[Chapter 169. The Lord’s First Walk]

Searanox stepped out of the central atrium, the air of the tower finally giving way to the open atmosphere of the city. He came to a halt beneath the first of the massive flying buttresses that supported the Magitech fortress tower. The obsidian-like stone curved over him like the ribs of some prehistoric titan. From this elevated vantage point, his gaze swept over the landscape. Beneath the eternal shadow of the tower, the city—his city—sprawled across his entire field of vision in a geometric display of power and precision.

"How do I introduce myself to hundreds of thousands of people?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper against the low hum of the city’s energy. He stood perfectly still, his hands resting at his sides, not turning back toward Iris, who stood in the darkness of the doorway behind him.

"The answer is simple," Iris answered, her voice carrying that familiar, steady cadence. "You don't. The System already announced your name and your guild when it birthed this place into existence. Every soul out there knows who claimed this node. Let their own fear and curiosity do the heavy lifting for you. You are here to lead, Searanox; you do not pander to your citizens, nor do you seek their approval."

Searanox turned to face her, and a flicker of a smile crossed his lips—a rare, genuine thing that softened the harsh lines of his face for a fleeting second. "Good answer," he conceded. He turned back to the horizon, his hand motioning toward a smaller, secondary spire in the middle distance. It pulsed with a rhythmic, violet light that stood out against the old Asian architecture of the residential blocks. "What is that, Iris? It looks significant."

"That is one of the city's Dungeon Spire, also known as a Teleportation Spire in the wider multiverse," Iris explained, stepping forward into the light. Her silver eyes tracked the spire’s glow. "It is where the city's integrated dungeons are located. You can view it as the primary hub for the population’s daily grind, Searanox. It is where they will earn the points required to survive under the laws you have set."

"Then we will go there next," Searanox said, his expression hardening. "I want to see the quality of the 'content' the System has provided before I head out to clear the other external dungeons that have been sitting idle while I was unconscious."

He turned on his heel and began walking toward the massive, thirty-meter gate that sealed the central citadel from the rest of the districts. His footsteps on the pristine granite echoed with a new, heavy purpose.

"You four—with me," he commanded, his gaze falling upon Lana, Carmen, Vanessa, and Sarah. They were standing near the inner wall’s entrance, their faces etched with a complex blend of awe and trepidation. They looked like statues against the dark wall, small and fragile in the presence of the Magitech architecture. "I want you to see this first-hand."

Iris fell into step immediately behind him. The four women exchanged a series of nervous, silent glances before quickly following. Their boots clicked rhythmically on the light-gray granite of the street, which was so clean it seemed to repel the dust of the old world. None of them dared to question him; the memory of the 'Frenzy' was still too fresh in their minds.

As Searanox approached the gate, it did not swing open on hinges. Instead, the colossal wall of black granite split vertically with a low, bone-shaking grinding groan. The stone slid into itself with terrifying precision, revealing a tunnel several meters deep that led toward the outer city sectors. He stepped through the opening, and the noise of the population hit him like a physical blow. The air, which had been silent within the inner parts of the city, was now thick with the roar of thirty thousand voices—a tidal wave of confusion, fear, grief, and disbelief.

The scene that greeted him was one of controlled chaos. People were wandering the streets, touching the walls of the new buildings as if expecting them to vanish like a mirage. Some were weeping, others were arguing over space, but the moment Searanox emerged from the citadel, a ripple of silence began to spread.

He walked through the crowd, and like a sea parting before a predator, the people scrambled to get out of his way. They didn't just move; they recoiled. Their gazes lingered on him, heavy with a mixture of hatred and desperate hope. He could feel their eyes tracing the scars on his gear and the cold set of his jaw.

After several minutes of walking through the press of bodies, the progress became too slow for his liking. He summoned his travel drones in a flash of blue light. Iris was behind him and mounted the drone before he could even tell her to get on. As the drone lifted off, her soft fur nuzzled deeply into the crook of his neck. A sharp, playful nip followed, a silent reminder that she was the only one in this city who wasn't afraid of him.

They flew over the rooftops toward the Dungeon Spire. From the air, Searanox could see the scale of the gathering. A few thousand people had already gravitated toward the spire’s base, instinctively drawn to the source of the violet light.

"Make way!" Searanox proclaimed as his drone touched down at the base of the spire. His voice wasn't a shout, but it carried a weight that cut through the murmurs of the crowd. "I will inspect the tower and its dungeons before I allow any of you to enter."

An angry, frustrated shout erupted from the mass of people near the front. "And who gave you the right to tell us what to do!"

Searanox turned his head toward the speaker—a middle-aged man with a dirt-streaked face and a rusted pipe in his hand. The moment their eyes met, Searanox dismounted the drone. The crowd instinctively pressed backward, creating a wide circle around him.

"Unknown dungeons are deadly," Searanox said, his voice flat. "It would be wise to let someone with experience enter first, unless you'd prefer the first few hundred deaths of this city to be on your conscience."

