Chapter 75: Sovereign Claim

Chapter 75: Chapter 75: Sovereign Claim

The nine-foot-tall Dimensional Warlord simply raised his two-handed executioner’s sword, the magma-forged steel dripping with liquid hellfire, and stepped forward.

Despite his massive size, he crossed the fifty yards of muddy cavern floor in a fraction of a second. The ground violently melted beneath his boots. He swung the massive blade in a horizontal arc designed to cleave Donald and Evelyn in half simultaneously.

Evelyn stepped into the strike zone.

Her massive, sapphire-and-gold wings flared, anchoring her to the bedrock. She raised the Bloodhound’s Fang in a perfect, two-handed parry.

The impact of the two blades didn’t ring; it detonated.

A shockwave of violently opposed mana—pure celestial fire clashing against abyssal hellfire—exploded outward. The sheer concussive force vaporized the mud in a hundred-yard radius, leaving nothing but scorched stone. Back at the tunnel entrance, Julian Vane and his surviving Dragonheart elites were thrown off their feet by the wind pressure alone.

Evelyn’s boots ground two deep trenches into the solid stone floor, but she held the parry.

The Warlord’s glowing red eyes narrowed in genuine surprise. A Level 85 Abyssal General was used to crushing human Awakeners like insects. Finding a human whose physical density could match his own was an anomaly.

"Donald!" Evelyn grunted, the silver blade of her sword trembling under the colossal weight of the executioner’s blade.

"I’m on it," Donald said.

He didn’t flank the General. He stepped directly under the crossed blades.

The Warlord snarled, opening his massive jaw to unleash a point-blank blast of corrosive dark mana.

Nyx beat him to it.

The winged black cat launched from Donald’s shoulder, turning into a literal blur of shadow and gold. She dove straight into the Warlord’s open maw and phased entirely through the back of his magma-plated skull, emerging completely unharmed.

The Warlord gagged, his dark mana breath weapon instantly fizzling out in his throat.

[Familiar (Nyx) engaged target: Abyssal Warlord (Level 85).]

[Skill Triggered: Phantasmal Siphon.]

[Nyx has stolen: +35 Strength, +25 Speed, +30 Mana.]

[Transferring stats to Investor...]

Donald gasped. The influx of stolen Level 85 stats hit his newly upgraded baseline like a shot of pure adrenaline. His Strength temporarily shattered the 100-point ceiling, spiking to 106. His Speed hit 96. His Mana pool surged to an absurd 108.

For the first time since the System awakened, Donald didn’t just feel durable. He felt like a god.

With his Speed bordering on teleportation, Donald stepped into the Warlord’s guard. He drove his left hand forward, burying the titanium barrel of the Thunderclap Pile Bunker directly into the center of the General’s magma-forged breastplate.

"Deposit," Donald whispered.

He pulled the trigger, channeling a massive surge of his temporarily boosted 108 Mana directly into the B-Rank weapon’s thunder core to overcharge it.

The explosion was blinding.

A cataclysmic wave of hyper-compressed blue lightning detonated at point-blank range. The B-Rank titanium gauntlet warped from the extreme heat of its own overcharge, but the payload delivered perfectly.

The Warlord’s impenetrable magma armor violently shattered. The massive demon was lifted off his feet, his grip on the executioner’s sword breaking as he was launched backward through the air.

"Now, Evie!" Donald shouted, the recoil throwing him down to one knee as the stolen stats began to rapidly bleed out of his system.

Evelyn didn’t hesitate.

Freed from the blade-lock, the Valkyrie launched herself into the air. Her wings pulsed, propelling her upward at an impossible angle. She caught up to the airborne Warlord in a microsecond.

The Bloodhound’s Fang began to glow with a heat so intense the silver metal turned completely translucent, revealing a core of pure, burning star-fire.

[Divine Pulse] channeled every ounce of her S-Rank kinetic fury, compounding with the holy damage multiplier against the demonic entity.

"Get out of my city," Evelyn commanded.

She swung the sword in a flawless, full-circle vertical arc.

The celestial blade cleaved straight through the Warlord’s thick, armored neck. It didn’t stop there. The momentum carried the blade completely through his torso, bisecting the nine-foot demon in mid-air.

The two halves of the Abyssal Vanguard General hit the cavern floor. White holy fire instantly erupted from the severed flesh, burning the corrupted demonic remains to ash before the black blood could even stain the stone.

Silence slammed back down over the cavern.

