Lord of the Foresaken

Reed sat on the throne of a dead man.

Lord Darin's fortress was now his. The banners of the nobles had been ripped down, replaced with nothing—because Reed wasn't a noble. He was a conqueror.

His new "vassals" knelt before him, their pride shattered. Lady Velka, Lord Hadrin, and Lord Felix. The only survivors of the noble gathering.

They had chosen to live.

Now, Reed would teach them what that truly meant.

Reed leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. "Swearing loyalty isn't enough," he said. "I don't trust words."

Velka's silver eyes narrowed. "What do you want, then?"

Reed grinned. "A ritual."

Shia stepped forward, carrying a stone bowl filled with dark liquid. Blood.

Noble blood.

Velka's expression hardened. "You want us to drink that?"

Reed chuckled. "No."

He stood, stepping down from his throne, walking right up to her. He gripped her chin, tilting her head up.

"You're going to kneel, bow your heads to me, and let my goblins mark you."

The nobles stiffened.

"Mark?" Lord Felix's voice shook.

Shia smirked. "A little cut. A little scar. Nothing compared to what happens if you refuse."

Reed looked at them, enjoying their silence.

"Loyalty," he said softly, "is written in blood."

Velka clenched her fists. Then, slowly… she lowered her head.

"I accept."

The others followed immediately.

Shia grinned. "Wise choice."

The goblins moved in.

One by one, each noble's forehead was marked—a single cut, smeared with blood. The goblins chanted in their guttural tongue, sealing the ritual.

When it was over, Velka exhaled sharply, shaking with rage.

She looked up at Reed. "Are you satisfied?"

Reed smiled. "Not yet."

Reed turned, walking toward the fortress balcony. Below, the remnants of the noble army—**once Darin's men, now his captives—**stood in chains.

Hundreds of them.

Trained fighters.

Useless to him as they were.

Reed glanced at Velka. "How many of them are truly loyal to you?"

She hesitated. "Most. Some may resist, but—"

Reed raised a hand.

Goblins dragged out ten random soldiers. Threw them to their knees.

Velka's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

Reed looked at her. Cold. Unforgiving. "Proving a point."

He turned to the captives. "If you wish to live, kneel."

The soldiers hesitated.

One man—**older, hardened—**spat at Reed's feet. "I serve no monster."

Reed sighed.

He nodded to Shia.

She moved like a ghost.

One second, the soldier was kneeling. The next, his head was rolling across the dirt.

Blood sprayed.

The remaining nine soldiers immediately dropped to their knees.

Velka's face was pale.

Reed smirked. "Now I'm satisfied."