Suddenly, a strange, electric tingle ran down Searanox’s spine—not once, but a dozen times over. The sensation was hauntingly familiar; it was the exact feeling he had experienced when Thomas’s men had tried to peer into his Status. Someone—or rather, many people—were trying to 'Scan' him.

The sensation passed as quickly as it had come, replaced by a chorus of gasps from the crowd. A dozen people recoiled at once, their eyes widening until the whites showed. A panicked murmur broke out, spreading like wildfire through the ranks of the survivors.

"For who gave me the right..." Searanox continued, his voice dripping with a cold, terrifying indifference. He took a step toward the man with the pipe. "I gave myself that right. In my city, I may do as I please. If you find my leadership lacking, the gates are open. You are free to test your luck with the beasts outside."

By the looks on their faces, he knew exactly what they had seen. While he wasn't sure if they could see his full Status or just the terrifying level discrepancy, it was clearly enough to inflict a deep, paralyzing fear. The man with the pipe lowered his weapon, his hands shaking so violently the metal clattered against the stone.

"Lord Searanox..." a rough, hesitant voice called out from the side. An elderly man stepped forward, he was roughly the same age as Wolfgang and Jürgen. The man was not that old but he was one of the oldest Searanox had seen ever since the System had decedent upon this world. "May I ask... how did you build this city? How is any of this possible?"

"By not sitting idle," Searanox replied without looking at him. "And by almost dying every single day while the rest of the world waited for a miracle. There are no miracles here, only the results of violence."

"Lord Searanox... is it safe here?" a woman asked, clutching a small child to her chest.

Searanox paused at the threshold of the spire. He looked back at her, his shades reflecting the violet glow of the tower. "It’s as safer as any other place that is surrounded by beasts that want to eat you. Which is to say, it is probably the most safest place that currently exists. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

He turned his back on them and entered the spire.

The interior was a vast, circular chamber that felt more like a cathedral than a fortress. The walls were made of smooth, seamless dark granite, polished to such a high, mirror-like sheen that they reflected the violet light of the energy conduits pulsing deep within the stone. The ceiling soared into the darkness, broken by several open platforms that connected to a central column via narrow, floating walkways.

Shimmering portals of various sizes and hues lined the outer walls of each level. Each one was a swirling vortex of energy, identical to the gates they had encountered in the ruins. This was the heart of the city's growth. Searanox stood in the center of the chamber, his boots echoing on the floor. He could almost feel the weight of the history this room would eventually hold—the thousands of lives that would be forged, or shattered, within these gates.

He looked from one gate to the next. To his surprise, every single one on the ground floor displayed the same information.

The four women followed him into the chamber, their footsteps sounding frantic and hollow against the stone. Lana’s eyes were wide, her hand resting on the hilt of her short sword as she peered into the shadows. Carmen was already approaching the walls, her fingers hovering just inches from the granite as she tried to deconstruct the magitech architecture with her mind. Vanessa stared at the portals with a calculating, hungry gaze, while Sarah hovered near the entrance, looking as though she wanted to merge with the shadows and disappear.

"Iris, why are they all the same?" Searanox asked, gesturing to the row of identical portals.

"It is simple," Iris explained, standing directly behind him. Her presence was a grounding force in the alien room. "This city is not yet of a high enough level to possess more than one type of dungeon. However, a City Dungeon does not hold the same restrictions as those found in the wilderness. It can be challenged by multiple groups simultaneously, as each portal is merely an entrance to a localized instance. It is a scaled-down version of its wild counterparts—weaker, less dangerous, and designed for high-volume training."

"I would like to test that theory," Searanox said. He turned to face the four women, his expression unreadable. "Iris, you will enter one on your own. You four... you will form a party and do the same. I want a full report on the difficulty and the drop rates."

"As you wish, my Lord," Iris said. There was a teasing, feline lilt to her voice, and a satisfied smile played across her muzzle as she caught his eye.

The four women were not nearly as eager to follow the command, but the weight of Searanox’s gaze left them no room for protest. They began to check their gear, their movements stiff and mechanical. The last thing Searanox heard before approaching his own portal was the muffled murmur of the crowd outside and the sharp, low protest of Vanessa, which was quickly hushed by the other three.

Searanox stepped toward the swirling blue vortex of the 'Courtyard of the Dead.' He didn't hesitate. As he crossed the threshold, his perception flipped. The dim, violet-hued light of the tower vanished, replaced instantly by the cold, oppressive silver of a full moon.

He found himself standing on a gravel path. Before him, sprawling out under a bruised, purple sky, was a massive, dilapidated graveyard. Crooked tombstones rose from the earth like rotting teeth, and a thick, low-hanging mist curled around his boots. The air was deathly silent, save for the distant, rhythmic scraping of metal on stone.

Searanox drew his weapon, the moonlight glinting off the barrel. "Level five," he muttered, a cold grin touching his lips.