The Tyrant's Awakening

Kane said it so casually, as if he were discussing the weather. Like my life was already forfeit.

I kept my expression neutral despite the surge of adrenaline rushing through my veins. My body was weak, my strength stripped away, but my mind—my mind was sharper than ever. If I let him see fear, he'd know I was vulnerable.

The old man beside me—whoever he was—didn't flinch either. His arms remained crossed over his chest, eyes sharp as he studied Kane's posture. "Three days, huh?" he muttered, his voice rough. "Mighty generous of whoever sent you."

Kane chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "Lord Alistair wanted his traitorous son's head brought back immediately." He shrugged. "But his other son—now there's an interesting one—thought it'd be more fun to let you squirm a little first. Said it'd be poetic if you suffered."

A sharp, icy rage coiled in my stomach.

My brother.

Of course it was him.

Damien Drayven, the golden heir, the beloved firstborn. The one who slid a blade across my throat without hesitation. And now, even in what he believed was my final moment, he was toying with me.

I took a slow breath, keeping my expression unreadable. "And you? You're just following orders?"

Kane grinned, showing too-white teeth. "I go where the coin takes me. And right now? There's a damn good price on your corpse."

A sharp pulse throbbed behind my eyes—the same icy sensation from earlier, creeping into my skull. The moment I blinked, blue text flickered into existence in front of me.

【Tyrant's System Activated.】

I nearly staggered as a wave of information poured into my mind, like a second consciousness forcing its way into my head. Words etched themselves across my vision, and my instincts screamed at me to pay attention.

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Status Update: Leon Drayven

【LVL 1 - Exiled Noble】

Strength: 4 ([Weak])

Endurance: 5 ([Fragile])

Dexterity: 3 ([Pathetic])

Magic: 0 ([Dormant])

Tyranny Points: 0

【System Directive: Dominate, Conquer, Rule.】

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My stomach twisted. What the hell was this?

My stats were a joke. Weaker than a stable boy. Even magic was locked away—something that should have been impossible.

And yet, the system's directive pulsed in the back of my mind. Dominate. Conquer. Rule.

Something told me this wasn't just a blessing—it was a demand.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Kane was still watching me, his smirk never wavering, like a wolf amused by the struggling prey before it.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," he mused.

I forced a chuckle, masking my unease. "Just thinking about how I'll be celebrating on the fourth day."

Kane barked a laugh. "Cocky, aren't you?" He pushed himself off the doorframe, adjusting the straps on his belt. "Doesn't matter. Three days, Drayven. Either you die easy, or I come back and make it messy."

With that, he turned and strode out, his boots crunching against the dirt road.

I let out a slow breath, my hands clenching into fists.

The old man closed the door with a rough shove, muttering under his breath. He turned to me, his gaze unreadable. "That system of yours," he said. "It just woke up, didn't it?"

I froze.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze to meet his.

"How do you know that?"

He snorted. "Boy, you were about as empty as a beggar's coin pouch before. Then suddenly—"he gestured vaguely at "me"—something in you clicked. I'd have to be blind not to notice."

I didn't answer immediately. My mind was still racing, still trying to process what I had just seen.

The system—this Tyrant's System—had called itself activated. And though I had no idea how it worked, one thing was certain:

I wasn't going to waste it.

I exhaled through my nose, then glanced at the old man. "What's your name?"

He rubbed his chin, considering me. "Call me Garrick."

I nodded, then turned my gaze toward the door, where Kane had disappeared.

Three days. That was all I had.

My grip tightened. Three days would be more than enough.

Garrick studied me for a long moment before scoffing. "That's a dangerous look in your eyes, boy. You planning on running? Hiding?"

I shook my head. "Neither."

His brows lifted slightly, but he didn't question it. Instead, he moved toward the rickety table and grabbed the bowl he had left earlier. "Eat. You're useless if you collapse before the real fight even starts."

My stomach twisted at the thought of food, but I knew better than to refuse. I was weak—too weak—and whatever this body had been through before I woke up had left it barely hanging on. If I was going to survive the next three days, I needed every bit of strength I could get.

I sat back down on the cot and took the bowl from Garrick's outstretched hand. The contents weren't much—thin broth with a few sad scraps of meat floating in it. The scent wasn't exactly inviting, but I forced myself to drink. The warmth spread through my chest, chasing away some of the chill that had settled in my bones.

Garrick sat across from me, arms crossed as he watched. "So? What's the plan?"

I set the bowl down and met his gaze. "You tell me."

His expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. He was testing me—trying to see if I was worth the effort.

"I don't have the luxury of waiting around to get strong," I continued. "Three days isn't enough time for proper training. I need to get ahead of them another way."

Garrick exhaled through his nose. "Hmph. You've got a good head on your shoulders, at least. But that system of yours—what does it actually do?"

I hesitated. The blue text still hovered faintly in my vision, waiting, pulsing. My stats were laughable, but the system hadn't just shown me my weaknesses—it had given me a directive.

Dominate. Conquer. Rule.

I wasn't sure how, but if this thing had a name like the Tyrant's System, then it had to be more than just a status screen.

A new line of text suddenly flickered into view.

【First Quest: Establish Authority】

Objective: Force a subject into submission.Reward: Tyranny Points +5Failure: Weakness persists.

I nearly recoiled at the words. Force a subject into submission? The phrasing was vague, but the intent was clear. This system wasn't about heroics or righteousness. It was about control.

I clenched my jaw. I wasn't a tyrant. I wasn't Damien.

But I was at a disadvantage, and if I wanted to live past these three days, I had to use every tool available to me.

Garrick raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

I looked at him, considering my options. Then, slowly, I exhaled and answered.

"I think I just got my first lead."