The chamber stank of sweat and incense. Maps were spread across the table, pinned down by silver daggers and carved idols of long-forgotten gods. The flickering candlelight cast uneasy shadows across the faces of the assembled warlords, but Khularys Morro barely noticed. His eyes were fixed on the scout kneeling before him, bloodied and breathless.
"Say that again," he ordered, voice like gravel, dry and full of disbelief.
"Elyria and Tolos have fallen, my lord. No survivors. Their cities... razed. Their armies slaughtered.
Khularys turned to his generals, fury dancing in his eyes. "How long ago?"
"Half a day, if not less," the scout whispered. "And they march now. Toward us. Toward Mantarys."
Khularys slammed his fist against the table, scattering figurines. "Impossible! Who could do this in mere hours? Tolos had five thousand spears. Elyria had an entire fleet!"
"No mortal army," muttered old Captain Rezzan, his voice distant. "No army no matter the men could've done this so fast."
The room fell into a heavy silence. Even the younger commanders, so often brash and loud, stared at one another with growing dread. A cold wind seemed to whistle through the hall, despite the roaring hearth.
Khularys paced, jaw tight. "What are these creatures? is it a group of sorcerers? I've heard of red priestesses with their damn fire magic.
"And it spreads like plague," someone whispered. "Even the dead rise to fight for them..."
Khularys turned sharply. "What?"
The scout nodded, eyes haunted. "I saw it myself. Soldiers from Elyria. Dead yet walking. Their eyes glowed. Their wounds did not bleed. They killed their own brothers without hesitation."
Khularys gritted his teeth. "Sorcery some kind of Blood magic. We'll crush them I still command twelve thousand men".
Even as he spoke, screams rose outside the hall.
Khularys turned toward the window smoke the undead were already here.
He raced out to the balcony. His city was aflame. At the gates, his soldiers his soldiers were locked in battle against their own fallen comrades. Corpses animated by something vile. He saw one of his men fall beneath a soldier who had died in the last border skirmish, now risen again. From behind the hills came more. Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands.
And among them... towering figures in gleaming bone-white armor.
The doors to the chamber burst open. A hush fell as a lone figure entered a man, clad in ancient steel, face obscured by a cracked helm. His eyes burned with a cold, unnatural blue. A once-loyal commander of Mantarys.
Khularys reached for his blade too slow, steel pierced flesh, the cold spread instantly.
As Khularys fell to the marble floor, choking on his own blood, his last thought was not of glory, nor of vengeance, but of fear.
For even in death, he would not rest. He would rise. And serve his new master.
-Aurion Vorysion-
He sat upon a throne of obsidian and bone, jagged and ancient, carved in the shape of wings and claws. The great hall of the Freehold. Flickering blue flames lit the chamber, casting eerie shadows across the crumbling dragon statues and cracked murals of old Valyria.
A smile played across his lips.
Today, his army had grown larger. The northern half of the Freehold the so-called "free cities" that had pretended at independence for centuries was his once more. They had fallen quickly, like dry leaves before the storm. Mantarys, Elyria, Tolos... each had burned, bled, and bowed. Their dead now stood in his ranks.
But he had already guessed the cause.
Magic had faded from this world. It had begun, he suspected, with the death of the last dragon. The civil war that tore his idiotic kin. It had broken the world's connection to magic itself.
But now… he had returned.
And with his return, mana was flowing again. Slowly But it was coming back. He could feel it. His mere presence seemed to reawaken the dormant forces of the world. Every time he cast a spell, more of that energy seeped into the land. His undead soldiers, bound to his will and tethered to his power, give part of their own mana to the atmosphere by just existing.
He could not yet wield his full potential but that was temporary. A few years, perhaps.
Not that it mattered. Even now, at a fraction of his strength, there was no one in this age who could rival him.
For now, he would consolidate to rebuild his home using his undead and once they were done, he would focus on the other free cities and eventually to the rest of the world.
