Lord of the Foresaken

The Summoning Hall was no longer a place of ceremony. It was a graveyard.

Reed sat on the grand mage's chair—the highest seat in the room—leaning back as he observed his new prisoners. The nobles who had survived the massacre knelt before him, their fine robes now torn and stained with blood.

The fear in their eyes was delicious.

Shia stood beside him, her daggers still wet with fresh kills. The goblins prowled around the hall, looting corpses, gnawing on scraps of noble flesh, and fighting over gold trinkets like rabid animals.

Pathetic creatures.

But they were his pathetic creatures.

And they were evolving.

Another system message appeared.

[Goblin Horde Has Absorbed Noble Magic Residue]

[Several Goblins Have Reached Rank E]

Reed's eyes narrowed.

They can evolve just by existing in a battlefield?

That changed everything.

The world had labeled goblins as weak. But if they had the potential to grow, if he could mold them into something more…

Then he wouldn't just survive.

He would conquer.

Reed turned his gaze back to the nobles. Some were openly weeping. Others simply stared at the floor, too broken to resist.

Good.

"You all have a choice," Reed said, his voice cutting through the heavy silence.

"Choice?" One noble, a young man with bruises on his face, glared at him. "You think we'll serve a filthy criminal like you?"

Reed's response was simple.

He snapped his fingers.

Shia moved in an instant, stepping behind the noble before he could react.

A dagger to the throat. A quick slash.

Blood gushed out. The noble gasped, his hands shaking as he collapsed.

Reed let the body hit the floor before he spoke again.

"That was the wrong answer."

The remaining nobles trembled.

"Let me explain how things work now." Reed's voice was calm, almost bored. "You're no longer lords. You're property. You'll work for me, feed my army, and contribute to my rise."

One noble woman sobbed. "We're not—"

Reed held up a hand.

"If you resist, you die," he continued, unfazed. "If you obey, you live. Simple, isn't it?"

No one spoke.

Then, slowly, one of the nobles—a frail-looking man—lowered his head.

"…I'll serve."

Reed smiled. "Smart."

One by one, the others broke. Some whispered their surrender. Others simply nodded, too terrified to speak.

And just like that, they belonged to him.

Reed rose from his stolen throne, stretching his arms. "Shia, have the goblins drag them back to our domain. I want them put to work immediately."

Shia bowed. "As you command, my lord."

Reed glanced at the corpses littering the floor, then at the bloodstained walls of the Summoning Hall.

This place was the foundation of every noble's power.

And he had turned it into a slaughterhouse.

A low chuckle escaped his lips

The world thought a Goblin Lord was nothing.

They were about to learn how wrong they were.