Evelyn landed softly, her boots touching the scorched earth. Her wings faded into a shower of golden motes. She flicked her wrist, dismissing her sword, and took a deep, steadying breath.

Donald stood up, his left arm completely numb. The Thunderclap Pile Bunker was smoking heavily, the primary piston permanently warped from the overcharged blast. The weapon was ruined, but it had bought them the city.

Nyx fluttered down, landing on Donald’s ruined gauntlet, letting out a satisfied, rumbling purr.

A flurry of brilliant golden text flooded Donald’s vision.

[Dimensional Boss Defeated: Abyssal Warlord (Level 85).]

[Vanguard Clause Condition Met.]

[Royal Charter Overridden. The Abyssal Gate is now the sovereign territory of The Investment Guild.]

[Massive Experience Awarded.]

[Level Up!]

[Level Up!]

[Level Up!]

[Level Up!]

[Current Level: 20]

In the center of the ash pile where the General had fallen, a massive, perfectly spherical core the size of a grapefruit remained. It pulsed with a heavy, intoxicating blend of dark purple and bright gold mana.

Donald walked over and picked it up. The sheer magical density of the boss core warmed his gloves.

He turned around and walked toward the cavern exit.

Julian Vane and his eight surviving Dragonheart mercenaries were standing frozen at the mouth of the tunnel. Sylvia stood ten feet behind them, her tungsten daggers casually twirling in her hands, making sure none of the Capital elites tried to run or interfere.

Vane looked like a ghost. His immaculate silver hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and mud. He stared at the massive boss core in Donald’s hand, then looked at Evelyn, who was walking calmly beside her Investor.

They hadn’t just survived. They had completely, effortlessly dismantled a dimensional anomaly that would have required a Royal Army battalion to clear.

Donald stopped five feet away from the Dragonheart Emissary. He casually tossed the heavy boss core into the air and caught it.

"The Vanguard Clause has been fulfilled," Donald said, his voice echoing cleanly in the quiet cavern. "The boss is dead. The dungeon is cleared. Your Royal Charter is officially null and void."

Vane swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly. "You don’t understand what you just did. That wasn’t a standard dungeon boss. The Capital—"

"The Capital lost," Donald interrupted, his tone completely void of sympathy. "Genesis City is closed for Capital business, Julian. The Abyssal Gate belongs to the Investment Guild. The Iron Guild headquarters belongs to the Investment Guild. And as of an hour ago, the Crimson Lotus belongs to the Investment Guild."

Vane’s head snapped up. "What did you just say?"

"Malcor is out," Donald smiled behind his mask. "His accounts are frozen. Which means you have absolutely no local leverage left in this city."

Donald looked past Vane, making brief eye contact with Sylvia. He gave the assassin a subtle, almost invisible nod.

Sylvia’s violet eyes widened slightly beneath her mask. She understood the play. Malcor was neutralized, her magical contract was broken, and the Vanguard Clause was complete. Donald had secured the city.

The next step was the Capital. The next step was her brother.

Donald looked back down at the ruined Emissary.

"Take your surviving men," Donald ordered coldly. "Walk out of my dungeon. Get on your private jet, and fly back to the Capital. Tell the Royal Guilds that Genesis City is under new management. If you or your Enchanters set foot in my territory again, I won’t just break your barrier. I’ll break your Guild."

Vane opened his mouth to issue a threat, to lean on his aristocratic pride, but the words died in his throat. He looked at Evelyn. The Valkyrie’s blue eyes promised absolute, immediate violence if he hesitated.

Vane slowly turned around. "Fall back," he rasped to his terrified men.

The Dragonheart survivors didn’t need to be told twice. They practically sprinted up the tunnel, dragging their wounded, desperate to escape the suffocating presence of the independent S-Rank.

Vane took one last look at Donald, a look of pure, unadulterated venom, before turning and following his men into the dark.

Donald watched them go, tossing the massive boss core one more time.

Evelyn stepped up next to him, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. "They’re gone. But he’s going to come back, Donald. The Capital doesn’t just walk away from an embarrassment like this."

"I’m counting on it," Donald said softly. He pulled out the glowing boss core, admiring the raw power trapped inside the crystal. He turned to Sylvia, who was stepping out of the shadows. "Because we aren’t going to wait for them to come back."

Sylvia pulled down her black half-mask, her violet eyes burning with a mixture of raw hope and absolute determination.

"Pack your bags," Donald said, looking between the two women. "We just secured our supply line. Tomorrow, the Investment Guild is taking a business trip to the Capital."