[Feat achieve: Takeover Mantarys 2 roll granted, Takeover Elyria 2 roll granted, Takeover Tolos 2 roll granted, 6 roll in total]
[Rolling Roll...]
[Draconic body] - epic power
If one thing above all else defines a dragon, is that they are the incarnation of power! You contain within you the might of an entire raging storm, a torrent to drown any insects who try and match their magic to yours, and the physical strength to snap steel chains as if they were a minor irritant.
[Regeneration] - Legendary power
You have a powerful regeneration factor, making you nearly unkillable by conventional means. You will heal from most wounds in seconds.
[Limitless] - divine perk
You now possess the limitless curse techniques making you able to control the concept of infinity as long as you have a perfect amount of control of your curse energy. The Limitless technique operates the same way convergent and divergent sequences do in mathematics. The Infinity is the convergence of an immeasurable series, anything that approaches the infinity slows down and never reaches the user. This is because the technique takes the finite amount of space between the two subjects and divides it an infinite amount of times.
[Dragonlord] - Mythical Race
You are the hatching of Placidusax, the Dragonlord. As a Royal Ancient Dragon, albeit a child, you possess greatly superhuman physical abilities and greatly increased magical powers. You can shift between your 5-headed ancient dragon form and humanoid form at will; the size of your dragon form is dependent on your power level and your maturity. You possess gilded gravel scales that give you incredible resilience, and in addition, as the child of Placidusax, you are able to breathe out incinerating golden flames and manifest crimson dragon lightning. A trait unique to your lineage, you possess immense time affinity, allowing you to learn time spells on your own with your natural inclination towards it. But even with your talent, time is not trifling power and mastery over it will take a very, very long time.
Source: Elden Ring
[Demon King's Longsword - mythical item
A giant sword wielded by the demon king that has the ability to summon devastating thunderstorms from its blade with each swing. The stronger its user the stronger the lightning storms are.
Source: Solo Levelling
[Albedo] - mythical companion
Albedo was one of the Floor Guardians of Nazarick and a... virgin succubus dark knight? Albedo is the true example of a tank, she has exceptional physical abilities, being able to destroy the walls of a fortress with one blow and incredible defence to the point that anything that can't level a street would it find to hurt her thanks to her multitude fo defensive abilities and skills. In addition, she can use basic magic and has exceptional intelligence as well as competence in most skills a wife would need to have. Comes only with her basic dress and without access to an inventory
Source: Overlord (the anime)
As I gain new memories as my time as the child of Placidusax. As these new memories entered into my head, mixing with my current memories, I gained a complete understanding of how to transform into my dragon form and how to reverse back to my human form.
Weirdly the new memories felt "real" to me, but at the same time I knew how to separate both sets of memories.
Despite the monster boost I got due to my new race and no longer being human, it did feel weird gaining new memories that I have no idea if they were even real or not.
I stopped thinking about it as I saw my door opening up.
It was the undead dragon-rider, Aurion Varezys. The pretender to my empire. His skeletal form was clad in the ornate Valyrian steel armor he had died in, the helmet now cradled in the crook of his arm.
He stopped at the base of the dais and knelt, the bones of his knee clicking against the stone floor.
"Rise," I said simply as he got up. "The reconstruction of the Freehold begins now," I stated, the words a decree that would shape the centuries to come. "You will oversee the labor battalions. Use the fallen of Mantarys, Elyria, and Tolos. I want the foundations laid by the next moon."
"It will be done, your majesty," said my only undead knight as he left.
Satisfied, I turned my attention to the final reward. [Albedo]. According to the system's description, she was a being of immense power and loyalty.
And like that, from a purple portal, she appeared.
She was breathtaking. Alabaster skin, horns like a crown of obsidian, and wings of pure shadow folded against her back. She wore a simple, elegant white gown, and her golden, pupilless eyes snapped open, instantly finding me. The love and devotion in that gaze was so immediate, I felt uncomfortable, and she looked at me with loving eyes.
