Cosmic Lord: The Error Awakens
Chapter 79: The Crystal Envoy

Chapter 79: The Crystal Envoy

The seventy-third dawn broke over Kael El’s Ashen Empire with a crisp golden edge, the 10,906 square kilometers of his Territory Level 5 dominion humming with purpose. The capital city stood at 230 buildings, bone steel and golden turrets rising like a forest of spears as 2,688,000 subjects churned through their tasks—forges blazing, fields yielding, streets buzzing. Kael strode the Lord’s Estate hall, Stormforged Blade slung across his back, EX: Dragonflame Reaver a faint glow at his hip, Stormhide Armor left behind for a lighter gold-threaded tunic. His flirty smirk played across his lips, a cool dominance radiating as he flexed EX: Gold Dominion, golden veins threading the floor beneath his boots.

Day 73. Vex’s dust settles, Myra’s shadow creeps. His dark eyes gleamed with unwavering confidence, pride a molten core beneath his chill exterior. Two-point-seven million souls, 10,906 square kilometers, Territory Level 5’s my anvil—let’s see who’s bold enough to swing. The Nexus whispered through the air: "Kael’s 70, gold endures!" He tilted his head, smirking at the unseen voice. Endure? I thrive.

"Day 73: Post-Peace Period. Territory Level: 5 – Commanding Lord. Territory Size: 10,906 sq. km. Population: 2,688,000 Subjects. Food Stock: 27 Days. Resource Yield: +100% (Lv. 5 Bonus) + 100% (SSS: Resource Lord). Resources: 950,000/1,000,000 for Lv. 5 Completion – Excess Banked: 0. Summon Limit: 20/Day. Territory Lv. 6 Conditions: Reach Level 105, Continental Empire (500+ buildings) [230/500], Defeat 100,000-stat Entity [Not Met], 5,000,000 Resources [950,000/5M], 250,000 Gold/Month [150,000/250,000], Army of 10,000 Elite [2,000/10,000], Build World Wonder [Not Met]."

"Lord Nexus Leaderboard: 1. Kael El (70), 2. Myra (64), 3. Lyra (63), 4. Gavrin (61), 5. Sylth (60), 6. Elynn (59), 7. Jorr (57), 8. Kalia (56), 9. Zane (55), 10. Taryn (54)."

Kael paused by the map table, tracing the eastern border—1,300 kilometers out, where Veyna’s wolves last sniffed Myra’s crystal towers. "Level 70, first place," he murmured, voice low and teasing. "Myra’s 64, 60,000 strong, 1,500 kilometers off. She’s got something cooking." He tapped the table, gold dust flaking off his fingers, when Veyna’s sharp voice cut through the hall.

"Lord!" She strode in, bow slung over her shoulder, a wolf padding at her heels. "Riders from the east—Myra’s colors, crystal banners. Three of ’em, unarmed, 50 kilometers out. They’re asking for you."

Kael’s grin widened, a predatory glint sparking. "Unarmed? Myra’s playing soft—cute. Let’s hear her pitch." He waved a hand. "Bring ’em in, Veyna. Drayce, round up the council. I want eyes on this."

Drayce nodded from the hearth, glaive leaning against the wall. "Aye, Lord. Could be a feint—Myra’s not one for empty gestures." He headed out, armor clanking, as Veyna signaled her wolves to escort the envoy.

By mid-morning, the hall was set—Kael on a golden throne, Lena at his left with her ledgers, Thora at his right hefting her hammer, Veyna and Drayce flanking the doors. The harem lingered in the wings, a quiet chorus of power. Three figures entered, clad in shimmering crystal-threaded robes, their leader a wiry man with sharp cheekbones and eyes like polished glass. He bowed low, voice smooth as a blade on silk.

"Lord Kael El, Champion Lord of the Ashen Empire, first of the Nexus, I am Syris, envoy of Lady Myra, Crystal Lord of the Eastern Veil. She bids you greetings and offers a gift." He gestured, and a second envoy stepped forward, presenting a small crystal orb pulsing with faint light.

Kael leaned forward, smirk unwavering. "Greetings, huh? Myra’s 64, I’m 70—she’s got 60,000 to my 2.7 million. What’s the gift, Syris? And what’s the catch?"

