Building A Clan. 2

Trent's doubts from when he first created the game were finally cleared: the Paradox world truly had no atmospheric difference between day and night. He still wondered how the indigenes could tell it was nighttime, even showing signs of sleepiness. But according to the Stound Gauge, a time-telling construction given to him by Pana, this was morning, and it was time for him to get up from the comfortable bed he had shared with Ascezeca and take a bath.

He had demanded the comfiest and most magnificent home in Pana-agen's freefolk clan, displacing a meek elf and his family from the building. However, Trent had promised them a new home, and construction was already underway with the limitless wealth at his disposal.

Now, as he stood in the fine bathroom of the large, regal home, taking a bath, Trent felt a surge of eagerness to officially kick off his purpose in the Paradox. He had undeployed Crimson Knight, and after wiping his face clean with a towel, he decided to take a look at himself in the mirror.

He still couldn't believe he looked so handsome! One day, he was signing a document that would have changed his life—and it did change, completely. From feeling the blood in his body dry up as the fire raged against his skin, to fondling a goddess and fucking a she-devil was a massive change if Trent would be honest. And he'd be a fool to lose all this if not able to put a smile on the goddess' face.

He had learnt a few things from the system concerning this Orb of Permanence. First, it was the initial one out of three Orbs: Permanence, Assimilation, and Disruption. Second, it was immensely powerful, with the System stating that it could alter the course of the Paradox. Trent could see why the goddess would want it, and he had promised to obtain it for her. Now that he could Manifest Mana, nothing could stand in his way.

He ordered the System to display his Stats.

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Name: Nightingale

Race: Human (1)

Role: Darth Assassin

Manifestations: Two(1)

Beasts Tamed: None

Essenced equipments: None

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Role Influence

- **Level**: Exceeding Rank

- **Strength**: 1000/10

- **Dexterity**: 1000/10

- **Agility**: 1000/10

- **Intelligence**: 1000/10

- **Wisdom**: 1000/10

- **Charisma**: 1000/10

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Manifestations Lore

- **Doublet Fist** (...)

- **\Fyrestorm/** (...)

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'Hmm,' Trent pondered. 'So that's what the Manifestation is called. I guess it must be in those slanting brackets because it's manifested directly from channelled Mana. And I guess the number next to my race is how many females I have bred.' He felt satisfied with the growth he had achieved within just a few hours. Two Manifestations was something to marvel at; some indigenes couldn't even channel mere Essence. With his Influence of Role as a Darth Assassin, a high Mana Keeper, combined with the overall buff granted by the goddess, his potential looked promising. He could acquire up to a thousand Manifestations, whether channelled from Essence or Mana.

'About that...' Trent thought as he deployed Crimson Knight again using his game system. He was eager to learn everything about this world, especially the chaos and how Mana played a part in it.

He opened the bathroom door and stepped into the expansive space of the building. It contained the master bed, and a few steps led up to a dining table. On the bed lay Ascezeca, she was still sleeping soundly, with her ass standing out as a bump in all the bed garments and sheets.

Trent hadn't penetrated her during the night, choosing instead to sleep through it. But he made sure to use her soft jugs as pillows and fondled her rump, enjoying her warmth. He decided it would be best to save her for later in the day. Throughout the night, he had felt her twitching with a mix of horniness and loyalty, clearly eager for him to claim her. But it hadn't even been a full day since he piped the she-devil, and Trent really loved making his cums count.

His attention shifted to the dining table, where two figures were standing. They were Pana and the dwarf Sentinel he had held captive during the fight at the inn. Trent had summoned them for breakfast, intending to discuss and absorb the knowledge they possessed. He needed to understand the structure of the Darth Society, their role, the nature of the beasts, the role of these beasts, any other groups he should be aware of, and most importantly, the what and where of the Orb of Permanence.

Trent clapped his hands. "Gen! You're still dressed in those old rags? Freshen up!" Trent boomed, his voice resonating as he walked toward the short steps leading to the dining table.

"I'm sorry, Sire. But, I swear I would not spend a single shilling of your ill-gotten wealth on my personal needs," Pana replied with a deep, irritated voice, his eyes still glowing red as he had his strong grey arms crossed behind his back, towering like a monument beside the small dwarf.

A deviless walked into the space with a big tray filled with food. She placed it on the dining table, bending as low as possible so Trent could see what she got. Trent wasn't all that interested. Zhen must be a very special devil, because he had found her irresistible to fuck, even when other she-devils had similar cup and rump sizes.

"I believe food is one of the needs of a sentient as well," Trent proclaimed, stepping onto the dining just as the she-devil left. He gestured to the seats before taking his.

"I had my dinner by my own endorsement," Pana replied to Trent's statement, walking confidently towards the seat to the Darth Assassin's right and served his comfort.

Trent chuckled behind his mask. He respected Pana-agen. The male had a strong will, and it was clear why he had been selected as the Clan's head—his Mana was higher than that of any other in the clan. Plus, he had once held the role of Leader of a Vanguard, which only added to his stature. Trent shifted his gaze to the dwarf, who was barely visible behind the high dining table. A quick [read] identified him as Olaf, without a last name. His Mana was substantial, but nowhere near Pana's level. Trent began to wonder what it took to join the Darth Society, to become a Darth.

The dwarf pushed himself up to the table, settling into a chair with a tired sigh. There was a brief silence as Trent glared at the two males. He gestured toward the meal before them, urging them to start the discussion.