3.

The tension in the room thickened as Lucian weighed the options before him. The Warlord's approach was direct—strike first, crush the Shadow Realm, and send a clear message to any who dared to think the Abyss was vulnerable. Mal'Gorath's dark eyes gleamed with agreement, eager to unleash the Abyss's raw power. But Seraphis, ever the strategist, urged caution. Her approach was one of subtlety—manipulate from the shadows, strike when the enemy least expected it, and avoid a conflict that could lead to an all-out war with two powerful realms at once.

Lucian's thoughts raced. He wasn't ready to throw the Abyssal Domain into a war, not yet. He needed more time to understand the powers he now wielded and to gain a firmer grip on the political landscape of this world. But time was a luxury he didn't have. The enemies of the Abyss were gathering, and hesitation could be just as deadly as rushing into a conflict unprepared.

Trust your instincts, the voice of the Abyssal Lord whispered in his mind, growing more insistent. These are your generals, your loyal servants. They have always been by your side. But they need your strength now more than ever. They need to know that the Abyssal Lord has returned in full.

Lucian resisted the urge to snap at the voice, though its presence gnawed at the edges of his sanity. He still didn't understand the full scope of his predecessor's power or the terrifying potential locked within his new body. The thought of unleashing it recklessly made his skin crawl. But there was no time for doubt. Not here.

Lucian straightened in his throne, exuding an air of confidence and authority he didn't fully feel. "Seraphis is right," he said, his voice cold and firm. "An outright assault could provoke a full-scale war, which we aren't prepared for—not yet. But we cannot sit idle. The Shadow Realm must be reminded that we are not to be trifled with."

Tharok's eyes flared briefly with frustration, but he gave a curt nod. "A show of force, then. What would you have us do, my Lord?"

Lucian steepled his fingers, his mind working furiously. He needed to strike hard, but smart. A direct attack wasn't the answer—not yet. But if they could send a message that shook the very foundation of the Shadow Realm's confidence, it might buy him the time he needed.

"We will not invade," Lucian began, "but we will send them a warning they cannot ignore. A precise strike. Something that will destabilize them without plunging us into full-scale conflict."

Seraphis leaned forward, her eyes glittering in the dim light. "You wish to sabotage them from within," she said, her lips curling into a cold smile. "Very wise, my Lord."

Lucian nodded. "You will choose one of your best agents. I want them to infiltrate the Shadow Realm and strike at their core—quietly. Destroy something valuable, something that will send a clear message without giving them a reason to declare war."

Seraphis's smile widened, and she gave a slow, deliberate bow. "I already have someone in mind. They will be discreet and effective."

Lucian felt a momentary surge of relief. He wasn't throwing the Abyssal Domain into chaos, not yet at least, but this move would buy him the time he needed to consolidate his power and learn more about his new abilities. Still, he had to remain cautious. The Shadow Realm wouldn't take kindly to being humiliated, even if the strike was covert. He had to be ready for retaliation.

Tharok, however, was less pleased. "A single agent is not enough," he growled. "If we are going to send a message, we must strike hard, even if it's from the shadows. Let me send a small force with the assassin. If they are discovered, we'll need the strength to back up the threat."

Lucian considered it for a moment, then shook his head. "No. A force would draw too much attention. The strength of this strike is its subtlety. We want them to feel our power, not see it coming. We remain in the shadows until the time is right."

Tharok's fists clenched, but he bowed his head in acquiescence. "As you command, my Lord."

Lucian could sense the warlord's frustration, but he also knew that Tharok respected strength. This was a test, not just for Lucian, but for his generals as well. If he could prove himself capable of making decisive, calculated decisions, he would earn their loyalty—at least for now.

Just as Lucian was about to adjourn the meeting, the heavy doors to the council chamber creaked open. Another figure entered, this one shorter than the others, but with an air of importance that commanded immediate attention. The newcomer was dressed in ornate robes, embroidered with intricate runes and symbols of power. His face was hidden beneath a hood, but Lucian could feel the dark magic radiating from him.

This was Kethor, the Abyssal Domain's chief summoner and one of the few beings who could control the powerful creatures that resided within the Abyss itself.

"My Lord," Kethor said, his voice smooth and respectful. "I have come to inform you that the Abyss stirs. The creatures you once commanded… they sense your return, but they are restless. They seek your command."

Lucian's eyes narrowed. He hadn't even begun to consider the monsters and dark entities that lurked in the depths of the Abyss. The Abyssal Lord had once controlled legions of them, using their terrifying power to bend realms to his will. But now, they were unpredictable. If they sensed his weakness…

You must show them who rules, the voice in his mind whispered. The Abyss is your domain, and its creatures are yours to command. You must master them—or they will tear you apart.

Lucian stood slowly, feeling the weight of the moment settle on his shoulders. He couldn't afford to lose control of the Abyss's creatures. If they rebelled, the entire domain would descend into chaos, and his enemies would strike without hesitation.

"Summon them," Lucian ordered, his voice low but commanding. "I will face them myself."

The council members exchanged uneasy glances. Even Tharok, the ever-confident Warlord, looked uncertain. Facing the creatures of the Abyss was no small task, and in his current state, Lucian knew they would test him—perhaps even try to destroy him if they sensed he was unworthy of their true master's power.

But Lucian wasn't going to back down. He needed to prove, to them and to himself, that he could wield the power of the Abyssal Lord. The alternative was failure—death, or worse.

Kethor gave a deep bow. "As you command, my Lord. The summoning will begin at once."

Lucian remained standing, watching as the council members slowly rose from their seats. Tharok nodded respectfully, though his eyes lingered on Lucian as if gauging his resolve. Mal'Gorath and Seraphis gave low bows before departing, each already preparing for their respective tasks.

The council chamber emptied, leaving Lucian alone with his thoughts.

You will survive this, the voice whispered in his mind, more insistent now. You are the Abyssal Lord, after all. And soon, they will remember.

Lucian's hand tightened into a fist, the power of the Abyss swirling within him. He was no longer the man he once was. He would not let this new world consume him. If the Abyss sought to test him, then he would show it exactly who was in control.