Chapter Thirteen: The Elven Conquest
The map flickered before Crow's eyes, a detailed scan pulled from his Eye of Insight skill.
To the northwest, nestled in a hidden valley shielded by enchanted forests, was an isolated city:
[City: Sylveria]
[Population: 512 Elves — All Female]
[Combat Ranks: 100+ S-Rank, 400+ B-Rank, 11 C-Rank]
[Special Note: City is under weakened World Barrier due to Game Fusion Instability]
Crow leaned back against the broken stone throne he had claimed, his fingers tapping thoughtfully against the armrest.
A city of elite elves.
Rare, powerful, and utterly valuable.
In the old world, entire guild wars were fought just for the chance to form alliances with one or two high-ranked elves.
Now, he had a chance to seize them all.
And he wasn't interested in negotiating.
He wanted them loyal.
He wanted them his.
Crow shifted his gaze sideways.
Sasha stood silently nearby, her golden sword sheathed across her back, her hands resting lightly on the hilt.
She clung close as usual, never more than a breath away from him.
"Sasha," Crow said calmly.
The divine swordswoman straightened immediately, violet eyes shining with expectation.
"I want Sylveria," he said. "Bring it to me."
Sasha's expression barely flickered.
She dropped to one knee instantly, bowing her head.
"As you command, Master," she said.
The sword at her back flared with divine light.
Without waiting for another word, she shot into the sky like a falling star rising backwards — a streak of gold tearing through the air toward the distant valley.
Crow leaned back again, his expression unreadable.
Seraphina stood to his right, silent and sharpening her ghostly blade.
Lyravex sat curled on his left side, resting her head against his knee, half-dozing, but her senses still locked onto him.
Minutes passed.
Then — a ripple.
From the distant horizon, the skies darkened, twisting as if a great storm was descending.
But it wasn't a storm.
It was Sasha.
And behind her...
Crow could see them.
Hundreds of figures flying, floating, running — some struggling, others dazed, but none resisting.
Elves.
Elegant, beautiful, and fierce even in their captured state.
Some still clutched shattered weapons.
Some wore remnants of armor cracked by divine power.
But none had escaped.
Not a single one.
Sasha landed lightly before him, kneeling once more.
"Master," she said, her voice soft and respectful, "I have brought your prizes."
The elves were forced to their knees by the weight of Sasha's divine aura, forming neat rows before Crow's throne.
The S-Rank elites, proud and powerful, glared up at him — but their bodies trembled, not from anger, but from suppressed fear.
The B-Ranks and C-Ranks whimpered, overwhelmed.
Crow stood slowly.
His golden eyes swept across the gathered elves.
Hundreds of talented, beautiful soldiers.
And now... they belonged to him.
He smiled slightly.
"From this day forward," Crow said, voice low and absolute, "you are mine."
The elves shivered under the crushing weight of his will.
And not a single one dared to speak against him.
The conquest had only just begun.
Chapter Thirteen End