prong bore the dual elements of lightning and water, their chaotic energies swirling in symbiotic opposition.
Scott narrowed his gaze at the weapon, its immense power palpable even from a distance.
This one’s definitely more powerful than Rashka... or whatever his name was, Scott thought, his eyes flickering briefly to the sanctuary. But it doesn’t look like he’s prepared for combat. This place resembles a haven, not a stronghold.
His gaze returned to the lizardman, who still lingered in midair.
Opening his mouth, Scott’s voice thundered across the expanse: “I will only say this once. Surrender or be exterminated!”
The air grew deathly still. Even the heavens seemed to pause their rage.
The lizardman, trident lowered, halted his advance. His slit pupils alternated between Scott and the levitating elf who chanted praises of “Madness” in a delirious fervor.
“I can’t agree to that,” the lizardman finally said, his voice calm but resolute. His golden-etched armor shimmered faintly. “There are children, the disabled, and the sick among the inhabitants of this sanctuary. What hope would they have if I surrendered?”
His tone sharpened, and he continued, “You’re a being that reeks of the same essence as those who lay waste to everything they touch. Surrendering to you would be no different from extermination.”
Raising his trident slightly, he met Scott’s gaze head-on. “I’ll offer you this instead: leave, and never return. Do not force my hand.”
Scott stared back at the lizardman. Unlike his previous encounters, this was the first opponent he’d met who was willing to fight not for ambition or survival, but to protect others. Yet, he felt nothing—not admiration, not anger, not pity. Only a faint curiosity.
Scott’s lips curled into a soft chuckle, startling the territorial lord. Shaking his head gently, he tightened his grip on the War Hammer, the blackened flames around him flaring to life as he took a step forward.
“As admirable as your intentions are,” Scott began, his voice dripping with cold finality, “it’s you who should reconsider. If you surrender, I’ll spare your life—and the lives of your subjects.”
“Do you think I’m a fool?” the lizardman interrupted, his voice rising. “While I may not have climbed the rankings like you maniacs who revel in mindless slaughter, I have full confidence in my ability to protect what’s mine.”
His trident began to hum with power as he lowered it toward Scott. “There are countless territories you could pillage. Do not bring despair to those who have found peace in this maddening world. Leave, and never return!”
The golden etchings on his armor began to spread, overtaking the silver sheen. The air around him crackled with energy as he stared unyieldingly at Scott.
For a moment, the two territorial lords remained locked in a silent standoff. The heavens above raged in chaotic harmony with the tension below.
Finally, Scott broke the silence. “How did you become a territorial lord?”
The question caught Rhuz—this sanctuary’s lord—off guard. His slit eyes blinked in confusion, his grip on the trident loosening slightly.
Of all the threats and declarations he had anticipated, this question was not one of them.
Scott pressed on, his tone devoid of emotion. “I’m one of the maniacs you spoke of. Slaughtering my enemies is the only way I survive in this place.”
He paused, taking another deliberate step forward. The Chains of the Abyss rattled ominously, echoing in the silence.
“But you’re different. So, tell me,” Scott continued, his gaze unwavering. “How did you become a territorial lord?”
Rhuz didn’t answer immediately, his features flickering between caution, surprise, and bewilderment. The silence stretched on, but Scott didn’t press further. Instead, he observed the lizardman with the same unyielding focus.
Toi did mention there were alternate ways to become a territorial lord, Scott mused silently. But I didn’t expect to encounter someone who used one of those paths. His gaze lingered on Rhuz. Despite standing before a potential enemy, his bloodlust is almost nonexistent. How has someone like him survived this long?
His eyes shifted momentarily to the brass trident that Rhuz wielded. Could it be because of that weapon?
Scott’s thoughts wandered briefly to his companions. I’ve never thought of myself—or any of us—as heroes. We don’t go out of our way to cause unnecessary suffering either. But in this place, most champions are inherently selfish, driven by survival and ambition. And yet… His gaze returned to Rhuz. This one doesn’t even carry that basic selfishness. Why?
Finally breaking the silence, Scott’s voice thundered, calm yet commanding. “It seems you have no interest in answering.” He raised the War Hammer of the Mad God, its blackened flames licking the misty air. “Very well, I will—”
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“This place,” Rhuz interrupted suddenly, his voice deep and steady, “used to be teeming with carnivorous plants and leeches that fed on life essence.”
