Logout Error: My NPCs Now Worship Me

The [Gate] that Kaelus opened for the Baron was not the grand, stable portal he had used. It was a vicious, tearing rift in reality, spitting the nobleman out onto the cold flagstones of his own castle courtyard in Oakhaven. The guards on patrol screamed in alarm, leveling their spears at the man who had appeared from nowhere before they recognized his face.

Or what was left of it.

Baron Valerius was a mess. His fine clothes were in tatters, his eyes were wide with a madness that would never fully leave him, and branded onto his forehead, glowing with a faint, malevolent crimson light, was a symbol none of them had ever seen before: the mark of the Silent Sovereign.

"The Baron! He's returned!" one guard shouted.

"By the gods, his face! What is that mark?" another whispered in horror.

Valerius scrambled to his feet, his limbs shaking uncontrollably. He didn't speak to the guards. He shoved past them, a man possessed, and sprinted into his own manor, his frantic footsteps echoing in the night. He burst into his war room, where his Captain of the Guard was anxiously poring over a map of the plains.

"My Lord!" the Captain exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Where have you been? We thought—"

"Cancel it," the Baron croaked, his voice raw. He slammed his hands on the table, his entire body trembling. "Cancel the scouting party. Cancel everything."

The Captain stared, bewildered. "But my Lord, the threat… the anomaly…"

"You call it an anomaly?" Valerius let out a wild, unhinged laugh. "I have stood in its throne room! I have felt its presence! You don't send a scouting party to investigate a hurricane! You don't send knights to 'quantify' a plague! We are ants, Captain! Ants arguing about the boot that is about to fall!"

He pointed a shaking finger at his own branded forehead. "This is a message! This is a mark of ownership!"

Through the mark, miles away in the depths of his Tomb, Kaelus watched and listened. The Baron's terror was a delicious symphony, a perfect conduit for information. He saw the shocked face of the guard captain, the fear spreading amongst the household staff who had gathered at the door. It was working flawlessly.

"Send a rider to the capital," the Baron commanded, his voice gaining a hysterical edge. "No, send ten! They must know! They must be warned!" He grabbed a piece of parchment, his hands shaking so violently he could barely hold the quill. "The message is this: A new power has risen in the eastern plains. Its name is Kaelus. It sees all. It knows all. And it has made its first demand."

The Captain leaned in, his face pale. "What demand, my Lord?"

The Baron looked up, and through his eyes, Kaelus saw the reflection of the room. But in the depths of the Baron's pupils, Kaelus saw the true message he had imprinted on the man's soul.

"Servitude," the Baron whispered, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. "Or annihilation."

Back in the Great Tomb of Nexus…

Kaelus dismissed the connection to the Baron, severing the feed. The puppet had delivered his message. Now, he would let the pieces fall where they may. The Kingdom of Elysia and its precious Church of the Sacred Light would react, and their reaction would determine their fate.

He turned his attention back to the present. Spidy was looking particularly pleased with herself, preening under the praise for her successful mission. She had taken a step closer to the throne, well within his personal space, her seductive, eight-eyed gaze fixed on his shadowed helm.

"Was my gift to your liking, my Lord?" she purred, her voice a low, intimate murmur. "There is so much more I could bring you. The secrets of kings, the hearts of queens… all you have to do is ask."

Her proximity was a deliberate challenge. A statement to the other women in the Tomb.

And it was a challenge that was not going unanswered.

From the entrance of the throne room, two figures approached. It was Gravity and Flora. They had clearly been waiting, listening.

Gravity's expression was one of icy disapproval. Her elegant stride was stiff, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. A faint distortion in the air around Spidy's feet suggested she was exerting a minute gravitational field, trying to make the rogue stumble.

Flora, by contrast, wore her sweetest, most beatific smile. But her eyes, fixed on Spidy, held a chilling emptiness. As she walked, a single, beautiful crimson rose bloomed from the stone floor at her feet, a flower so vibrant it seemed to pulse with life. Then, as she passed it, the rose withered and turned to black dust. It was a silent, potent threat.

"Spidy," Gravity's voice was as cold as the void between stars. "You overstep your bounds. The Lord Kaelus gave you a task, not an invitation to slither all over his throne room like some common back-alley strumpet."

Spidy laughed, a husky, teasing sound. "Oh, Gravy, don't be so stiff. I was merely ensuring our Lord was pleased. Unlike some of us, I believe in providing tangible results, not just floating around theorizing about the 'fabric of reality'." She flicked her wrist, and a nearly invisible thread of silk shot out, snagging one of the floating motes of starlight near Gravity's head and pulling it towards her. A petty, insulting gesture.