She dropped to one knee, her head bowed low. "My Lord," her voice was a melody of reverence and awe. "To be summoned into your glorious presence is the highest honor. I am Albedo, your humble servant. My sword, my life, and my very soul are yours to command."
I studied her, feeling the immense power coiled within her form. And she was utterly, fanatically mine.
"Rise, Albedo," I said, a genuine smile touching my lips for the first time since my awakening. "This world is mine to reclaim. You will stand at my side as I do so."
She rose, her expression one of pure, unadulterated bliss. "There is no greater purpose."
Now it was time to plan for my event invasion of the land of the mongrels, of the so-called "Wise Masters" of Meereen, Yunkai, and Yaros and take over the entirety of Slaver's Bay.
-later-
As I practice my new in how to improve my necromancer magic I also started to experiment with the old magic my kin used to use like bloodmagic and others magical arts.
[Bloodmagic - Apprentice]
[Alchemy - Apprentice]
[Ritual magic - Novice]
After I train my necromancy magic, I manage to learn how to use spell that allow me to take the souls of people and study their abilities and giving me the ability to give knowledge to my undead.
So right now I had no need for no working hands since my undead were essentially the labor of the freehold.
I have been also trying to get as much information as possible, especially about my only remaining kin that matters.
Honestly of the four only the girl interested me. The rest were useless to me, and one of them was a halfbreed mongrel who didn't even have those looks of my people.
I had other kin of course but I wanted breeding stock after all I plan to rebuild the great Valyria empire and I'm going to need more dragon around.
I could use Albedo (which I'm probably going to) but I want more "pure" valyrian in the world especially since I'm rebuilding the freehold.
I was probably going to send Albedo to grab the girl name daenerys but first I will take over all of Slaver's Bay, and then I sending her to grab one of my future wife.
For now I continue reading the various books that I was reading, I was currently trying to find the way to make valyrian steel.
-later-
As I looked at my blacksmith undead starting to match produce valyrian steel swords, I smile to myself. It didn't take a long time for me to finally figure it out after reading more and experimenting more with my blood magic.
The magical component to create valyrian steel was the blood of the dragons themselves. After that, I drained a large amount of my own blood to give it to my blacksmith so they can start creating these blades and when my regeneration factor I gave them plenty of blood so they can make more 1000 swords.
As I left them to finish I remember a certain item that I got a couple hundred years ago that I haven't used yet.
The summoning dragon contract.
I technically did not need it anymore since while I'm a dragon so bonding with one wouldn't give me any benefits. But fuck might as well not waste it.
The scroll materialized in my hand, its parchment cool and unnaturally smooth. My name, signed in my own blood, would grant me sole sovereignty over the dragons of that other realm. They would be bound to me, their summoning and dismissal subject to my will alone.
I pricked my finger with a thought, a single drop of blood welling up. I pressed it to the parchment and began to write.
And the connection between the scroll and I was formed. I guess it's time to summon my first dragon with I reached into that new well of power and pulled.
A form began to coalesce within the inferno, shrinking from the conceptual might of the Dragonlord to fit the confines of the room.
It landed before me with a soundless grace that belied its size, folding wings of smoked glass and obsidian against its flanks.
The dragon did not roar. It did not bow. It simply looked at me, and in that gaze, I saw not just acknowledgment, but recognition. I guess my perks did help.
"My fire is yours to command. My name, in the tongue of my world, is Ignis of the Eternal Ember. I am yours, my King" lgnis simply said as I nodded.
"For now, you will hunt. The lands around the Freehold are still infested with vermin. Beasts, monsters, and any foolish mortals who dare draw near. Burn them. Cleanse my territory. Let the smoke be a warning."
Ignis unfolded its wings, the chamber heating dramatically. "It will be a pleasure."
"I am a necromancer so you see any undead they're mine" I said in the last moment as lgnis simply gives me a nod with his head.
-later-
Honestly, I could wish to say that I had a massive great plan ahead of me, but honestly, my advantages were so great that I didn't even bother.