Scott paused, lowering the hammer slightly, and listened as the lizardman continued.
“I, along with many others, was thrust into this savage land by the links—dumped here to die,” Rhuz said, his gaze drifting to the chaotic skies above. “Most of us didn’t stand a chance. Many were eliminated, not by the plants or leeches, but by each other.”
Scott’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Oh no,” Rhuz said, his tone growing colder. “The plants and leeches had adapted to coexist, forming a symbiotic relationship that even the arrival of new prey didn’t disrupt. But champions like you?” Rhuz’s voice hardened. “It was your kind that brought chaos.”
Scott tilted his head slightly, the faintest hint of curiosity flickering in his expression.
“I don’t know how it started,” Rhuz pressed on, his grip tightening on his trident. “Rumors began to spread—that killing enough people could secure a place on the rankings. Suddenly, this already hellish land descended into pure madness. Children… the elderly… those incapable of fighting—they were slaughtered in cold blood, all for the sake of power.”
Rhuz’s hands trembled, the golden etchings on his armor beginning to glow brighter as his voice deepened.
“We were all just trying to survive,” he growled, his jagged tail swaying with barely contained rage. “We could’ve helped one another. But no. Their greed turned this place into a slaughterhouse.”
He took a deep breath, the rage subsiding just enough for him to continue.
“I couldn’t let it happen,” Rhuz said, his voice steady but weighted with emotion. “No. I wouldn’t. While they murdered with abandon, I made it my goal to save as many as I could. It was hard—brutal, even. But the more people I saved, the more I knew I was doing the right thing.”
Rhuz paused, his slitted eyes narrowing as if replaying the memories in his mind. “The bodies piled so high that even the plants and leeches began to die, choking on the stench of decay. But then, something unexpected happened.”
Scott’s brows furrowed slightly; his interest piqued.
“They’re sentient,” Rhuz said quietly, his tone almost reverent. “The plants and leeches—they’d been watching us all along. When they were on the brink of extinction, they chose me. They saw me as someone who could restore balance. They entrusted me with this land, gave me the power I needed to ensure it would never be reduced to carnage again.”
Scott’s gaze flicked to the trident once more, then back to Rhuz.
“I assume that weapon is their gift to you,” Scott said, his tone measured.
Rhuz nodded. “This trident represents their will. With it, I can banish those who bring destruction and protect the sanctuary they entrusted to me.”
Scott’s expression remained impassive, though his thoughts churned. Sentient species on the Endless Bridge? That’s a revelation Orion would salivate over. His grip on the War Hammer tightened as he glanced down at it. The weapon pulsed, its dark flames restless, almost as if it were eager to devour or corrupt the trident Rhuz carried.
Returning his attention to Rhuz, Scott’s gaze sharpened. He’s far more sincere than I expected. But why would he tell me all of this? What does he gain by revealing his past so openly?
As if reading Scott’s thoughts, Rhuz’s voice broke the silence.
“You must be wondering why I’m telling you this,” Rhuz said, his features relaxing slightly.
Scott’s lips curled into an amused smirk. “I am,” he admitted. “If you wouldn’t have answered me otherwise, then why now?”
“They wanted you to know,” Rhuz replied flatly.
Scott’s brow furrowed. They? Realization struck him. The plants and leeches… the sentient species that chose him.
“Why?” Scott asked after a brief pause, his tone quieter but no less commanding.
“They don’t want a repeat of the massacre that befell this land,” Rhuz declared, his voice steady but heavy with resignation. “They fear the endless darkness sprawling within your shadow… and the authority you possess.”
Scott’s gaze locked onto Rhuz, carefully analyzing his words. The lizardman’s tone betrayed limited knowledge about authorities, but it intrigued Scott, nonetheless. So, the sentient creatures can detect the lingering nihilistic portal within my shadow… and even the Authority of Madness. It was unexpected, but Scott paid it little thought.
“And what about you?” Scott asked, his voice calm yet piercing. “Do you also fear me?”
Rhuz straightened, his grip tightening on the trident. “The lives of all my subordinates rest on my shoulders. I don’t have the luxury of such emotions.”