"Why, you insolent arachnid…!" Gravity's eyes began to glow with purple energy. The pressure in the room mounted.

"Now, now, ladies," Flora chimed in, her voice like tinkling bells. "There's no need to fight. We should all be working together to please Lord Kaelus." She smiled wider, turning to Spidy. "For instance, dear Spidy, while you were out playing with that mortal, I was busy in my gardens. I've developed a new strain of pollen. It's quite lovely. Odorless, colorless. Once inhaled, it induces a state of complete paralysis, while keeping the mind perfectly aware as parasitic fungi slowly digest you from the inside out. I could let you have a look, if you like? Get up close?"

Spidy's playful smile faltered for a fraction of a second. She knew Flora's threats were never idle. "No, thank you, darling. I prefer my insides just as they are."

Ravi, or rather Kaelus, watched this unfold from his throne. This was the harem dynamic he had written, amplified to a terrifying degree. Gravity's possessive, intellectual jealousy versus Spidy's seductive, physical possessiveness versus Flora's obsessive, yandere-style devotion. It was a three-way standoff between a black hole, a black widow, and a venus flytrap.

Part of him, the schadenfreude-loving part that enjoyed internet drama, was morbidly entertained. The other, more sensible part was screaming internally. They're going to kill each other! I have to stop this!

He didn't need to raise a hand this time. He just let out a breath.

It was a quiet sound, but amplified by the magic of his being, it was like the sigh of a slumbering god. It was a sound of disappointment.

It cut through their animosity more effectively than any shout could.

The three women froze, their conflict instantly forgotten. They turned to him, their faces a mixture of shock and shame. They had displeased him. It was the worst possible outcome.

"My Lord…" Gravity began, her voice losing all its cold fury. "Forgive my outburst. This lowly one allowed her emotions to—"

"I am disappointed," Kaelus's voice was not angry. It was worse. It was weary. As if their squabbling was a tiresome, childish distraction from his grand, cosmic concerns. "I am surrounded by beings of immense power. Guardians capable of toppling nations. And you bicker like fishwives in a market."

He let the words hang in the air, each one a heavy weight on their souls.

"Your rivalries are… pointless," he continued, his tone flat. "Your value to me is not determined by who can stand the closest to my throne or who can offer the most cutting insult. It is determined by your utility. Your results."

He stood, his towering form once again commanding their absolute attention. He looked at each of them in turn.

"Spidy. You brought me a valuable asset. That has utility."

Spidy preened, a flicker of victory in her eyes.

"Gravity. Your mastery of spacetime allows me to project my power anywhere in this world. That has utility."

Gravity straightened, her pride restored.

"Flora. Your command of life and death can turn any battlefield into my personal garden. That has utility."

Flora beamed, her deadly intentions momentarily forgotten.

"But this," he said, gesturing to the three of them, "This has no utility. It is a weakness. And I do not tolerate weakness in my house."

His final words were not a suggestion. They were a decree, etched into the very foundation of their being. They bowed their heads as one, a profound understanding passing between them. They could compete. They could vie for his favor. But they had to do it through their actions, through their accomplishments. Openly fighting in his presence was now a line they knew never to cross again.

"Now, leave me," Kaelus commanded, sitting back down on his throne. "I have much to contemplate."

The three women, humbled and thoughtful, bowed deeply before turning and departing, leaving their master in the profound silence he seemed to prefer.

As they walked down the grand corridor, for the first time, there was no open animosity between them. There was a tense, grudging respect. A new set of rules had been established. The game had changed.

And alone on his throne, Ravi let out an internal sigh of relief. He had survived another round of harem-management-from-hell.

Now, he could focus on the future. The Kingdom of Elysia was warned. The Church of the Sacred Light was provoked. The pieces were moving on the board.

His gaze drifted to the [Divine Power] interface. The number had not changed.

[Current DP: 2.01]

It was still pitifully low. The fear of a city was worth practically nothing. The Baron's terror had given him a useful puppet, but not the power he craved.

He needed worship. Pure, unadulterated, awe-filled worship.

And he had an idea of just how to get it. He would give the people of this world a new story. Not a myth whispered in a tavern, but an undeniable, public miracle. He would save them from a threat so great, they would have no choice but to fall to their knees and pray to the one who had saved them.

And he knew, with chilling certainty, that if such a threat didn't exist, he had more than enough power to create one.