Get to work, slaves

Minutes passed in suffocating silence, the swirling mist obscuring everything. Then, slowly, shapes began to form within the fog. About fifty villagers emerged, those who had survived the transformation, kneeling before Linfer in silent deference. Their appearances had changed: they were paler, gaunter, and their bulging eyes glowed with a sinister red light. Their forms were more humanoid than the Wendigos that Eden had once known.

Linfer observed them with satisfaction, his wicked smile unchanged. "Loyalty problem: solved. Communication problem: solved. Power problem: solved."

These villagers might not have had any magical affinity, but their rapid regeneration and increased strength, fueled by the corrupted mana, made them perfect soldiers. Moreover, while they retained their consciousness and personalities, Linfer was their absolute master. He could read their thoughts and, if necessary, kill them with a mere mental command.

He snapped his fingers, watching them with cold authority. "Split into two groups. The first will begin construction immediately. The second will come with me." His smile grew even crueler. "After all, there are other territories to pacify."

One of the transformed men, visibly troubled but obedient, raised a trembling hand to catch Linfer's attention. "Master," he said in a hoarse voice, hesitant, "what are we?"

Linfer pondered for a moment before replying honestly, "What do I know? Blood slaves created from my essence? If you want a name... What was this village called?"

"The village was called Wendigo, master."

"Then that will be your species from now on: the Wendigos."

The man shuddered, his red eyes lowered in submission, and nodded. "Yes, Master."

"Any other questions?"

"Could you tell us what you expect from us... for the construction? I doubt our skills are adequate..."

Linfer slowly turned his head toward the young woman who seemed to show no fear, her red eyes piercing his. He had already noticed her during the massacre—one of the few who hadn't begged for her life.

"How curious, even lesser beings can be interesting." A twisted smile curled his lips, and he responded with a chilling softness: 

"What's your name?"

"N-Nestia, Master."

"Resistance!?" Linfer raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn't used this ability much, except on occasion when he wanted to discreetly kill a boring noble in the empire by using a blood slave. But one thing was certain: his slaves never showed resistance. This was a first, and this case intrigued him.

"Don't worry. What I'm asking is simple: build the foundations of an empire. The materials? Your own blood, if necessary. As for the plans… you'll receive them directly from me, in your mind. You don't need to understand. You only need to obey. And Nestia, you're coming with me."

Satisfied, Linfer turned to the rest of his servants.

"Get to work, slaves!"

...

Linfer walked at a leisurely pace, his hands behind his back, toward the next village, followed by Nestia and a dozen Wendigos.

"What's interesting about these lands?" he asked, his tone casual.

Nestia hesitated for a moment. "I don't understand, Master…"

Sensing the softness in his eyes, she quickly responded. She had learned that when Linfer seemed happiest, he was at his most unstable and could unleash his murderous fury at any moment.

"Before your arrival, there were about a dozen independent villages in the area. They were often at odds with the Astavi tribe to the south."

"Astavi?" Linfer repeated, raising an intrigued eyebrow.

"Yes. They're much more developed than we are. Their territory is vast, and they gather millions of people under the banner of their leader, that old cunning fox."

Linfer smiled. "Sounds like you're not too fond of them."

"The Astavi dominate everything around us, and they don't hesitate to crush the weak—like us, the independent villages. In fact, they're quite recognizable with their fox ears."

"And besides them, are there other groups that could pose a problem?"

Nestia thought for a moment before answering. "There are the bandits from the northern mountains. It's said that they possess above-average strength, but… I don't know if those are just rumors. What I do know for certain is that within the Astavi tribe, they say their leader can manipulate fire."

Linfer suddenly stopped, his gaze sharpening. "Manipulate fire? Interesting."

He turned his eyes to the dark sky, thoughtful. "Could it be those fabled mortals..."

He signaled to his Wendigos and resumed his walk. "First, let's unify the surroundings without alerting that tribe. I'm sure my brother has already infiltrated them. Now to figure out what method he'll use."

...

Linfer moved silently through the alleys of a sleeping village. The flames of the torches flickered in the shadows, but they couldn't detect the presence of his Wendigos, who slithered behind him like ghosts. He stopped in front of each house, observing the souls inside. His hand would rise, silent like a shadow, and a dozen Wendigos would descend on the village.

Without a sound, they eliminated the elderly, the sick, and those who no longer served his vision of the future. The rest—the younger and more able-bodied—were left untouched. Dawn rose over villages half-emptied, but the terror of the night was never spoken of. Those who remained knew all too well that they were alive thanks to Linfer.

Linfer was no longer interested in unnecessary violence. He had a vision. An empire where loyalty would be ensured through fear, where power would be consolidated in his army, and where communication between his subjects would be fluid, without chaos or rebellion.

*Five years later*

The landscape had changed. What was once a collection of villages scattered in the forest was now connected by solid roads and defensive bastions. The heart of Linfer's empire beat in a citadel he had built at the center of his conquests: a bastion of black stone surrounded by waves of wendigos patrolling day and night. Around the bastion, thousands of villagers worked tirelessly, turning their new reality into a prosperous but austere economy.

In his power system, there were the villagers who had a relatively respectable life apart from the intensive work. Then there were the wendigos and the normal people with abilities other than manual labor. Finally, there were the special people. The few who had developed an affinity over the years. The wendigos, using corrupted mana, had produced pure mana in large quantities. And the younger ones growing up in this environment had developed an innate predisposition for mana. But among the wendigos, none had an affinity except Nestia, who had a blood affinity for a reason Linfer himself ignored.

Linfer stood at the top of an observation tower, contemplating his work.