His resolute gaze met Scott’s, unwavering. “I don’t know what your goals are, but I beg of you to spare this territory,” Rhuz pleaded, exhaling deeply. “To you, it might just be another territory to conquer. One among many. But for those of us who have endured the horrors this land has to offer, it’s the only place we can call home. Let’s not indulge in a needless battle.”
Scott studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, the Chains of the Abyss and the War Hammer of the Mad God shimmered and shifted into their inactive forms. His shoulders relaxed, and his demeanor softened ever so slightly.
“I understand,” Scott said evenly. “I think your stance is admirable. It’s reckless and could even be considered senseless, but I’m not one to judge you for how you choose to survive in a place like this. While others avoid the shackles of responsibility, you embrace them—and you’ve reaped the benefits. For that, I applaud you.”
Rhuz’s features softened, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “Does that mean you’re willing to back down?” he asked cautiously.
“No,” Scott replied coldly, his tone carrying an undeniable finality.
The faint hope flickering in Rhuz’s eyes extinguished instantly. Scott’s voice was as cutting as the void itself.
“While I’ll admit that helping others is admirable, I honestly don’t care,” Scott continued. “Like you, I have my own circumstances, and I’m not willing to compromise on them.”
Rhuz’s features tightened again, his grip on the trident subtly shifting. “So, you intend to bring another massacre to this land—”
“That depends on you,” Scott interjected flatly. “You’re right: I could go to other territories and conquer them. But I don’t have the luxury of time for such indulgences. I’m here now, and I won’t leave unless I get what I want.”
Taking a step forward, Scott’s voice grew colder. “If you wish for this sanctuary to remain the haven it is, then surrender. The alternative…” Scott shook his head slowly, his eyes locking onto Rhuz’s. “You won’t like the alternative. Now choose: surrender or be exterminated.”
Scott’s words thundered across the territory. Even Siora and her elven companions trembled at the sheer might in his voice.
Rhuz’s teeth clenched, veins bulging visibly across his scaled face. His trident shook slightly in his grip. He doesn’t care… Rhuz thought bitterly, his chest tightening with frustration and despair.
He had hoped—thought—that Scott might understand his plight. But the being before him was as ruthlessly cold as Rhuz had feared.
Seconds passed in heavy silence, the air crackling with tension. Then, Rhuz sighed audibly, his features softening as his rage ebbed. His gaze turned to Scott, filled with reluctant resolve.
“Will you spare them if I surrender?” Rhuz asked, his voice low but firm.
Scott responded without hesitation. “Contrary to what you might think, I won’t go out of my way to slaughter those with no ill intent toward me.”
His tone shifted slightly, carrying a measured calm. “I’ll make myself clear: I want this territory. I don’t care about you or your subjects. But if you—or they—stand in my way, I’ll eliminate you without hesitation.”
He paused, letting his words settle. “If you surrender, I’ll delegate control back to you. I have no interest in changing the nature of this place. But defy me, and you’ll leave me no choice but to bring ruin.”
Scott took another deliberate step forward, his dark presence growing heavier. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Rhuz cut him off.
“How can I trust your words?” Rhuz demanded, his voice tense and sharp. “Anyone can make such claims. Surely, you don’t expect me to trust you blindly?”
Scott’s voice thundered in response. “I don’t care if you trust me.”
The sprawling darkness within Scott’s shadow began to bubble violently, and the air around him warped unnaturally. It was as though a gateway to oblivion was on the verge of opening, threatening to consume everything in its wake.
“You’ve had enough leeway,” Scott declared, his tone brimming with finality. “My patience is at its limit. Make your decision—before I make one for you.”
Rhuz’s gaze wavered as the oppressive energy intensified. The ground beneath quaked subtly, and the anomalies spreading through the territory grew more pronounced.
The lizardman’s mind raced. He could sense the calamity poised to erupt if he delayed any longer. Yet, doubt gnawed at him. If I surrender, will he truly spare us? Or will he throw us out once he takes control?
The weight of his people’s lives pressed heavily on his shoulders. With no other options, Rhuz slowly lowered his trident, the golden etchings dimming as his energy faded.
“I’ll surrender,” Rhuz said, his voice carrying the heavy burden of his decision.
The bubbling darkness within Scott’s shadow subsided slightly, though the oppressive air remained. Scott’s expression remained cold; his gaze unflinching.
“Good,” Scott said simply. “Your gamble will not be in vain.”