From a balcony of black stone that had been conjured from the earth by his undead labor battalions, he watched the tide of death flow north.
The first to fall was Yunkai, the Yellow City. Its walls, famed for their strength, were its tomb. His legions did not bother with rams or siege towers. They simply piled against the gates and the stone, a climbing, scrambling mountain of corpses that did not feel fear or pain. They climbed over one another, a horrifying, silent avalanche of flesh and bone until they crested the battlements and poured into the city. The famed fighting pits of Yunkai were filled not with slaves, but with the masters themselves, torn apart by the very gladiators they had once owned, now risen with blue fire in their eyes.
Next was Astapor. The city of the Red Brick and the Unsullied. He had been mildly curious to see how the famed eunuch spearmen would fare. The answer was briefly.
The Unsullied formed their perfect, unbreakable squares, their shields a wall, their spears a hedge. They died where they stood. And then, they stood again. Their discipline, their unwavering obedience, made them perfect soldiers even in death. The Good Masters, watching from their pyramids, saw their ultimate creation turned against them.
Meereen, the greatest of the three, held out the longest. A day. They barricaded their great bronze gates and rained oil and fire from the harpy-headed walls. It was an annoyance. A single thought from their new king, and a golden portal shimmered into existence above the main gate. Not a spear or a sword, but a massive, ornate urn tipped over. A deluge of what looked like water, but was in fact a magical acid that dissolved bronze, stone, and flesh alike, poured forth. The gate ceased to exist, and with it, Meereen's final hope.
The Great Pyramid of Meereen became his temporary throne room. He sat upon a chair of fused gold and bone.
[Feat Achieved: Conquer Yunkai +2 Rolls Granted, Conquer Astapor +2 Rolls Granted, Conquer Meereen +3 Rolls Granted, Total Rolls: 7]
I felt a flicker of anticipation. The rewards were becoming more substantial with each significant victory.
[Dragonhome Fortress - Legendary Structure]
A castle carved from a single, colossal dragon-shaped mountain. It is impervious to conventional siege weaponry and naturally radiates an aura that strengthens dragons and those with dragonblood while weakening all others. It contains hatcheries, forges, and a throne room that amplifies the ruler's magical authority. It can be summoned once in a location of the user's choosing.
[The Black Stone - Divine Material]
A cache of the mysterious, oily black stone that forms the foundation of Asshai and the Seastone Chair. It is intensely magical, resonates with shadow and blood magic, and can be used to construct buildings that are nigh-indestructible and can channel vast amounts of power. The cache is vast enough to build a small city. Every five days it refills.
Source: A Song of Ice and Fire
[Authority of the King - Divine Perk]
Your word is law, in a literal, metaphysical sense. Within the borders of your recognized territory, you can enact edicts that carry the weight of natural law. For example, you could decree "No one may draw a weapon in anger within my city," and those who try will find their arms frozen. This authority scales with the size and recognition of your domain and the conviction of your will. Overuse can be mentally draining.
[Dragon Tamer - Epic Perk]
You possess an innate, supernatural ability to dominate, control, and command any creature with draconic bloodline, from wyverns to true dragons. Your will is an iron cage around their minds. They cannot defy you. This does not grant loyalty, only absolute obedience.
[Bloodline Purity - Rare Perk]
Any offspring you sire will inherit the strongest, purest aspects of your own bloodline, with no genetic degradation. Your children will be born with the full potential of your powers, guaranteed. They will also be instinctively loyal to you.
[Soul Forge - Mythic Item]
A forge that burns not with fire, but with the captured souls of the dead. Weapons and armor crafted within it can be imbued with the skills, memories, or even the cursed anguish of the souls used as fuel. A sword quenched in the soul of a great knight will never miss its mark; armor tempered with the soul of a stubborn dwarf becomes unbreakable.
[Army of the Damned - Legendary Spell]
An advanced necromantic ritual. Instead of raising individuals, you can target an entire battlefield or city district. Every single corpse within the area of effect simultaneously rises as a fully cognizant undead soldier, instantly armed and armored with spectral versions of the weapons they bore in life. They retain all their combat skills, now serving your will without question.
