Rank three. Well, formerly rank three.
Jeremiah Smith stared at the ranking screen floating before him, his jaw clenched as the numbers refreshed for the third time in as many minutes. The system was rarely wrong, but when it was, it usually corrected itself quickly. This time it did not.
Rank 3: Aldwin EverettGift: Past Life EmbodimentContribution Points: 3,421,118
Rank 4: Jeremiah SmithGift: 100 Percent Drop RateContribution Points: 3,109,874
Jeremiah exhaled slowly and leaned back against the reinforced wall of his mobile command center. The structure had once been a logistics warehouse, now converted into a fortified hub filled with merchants, guards, and summoned creatures of all kinds. He had built his power carefully, methodically, leveraging his gift to acquire resources no one else could match. Magical items, rare cores, artifacts pulled from monsters that should never have dropped them. He had assumed that raw accumulation would keep him near the top indefinitely.
Apparently, he had underestimated Aldwin Everett.
Across from him stood Marticio Azul, the Vampire Noble. The man looked calm as ever, pale skin unblemished, crimson eyes reflecting the system screen with mild interest. He was dressed in dark aristocratic attire that would have looked absurd in the old world but now felt strangely appropriate.
"So the rankings are correct," Jeremiah said at last. "No glitch. No delay."
Marticio inclined his head slightly. "They are correct. I had my analysts verify them across three different system interfaces."
Jeremiah clicked his tongue. "That fast. I knew he was active, but this is ridiculous. Taking down a lich that served a higher entity, claiming the rift, securing the phylactery, and then pushing into demon controlled territory right after."
"He did more than that," Marticio replied. "He consolidated. Humans, dark elves, goliaths, demons. He turned a war zone into a functioning domain."
Jeremiah glanced at him sharply. "You sound impressed."
"I am," Marticio said without hesitation. "And cautious."
That single word carried weight.
Jeremiah folded his arms. "You are suggesting an alliance."
"I am suggesting survival," Marticio corrected. "If Aldwin Everett continues expanding at this rate, independent powers like ours will eventually have to choose. Stand apart and hope he ignores us, or align early and negotiate favorable terms."
Jeremiah frowned. "You think he wants to rule."
Marticio smiled faintly. "He already is. He simply does not announce it the way others would."
That thought lingered uncomfortably.
Far from Jeremiah's territory, Aldwin Everett stood atop the remnants of a collapsed watchtower, overlooking the lands he now considered his responsibility.
The air smelled faintly of salt and rain, though the nearest ocean was hundreds of kilometers away. Mana saturated the atmosphere here, drawn into the invisible currents that swirled around him. The Tidecaller's staff rested in his grasp, its sapphire core pulsing in a slow, steady rhythm that matched his breathing.
Rank three.
The system notification had been brief, almost understated, but the consequences were anything but.
Behind him, the town had changed. What was once a broken settlement now showed signs of structure. Reinforced walls crafted from scavenged steel and demon hardened wood. Watch posts manned by humans and dark elves alike. Patrols that moved with discipline rather than desperation.
Demons walked openly among them.
Hatch stood near the gate, his massive axe resting against his shoulder as he oversaw training drills with a mixed unit of humans and lesser demons. His injuries from earlier battles had healed, though scars remained as marks of honor.
Flambe lounged near the central reservoir, coils partially submerged in enchanted water that helped regulate his internal heat. He watched the skies more often than the ground, ever alert.
Pietrov's puppets moved silently through alleyways, maintaining order without intimidation. Damascus had taken root near the town's edge, his demonic treants forming a living barrier that deterred most incursions.
Aldwin turned as footsteps approached.
Farid, leader of the dark elves, bowed slightly. "Scouts report no immediate threats within a fifty kilometer radius. The gnoll presence has collapsed entirely. Smaller rifts remain, but nothing organized."
"Good," Aldwin replied. His voice was calm, but his eyes were distant. "That gives us breathing room."
"Planning something?" Farid asked.
"Yes," Aldwin said simply. "Expansion."
Farid studied him carefully. "Horizontally, or vertically."
A faint smile tugged at Aldwin's lips. "Both."
Later that night, Aldwin sat alone within the summoning chamber. The room had once been an underground parking structure. Now it was carved with ritual arrays, blood channels etched into reinforced stone, and mana anchors stabilized by both demonic and elven magic.
The air thrummed with power.
Within him, Mulligan stirred.
"You are thinking bigger now," the First Rate Wizard observed. "Territory alone is not enough."
"No," Aldwin agreed. "We need dominance of the sky and the water."
Verakul's presence rolled beneath that thought, vast and instinctual. Control all vectors. Predators strike from above and below.
Aldwin closed his eyes and focused.
"Aramak," he said quietly.
The response was immediate.
The space before him distorted, shadows bending inward until a towering figure emerged. Horned, regal, eyes burning with infernal amusement.
"Demon King of the Tides," Aramak rumbled. "You grow bold."
"I grow prepared," Aldwin replied. "I need more."
Aramak laughed, a sound like grinding stone and distant thunder. "You already command captains and barons. You build an army where kings would hesitate."
"I want demons specialized in flight," Aldwin said. "Scouts, aerial enforcers, rapid response units. I also want demons that can fight in water. Rivers, lakes, submerged rifts."
Aramak nodded slowly. "A logical evolution. Your territory touches many fault lines. Control the air and water, and you control movement."
"What are the costs?" Aldwin asked.
"Blood," Aramak said plainly. "And intent. You are no longer summoning servants. You are declaring yourself a power worthy of notice."
Aldwin's grip tightened on the Tidecaller's staff.
"I am aware."
The summoning began at dawn.
Blood collected from slain invaders and monsters flowed into the channels, glowing faintly as the arrays activated. Mana surged outward, pressing against the boundaries of reality itself.
The first portal opened with a shrill cry as winged shapes tore through.
Sky demons, their forms lean and aerodynamic, wings like blades of shadow and membrane. Some bore spears crackling with lightning. Others wielded sonic shrieks capable of shattering bone.
They circled above the town, awaiting command.
The second portal opened beneath the water reservoir.
From it emerged aquatic demons, scaled and sleek, eyes adapted to murky depths. Some wielded tridents formed from condensed mana. Others carried no weapons at all, their bodies the weapons.
Flambe hissed approvingly.
Hatch grinned, tusks flashing. "This is starting to feel like home."
Aldwin watched it all with measured satisfaction.
Notifications flooded his vision.
New Demon Units AcquiredTerritory Influence ExpandedThreat Level IncreasedWorld Attention: Elevated
Somewhere far away, entities far older and stronger took note.
Jeremiah Smith would soon receive confirmation that expansion had begun.
Marticio Azul would understand that the tides were shifting.
And Aldwin Everett, Demon King of the Tides, took another step forward.
Not toward conquest for its own sake.
But toward a world where survival would no longer be a matter of luck.
Only strength.