The Supreme World Conqueror

Chapter 41: The Obsidian Capital

Emberstone Fortress, Tidor's dark heart, was now the Archducal capital of Helimdor. The siege-scarred walls had been repaired, the obsidian spires now flown with the roaring lion banner of House Adraels. Yet, the air still held the memory of Tidor's tyranny and the acrid smell of burnt rock and blood. Don, however, saw not a conquered fortress, but a raw, unyielding foundation for his new empire.

He sat at the head of a massive, polished stone table in what was once Tidor's war room. The room had been stripped of its gruesome artifacts and now served as the heart of the Obsidian Court. Around the table were the most powerful men and women in Helimdor: his father, Earl Dunnel, the newly appointed Lord Regent; his generals, Medrin and Asdrin; his new commanders, Earl Varant and Earl Valerius; the vengeance-driven Earl Dornel Hailch; and his three Empresses, Caria, Callara, and Marell, who sat together, a powerful and undeniable symbol of Don's authority.

"The war is not over," Don stated, his voice calm, his dark eyes sweeping over each face. "We have shattered Tidor and repelled the Pale Wraith. But the Crown watches us with suspicion, and the other Ducal Houses of Warsenbrenn await our next move. They expect us to be consumed by internal squabbles and the chaos of our conquests. We will show them the opposite."

He gestured to the sprawling map of Helimdor. "Our victory was not an end, but a beginning. Now, we build. Our first task is to transform this fortress from a monument to a tyrant's ambition into a true capital for a unified people."

He looked at Earl Dunnel. "Father, as Lord Regent, the burden of governance falls to you. We need to integrate the lands of the defeated, restore trade, and ensure the prosperity of our people. I want this land to be a beacon, not a ghost of its past."

Dunnel nodded, a grim satisfaction on his face. "I will ensure the blood runs clean and the gold flows where it should, my son."

Don then turned to Medrin and Earl Varant. "Our forces are unified, but their training is not. I want a War Academy established here in the Iron Hills. A place where the Gryphon riders, the Black Horned Lions, and the Dire Wolves can train as one. Where every man is forged into a disciplined, unyielding warrior of the Obsidian Court. Medrin, you will command it."

"It will be the most fearsome fighting force the world has ever seen," Medrin declared, his eyes alight with fire.

Don looked to Grand Magister Jhesarwan, who sat thoughtfully stroking his beard. "Grand Magister, Tidor used the earth's power and the corruption of the Wraith. You will lead a team of mages and scholars to study the magical energies of these lands. We will understand the Pale Wraith, the arcane wards, and every buried secret this domain holds. I want to build a Grand Magisterium here, a place of arcane research to elevate our magical strength."

"An intriguing challenge, my lord," Jhesarwan replied, a rare glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

Don's gaze then settled on Caria. "My queen, your insight into the Wraith was invaluable. We need to understand the boundaries of its influence and the nature of the entity we shattered. Your magical senses are our keenest tool. Work with the Grand Magister to ensure we never face such a threat unaware again."

Caria's emerald eyes met his, a silent current of shared power passing between them. "As you command, my emperor. We will uncover every secret."

Next, Don turned to Earl Valerius. "Admiral, the seas must be secure. Your Sky-Serpents are now the eyes of our coastlines. Establish patrols, open new trade routes, and protect our merchants. Our wealth will be our strength, and our Sky-Serpents will be its guardians."

Valerius nodded, a flicker of pride on his cautious face.

Finally, Don looked to Earl Dornel Hailch. "Earl Dornel, your people know this land better than any. Your thirst for vengeance is now my strength. I want you to lead expeditions to the unexplored reaches of our new domain. Map the territories, uncover forgotten resources, and bring back the knowledge we need to grow."

Dornel knelt, his voice filled with a powerful new purpose. "You honor my house, my lord. We will be your pioneers."

As the meeting concluded, the lords and Empresses of the Obsidian Court moved with a renewed sense of purpose. Emberstone Fortress was a hive of activity, its new masters transforming it from a symbol of tyranny into a foundation of power.

Later that night, in the privacy of their chambers, Don stood with his three queens. Caria was beside him, a constant, blazing presence. Callara, a proud warrior, stood a short distance away, her gray eyes observing his every move. And Marell, serene and ethereal, looked out the window at the distant sea.

He walked to Callara, placing a hand on her cheek. He could feel her warrior's spirit, her pride. "You are the strength of the mountains, my queen. Your pride will be the foundation of our military might." He leaned in and kissed her softly, a possessive yet respectful claim.

He then moved to Marell, taking her hand. "You are the serenity of the skies, my queen. Your grace will guide our ambitions." He raised her hand to his lips, a gentle claiming of her allegiance.

He then turned to Caria, pulling her close, her body a perfect fit against his. The Black Flame hummed with satisfaction, fully awake and in command. She was his beginning, his core, the source of his true power.

"The foundation has been laid," Don murmured, his eyes blazing with a singular ambition. "The southern kingdom is ours. Now, we build the walls of our empire. And no one, not the Crown, not the other Dukes, not even gods or kings, will stand in our way."

Helimdor was forged, and its Archduke was ready to build.