Chapter 4 Raiden the Conqueror

New Mission: Establish Your First Faction][Objective: Recruit Three Key Members][Reward: Unlock Advanced System Functions]

Zayn smirked. Time to start building his empire.

His first target?

Raiden.

Zayn found him in the Warrior Faction's private training grounds. The air was thick with sweat, muscle, and pure brutality.

The Warrior's Hall pulsed with energy. The scent of sweat and steel filled the air as students trained, their clashes ringing like war drums. And at the center of it all, standing over three broken opponents, was Raiden Velkar.

Students clashed swords, exchanged blows, trained for war.

But Raiden stood out like a storm in a field of flames.

He was fast. Brutal. Every strike of his sword carried overwhelming force.

He still remembered the first time he met Raiden...

A dozen challengers stood against Raiden Velkar—each one an elite warrior of the Academy. Veterans of duels, prodigies of their factions, and sons of noble bloodlines, they were proud, confident, and prepared.

They thought numbers would give them an advantage.

They were wrong.

The first one lunged, a dual-blade specialist aiming for Raiden's blind spot. Raiden didn't dodge. He simply twisted, letting the first blade scrape against his reinforced leather while his elbow drove into the attacker's throat. The man collapsed, gagging—already out of the fight.

The second and third came together. One swung an axe for Raiden's ribs, the other slashed with a curved saber. A fatal combination—if they were fighting anyone else.

Raiden caught the axe mid-swing. His grip was like iron. Before its wielder could react, Raiden yanked him forward and headbutted him with bone-cracking force. Blood sprayed as the man crumpled, unconscious before he hit the ground.

The saber user hesitated. That was all Raiden needed.

A single kick to the ribs sent him flying.

The rest hesitated now. Five down in seconds.

But fear made them desperate. They charged as one, swords flashing, war cries echoing.

Raiden moved like a beast unleashed. He ducked under a spear thrust, caught the shaft, and wrenched it forward, pulling its wielder straight into his knee. The sound of breaking bone filled the air.

Someone aimed for his back—a grave mistake.

Raiden pivoted and slammed his fist into the attacker's face. Teeth shattered.

Two more came at once, swinging with synchronized precision. Raiden grinned. Finally, a challenge.

He grabbed the first by the wrist, twisted brutally, and threw him into his ally. They collapsed in a heap.

The last man standing dropped his sword.

Raiden exhaled, disappointed. "You're all weak."

The hall was silent. Bloodied bodies littered the floor. Not a single opponent remained standing.

And Raiden Velkar had not taken a single step back.

...

Raiden's knuckles were raw, his breath steady, and his storm-gray eyes carried a challenge that no one dared meet.

Except Zayn.

The prince strode forward, unfazed by the bodies littering the floor. The crowd of warriors stepped aside, parting like a tide before him. When he stopped just a few feet from Raiden, the hall grew deathly silent.

Raiden exhaled. "You've got a death wish, Zay?" His tone was neutral, but his muscles were taut, like a predator gauging its prey. Combat was the one time where Raiden couldn't control his bloodlust.

Zayn smirked. "No. I have an offer."

Raiden snorted. "I don't take orders."

"You will," Zayn said, golden eyes gleaming. "Because I'm not asking you to serve me."

He stepped closer, voice dropping just enough for only Raiden to hear.

"I'm offering you a throne."

The weight of those words settled like a storm. A throne? The warriors listening in exchanged wary glances. Some even flinched, as if Zayn had uttered a forbidden prophecy.

Raiden's gaze darkened. "You think you can command me?" Raiden had bad blood with authority, especially with anyone noble. Half the reason they were buds was simply because he was less of a royal than most royals in the Academy

Zayn's smirk widened. "No. I think you should stand beside me."

Raiden studied him, searching for mockery—for weakness. He found none.

"You fought for the Empire like a loyal hound," Zayn said, his voice cutting deep. "You bled for them, obeyed without question, tore apart their enemies at their command." He took a step closer, his golden eyes gleaming with challenge. "And how did they repay you?" His voice dropped into a vicious whisper. "They leashed you. Used you. Then cast you aside like a beaten dog. So tell me, Raiden—why not bare your fangs at them instead?"

Raiden froze.

Zayn pressed forward. "They send you to die. They feed you empty promises of glory, then discarded you like a tool they no longer needed."

Something flickered in Raiden's gaze. Something dangerous.

Zayn's voice softened, but it was no less sharp.

"I won't waste you like they did." He extended his hand. "Be my sword. My warlord. My champion."

The entire hall held its breath.

For a long moment, Raiden was silent. Then, slowly, he reached out.

And grasped Zayn's hand.

A pact was sealed. The storm had found its master.

[Raiden Velkar has joined your faction!][Faction Strength Increased!]