Chapter 194: Chapter 194 - Dominion in Name Only
The great war, the Dominion Skirmish, had finally reached its end. Or at least, almost. A few factions still lingered across the island, but the greatest threat on this battlefield had been crushed.
It had been a long night. A brutal, exhausting night.
Atlas stepped out from the central fortress, his eyes sweeping across the battlefield. The warriors of the alliance moved steadily, cutting down the last remnants of resistance. A few enemy soldiers remained, but they were broken, scattered, and abandoned by their lords, left leaderless after their commander had fallen to Atlas and the other lords.
And then, dawn came.
The first light crept across the horizon, spilling golden rays over the ruined land. The battlefield lay bare beneath the morning glow, forever changed. Where snow had once blanketed the ground, now the earth was scorched black, cracked by molten veins long cooled. The air carried a strange warmth, unlike the bitter cold that had gripped them for weeks.
As the sunlight fully engulfed the land, the last sword fell. The final enemy cry faded into silence.
And with it, the great war was over.
Morning had come to greet their victory.
Atlas walked forward with Luna at his side. Together, they looked out over their soldiers. Bloodied, dirt-streaked, weapons slipping from tired hands. And yet, despite their exhaustion, they smiled. They were celebrating the end of the war.
From within the weary but triumphant ranks came a cry that split the silence.
"WE DID IT!!!"
"VICTORY IS OURS!"
"THE FORTRESS BELONGS TO US!!"
Their voices rose together, a thunderous roar of triumph that shook the very ground beneath their feet.
Atlas released a slow breath, his grip easing on the Wavebreaker Spear at last.
Lyrassa, Celestia, and several other healers immediately tended to the remaining troops. Victory did not come without a cost. Casualties, grievous wounds, and even death marked their side as well. But this was the price they had always known they would have to pay.
This was always the hardest moment after war had ended. The moment they had to accept the loss of their comrades. Some had perished, others were so gravely wounded that they would never fight again. Some would be forced to retire and return to the Lower Lands, while others might choose to remain, taking on roles as workers within their respective island lords’ domains.
The Central Fortress still stood, its protective walls scarred by battle. Though damaged, they could be restored within hours. But there was no time to rest. The dominion skirmish was not yet over.
Across the island, smaller lord alliances remained. Independent lords who had once fought alone but later banded together into fractured factions. They had yet to be dealt with.
If the enemy chose to resist, there was only one response, annihilation. Atlas could have taken the safer route, fortifying the Central Fortress and holding his ground.
But that wasn’t who he was.
He would finish what they started.
**
Between the charred trees, their trunks blackened by molten lava, the battlefield slowly came into view. Through the clearing, hundreds of soldiers emerged, their gazes locked onto the enemy encampment ahead.
The opposing force was already prepared, standing in formation, their numbers easily exceeding a hundred. Yet, despite the tension, their lords stepped forward. Not with a weapon in hand, but with his arms raised in surrender as Atlas and his troops approached.
"We witnessed the war last night. It was immense, and your victory truly remarkable. But our alliance is only a small one, and we have no intention of claiming this island. We only wish to stay and hunt," the enemy lord said calmly. "We will not resist in any way. After all, it is clear you are far stronger than us. With all humility, allow us to remain only to harvest what we can from this island. You may watch over every move we make."
Atlas stepped forward with quiet confidence.
Yes, he was only a Seeker-rank Lord, and the man before him was, without question, stronger. But strength was not measured by rank alone. Atlas commanded the largest alliance on this island. His power came not from himself alone, but from his loyal subordinates, his fellow lords, and the countless soldiers who stood at his back.
Here, now, he held the undeniable advantage.
"Leave the island before the last light of the sun disappears beyond the horizon," Atlas said firmly, his tone allowing not even a sliver of negotiation. "We intend to bring the Dominion Skirmish to its end quickly. If you remain, it will mean you still wish to fight."
The opposing lord’s shoulders sagged. Slowly, he nodded, the disappointment in his eyes unmistakable. Atlas had left them no room to linger.
"Thank you for your mercy. We will retreat immediately."
And with those words, the enemy finally surrendered.
With that, Atlas turned without another word, walking back toward Luna and the others. His troops followed in silence, disappearing once more into the trees, leaving the enemy behind to make their choice.
Even though the opposing lord had claimed they were only staying to hunt, Atlas would not allow even the slightest potential for resistance in the territory he had fought so hard to claim.
He had learned from his own experience. A mere Seeker-rank Lord who had managed to overthrow an alliance far stronger than himself.
Underestimating small forces was dangerous. Given the chance, even a weakened enemy could strike back in unexpected ways. That was why he would drive out every last opponent. And if another war was necessary, so be it.
But then, just as the final rays of sunlight faded, swallowed by the darkness of night, a system message appeared before him.
[Congratulations! You have successfully claimed Central Fortress, achieving dominion over all remaining forces on the island.]
[All enemy troops have either been defeated or retreated.]
[If you maintain this control alongside the alliance you’ve built, ultimate victory will be yours.]
It was only a temporary notification. The final decision on the winner would only be determined after the Dominion Skirmish concluded, which was less than a week away.
In reality, victory was already within their grasp. With only Atlas and his alliance left standing, no true threats remained. And yet... unease gnawed at him.
If he, Luna, and the other lords crushed what little resistance lingered, their victory would be absolute. But alliances were easy to uphold when a common enemy loomed. Now, with their foes gone and only power left to claim, ambition could easily rear its head.
Who could say for certain that those who had once fought beside him wouldn’t turn their eyes toward a greater share of the spoils?
Who could guarantee loyalty when the Central Fortress, and control of the entire island, was still at stake?
For in the end, the rules were clear. Only the one who held the Central Fortress at the final moment, and who stood unchallenged, would be crowned the true victor of the Dominion Skirmish.
So then... was it truly safe for Atlas to trust Luna and the others until the very end?
Of course not.
To grant blind trust would be nothing short of foolishness. Trust was something to be earned, to be built over time - never something to simply be claimed.