Syris’s smile tightened, but he pressed on. "The orb is a Nexus beacon, a tool to amplify your summons—twenty to thirty a day, perhaps. Lady Myra proposes an alliance. Lyra, third at 63, grows reckless—her raids threaten us both. Together, we could crush her, split her lands, and secure the east."

Kael took the orb, rolling it in his palm. It hummed, warm and alive, but his eyes stayed on Syris. "Lyra’s a thorn, sure. But Myra’s 1,500 kilometers out building crystal towers—sounds like she’s cozying up for something bigger. Why’s she need me?"

"Strength," Syris said, unflinching. "Your gold and her crystals—unbreakable. Lyra’s 200,000 troops would fall in weeks. Myra offers half her resources post-victory—two million, by our count."

Kael chuckled, tossing the orb to Thora, who caught it mid-air. "Two million’s tempting. Lena, what’s our take?"

Lena’s voice was cool, precise. "Resources hit 950,000 this morning, Lord—Vex’s loot and taxes. Buildings at 230, gold at 150,000 monthly. Two million from Myra pushes us to Level 6 faster, but her towers are 15 days’ march. She’s not desperate—she’s positioning."

"Positioning," Kael echoed, grin sharpening. "Drayce, you’re the war dog—what’s your gut say?"

Drayce stepped forward, hand on his glaive’s hilt. "It’s a trap, Lord. Myra’s no fool—60,000’s a fraction of what she could muster. She’s dangling Lyra to lure you east, stretch your lines. I’d bet her crystals are rigged to turn on us once Lyra’s down."

Veyna snorted, leaning against the pillar. "He’s half-right. My wolves saw her towers—defensive, not offensive. She’s scared, Kael. Lyra’s raids hit her harder than us, but she’s still got teeth. Alliance might be real, but she’ll bite when it suits her."

Kael spun the Stormforged Blade idly, eyes flicking between them. "Scared, huh? Syris, your lady’s got 64 levels and a shiny army—why’s she trembling?"

Syris’s composure flickered. "Lyra’s chaos, Lord. Her violet blasts don’t care for borders—Myra’s lost 10,000 in a month. You’re the hammer to end it."

"Chaos I can handle," Kael said, standing, blade resting on his shoulder. "But I don’t dance to anyone’s tune. Tell Myra this: I’ll think on it. Keep her gift—nice trinket. But if her crystals cross 1,300 kilometers, I’ll melt ’em down. Veyna, see ’em out."

Syris bowed again, tighter this time, and the envoys retreated under Veyna’s watchful eye. The hall settled, tension lingering like smoke. Kael paced to the map, staring at Myra’s domain. "Alliance or ambush—either way, she’s playing me. Thoughts?"

Thora hefted the orb, squinting. "It’s legit—Nexus energy, clean. Could bump summons to 25, maybe 30. But I’d rather smash her towers than trust her."

Drayce grunted. "War’s cleaner. Myra’s too clever—ally today, knife tomorrow. Lyra’s the real fight; let’s hit her first."

Veyna returned, wolves padding behind. "They’re gone, Lord. Myra’s testing you—wants to see if you’ll bite. I say stalk her, not join her."

Kael laughed, deep and rolling. "Stalk, smash, or squeeze—my kinda choices. Lena, push to 235 buildings by dusk, bank that million tomorrow. Myra wants a game, I’ll play it my way." He tapped the map, gold dust flaking. "Lyra’s 63, Myra’s 64—I’m 70. They’re scrambling ’cause I’m the storm."

The day rolled on, forges thundering as gold steel clad 231, 232, 233 buildings by noon. Tax collectors pressed harder, resources ticking to 970,000, gold steady at 150,000 monthly. Thora tinkered with the orb, sketching a mount for Kael’s blade, while Veyna sent wolves to shadow Myra’s envoys back. Kael stood by the hearth, sipping wine, the shard from Vex’s loot glinting in his mind. The Empress’s voice—’Dominion is our cage’—echoed faintly. Myra’s move, Lyra’s chaos... what’s your endgame, Empress?

By dusk, 235 buildings stood, gold turrets spiking higher. Kael watched the horizon, smirk firm. "Keep scheming, Myra. I’m the one who breaks cages."

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