Source: Warcraft
[Due to advanced necromancy spell unlocked "The essence of the necromancer" Upgrades to tier 2]
I stood from my throne of gold and bone and walked to the arched opening of the pyramid, looking out over the city I had just conquered. The sounds of sporadic fighting were dying down.
Raising my hand with a simple spell all the dead soldiers got up as they started getting reanimated.
The other rewards would be put to immediate use. I focused on the [Dragonhome Fortress]. I didn't need it here.
With a thought that strained the edges of my consciousness, I summoned it. Far to the south, on the central peninsula of my ancestral home, the earth itself groaned and shifted as my new building appeared on top of it.
It was time to put the rest of my new tools to work.
"Albedo," I said, my voice echoing in the now-silent throne room.
She was at my side in an instant, having been overseeing the securing of the pyramid. "My Lord?"
"We are returning to Valyria. To [Dragonhome]. The [Black Stone] will be used to reinforce its foundations and key structures. You will oversee the initial construction of forges and defenses. Use the labor battalions. I will join you shortly."
"At once, my King," she said, her golden eyes shining with fervor. A portal, summoned by my will, swirled into existence beside her, showing a glimpse of the colossal dragon-shaped fortress. She stepped through without hesitation.
For now I commanded my undead to bring back order and thanks to the new upgrade to my necromancer skills my undead no longer look like well on undead for the most part except the blue fire eyes that they kept.
-later-
Returning back to the freehold I find Albedo writing some paper and then I remember what I wanted to ask her to do after I took over all of the slaves bay.
"My Lord," she said, setting the quill down and rising to her feet. "The initial inventories are proceeding ahead of schedule. The resource flow from the Bay will fuel our constructions for years to come."
I nodded, my gaze sweeping over the organized chaos of her work. She was efficiency personified. "The conquest was merely the first step. Consolidation is underway. But it is time to look beyond this place."
Her posture straightened, sensing a command. "You have a task for me."
"I do in Pentos, the last remnants of my bloodline cling to a pathetic exile. A brother and a sister, Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen. They are beggars and pawns, scrounging for the support to win back a throne that pales in comparison to what we are building here."
"The girl, Daenerys, is of interest to me. She is the last female of pure Valyrian descent. Her blood has value. I intend for her to be one of the foundations of the new dragon-blooded nobility."
I turned back to Albedo, my expression flat. "Your mission is to retrieve her. Bring her to me. Unharmed, and… unspoiled. Her value lies in her purity."
A flicker of anger and possessive crossed Albedo's face at the word 'purity', but it was gone in an instant, replaced by unwavering resolve. "It will be done, my King. This Viserys… what are your orders regarding him?"
I dismissed her with a wave of my hand. "He is a rabid dog, a fool who calls himself a dragon. He is of no use to me. If he is an inconvenience, remove him. If he threatens the girl's safety, obliterate him. His existence is irrelevant."
A smile, sharp and terrible, touched Albedo's lips. "Understood. I shall ensure the girl is delivered to you. And the brother… will cease to be an inconvenience."
"Good. Do not be seen unless you wish to be. Your power is beyond anything in this world. This should be a simple extraction. Take whatever resources you need from the treasury. A single Gate should suffice for your travel."
She bowed her head deeply. "By your will. I will not fail you."
As she straightened, a golden portal already shimmering into existence behind her, I added one final, quiet command. "And Albedo… ensure she is treated with care. She is a valuable asset, not a prisoner."
"Of course, my Lord," Albedo said, her voice a silken promise.
-Albedo-
One moment, she stood in the awe-inspiring presence of her King, amidst the nascent glory of the Dragonhome Fortress. The next, her heels clicked against sun-baked stone in a narrow, reeking alley in Pentos.
