Tyrant System: Rise of the Dragonblooded

The candlelight flickered across the war table, casting dancing shadows like ghosts on the walls. Rin stood alone in his chamber, no servants, no wife, no generals,just silence. His gaze swept over the maps and papers he'd collected over the years: blood-stained, worn, covered in countless annotations.

It was time.

Everything had unfolded exactly as he'd planned.

"You're too young. Too reckless. Too naive."

That's what they all thought. Even Kaelion, even Varros. But Rin had never been reckless. Every smile, every word, every 'mistake',they were all deliberate. He had begun crafting this path the moment he realized the "system" wasn't just a tool. It was a throne waiting for a king. The moment Varros stupidly let slip the secret of the soul key, Rin knew his destiny.

He remembered his first day in the North, at the gates. The biting cold winds, the hungry stares, the endless whispers about his supposed weakness. He let them whisper. He let them underestimate him. He let Varros believe he was the true ruler.

"You're the last hope of my bloodline," Varros had once said.

Rin had smiled that day too. But inside, he had already decided: every single person would become a stepping stone.

It started with Aiven and Orien. He scouted them not just for their talent, but for their loyalty,a loyalty forged in hardship, not ambition. People like that could be bent, but never truly broken. He gave them wings, gave them purpose. He wanted them to be a contrast, naive in their devotion, while he remained sharp and calculating. They would be used for his next plan.

He feigned vulnerability in front of Varros, speaking of fear, of enemies too strong to face alone. Varros believed every word. He craved power, not truth. Rin revealed many things to Varros, even staged a scene to appear weak, all to deceive Varros and Kaelion.

Then came Selvara. Poor girl. Rin hadn't chosen her out of love. She was leverage. A symbol. A key. And a womb.

He never truly liked her. Instead, he quietly, gently, over weeks, planted the blood wing inside her. The energy absorption was slow, undetectable. And now the world believed she carried the heir to the Solas line. The "child" became a trap ,not just for Varros, but for Kaelion too.

Dren's "defection" served two purposes:

* To plant a spy in Kaelion's camp.

* To remove Varros while garnering public sympathy for Rin. This would allow him to get the soul key.

And it worked.

The moment Varros lay dying, Rin already had his hands on the prize: the soul key. A secret passed down only to those entrusted with the Special Forces,now embedded inside Selvara's unborn child. Rin had the key. The daughter was irrelevant. The grandfather was dead.

Kaelion, meanwhile, danced like a puppet. Sending killers, feeding betrayal, believing he was shaping the future.

But Rin had used his carefully managed information to choose the exact time of Varros' murder. He fed both Kaelion and Varros a mix of lies and truths,just enough to keep them blind.

Now, with the fake pregnancy spreading like wildfire, and the nobles convinced Rin was the victim of an attempted coup, his influence had never been higher. They even noticed that Varros's loyal army remained with Rin, not scattering. Even Arkan watched with curiosity now, wondering what kind of monster had risen.

Rin opened his palm and stared at the glowing mark pulsing across it. The soul key had unlocked something more than command,it had awakened a new system node, one he would explore in the future.

From the shadows, one hundred figures stepped forward.

Men and women. Some young, some old. All silent. All empty-eyed. They were commanders, leaders of hidden units spread across the country. Soldiers who had once served Varros, Varros's father, or even the Emperor. But now...

They belonged to him.

Rin stepped forward. His white hair glowed faintly under the system's light. His voice was soft.

"Kneel."

All 100 dropped to one knee instantly, heads bowed in perfect unison.

He looked down at them. Their minds were blank, their loyalty fused through the soul key. They would follow him into fire, death, or worse. Not a single question. Not a single fear.

"From now on, you are my blades, my shadows, my slaves."

He could feel their energy as if it were his own. He could decide who they hated, who they obeyed, who they executed. They were not living men anymore. They were an extension of his will.