The stench of a thousand mortal lives assailed her senses unwashed bodies, spoiled food, and the underlying tang of fear and desperation. It was disgusting. To think that her Lord's precious "thing" was festering in a place like this was an insult. She should have been the one to purify his bloodline, to bear his divine children. But his will was law. The girl was a tool, and Albedo was the instrument that would retrieve her.
Finding the "Illyrio Mopatis" the Magister the King's memories had indicated was trivial. His manor was the most opulent blister on this festering sore of a city. She did not approach the gates. Instead, she simply walked through the walls, the stone parting for her like water as she invoked a skill. [Greater Teleportation].
She appeared in a hallway lined with grotesque, gilded statues. A fat, slug-like man in silks was berating a servant. Illyrio Mopatis. He gasped, his jowls quivering as she materialized before him.
"You….! Guards!" he spluttered.
Albedo did not move. She simply let a fraction of her aura, the crushing weight of a Floor Guardian of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, press down upon the room. The servant fainted. Illyrio collapsed to his knees, his face pale, struggling to breathe.
"The Targaryen girl," Albedo said, her voice pleasant, melodic, and utterly devoid of warmth. "Where is she?"
"I… I don't know what you…"
The pressure intensified. Illyrio whimpered, a wet stain spreading across his fine silk trousers.
"Do not waste my time. The bastard son your masters left to rot in the mines has returned. And he has sent for his cousin. You will give her to me, or I will peel the memories from your screaming soul."
Albedo plucked the exact location from his surface thoughts. "Thank you for your cooperation."
She considered killing him, but it would just be a waste of her effort. And her Lord had not commanded it. Instead, she leaned close, her golden eyes boring into his. "Forget this conversation. When you think of the Targaryens, you will feel only a vague unease, a conviction that supporting them is a doomed endeavor."
He would be a useless pawn from now on.
She turned and walked through the wall again, leaving the magister weeping on the floor.
The seaside manse was scarcely better, a gilded cage for the last two pathetic sparrows of a fallen dynasty. She entered the main hall as silently as a shadow. And there they were.
A gaunt, silver-haired man with lilac eyes was pacing, his face a mask of petulant fury Viserys The "Beggar King"
And in the corner, trying to make herself small, was the girl.
Daenerys.
Albedo's analytical gaze assessed her. Small, frail, with silver-gold hair and wide, frightened violet eyes. She was a child, pretty in a delicate, breakable way. This was the vessel for the future of Valyria? It was almost laughable. But the blood… the blood was pure. Her Lord had seen value there, and so value there was.
Viserys finally noticed her. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice shrill. "How did you get in here?
Albedo ignored him completely. Her eyes were fixed on Daenerys. She took a step forward, her movements impossibly graceful.
The girl shrank back.
"Stay away from her!" Viserys shrieked, drawing a thin, ceremonial sword.
He lunged.
It was not even a flicker of thought. Albedo's hand moved, catching the blade between her index finger and thumb. The steel shattered like glass.
Viserys stared, dumbfounded, at the hilt in his hand. Ripping the hilt away from him she stabbed him in the chest with what was left with the sword making him fall to the ground.
"BROTHER" Daenerys going to see her brother.
Albedo was now before Daenerys. The girl was trembling, tears streaming down her face, staring at the twitching ruin of her brother.
"Daenerys Targaryen," Albedo said, her voice softening into a horrific parody of comfort. "Do not be afraid. Your time in this squalor is over. A true King has come for you."
She knelt, bringing herself to the girl's eye level, and offered a hand. "Your real family has been waiting for you for a very, very long time. Come. I am taking you home."
Terrified, confused, and with nowhere else to go, Daenerys, after a hesitant moment, placed her small, trembling hand into Albedo's.
Albedo's smile was victorious. "A wise choice."
A golden portal swirled open behind them. Without a backward glance at the ruins of the old Targaryen dream, Albedo led the last Daughter of the Conquerors through the Gate, delivering her to the future emperor of the world.
XxX
The Chaos Gacha is so good I don't have to create a list of items and skills anymore and I can effortlessly steal someone else's hard labor.