Cosmic Lord: The Error Awakens
Chapter 82: Chains of Trust

Chapter 82: Chains of Trust

The seventy-sixth dawn cast a muted gold over Kael El’s Ashen Empire, the 10,906 square kilometers of his Territory Level 5 dominion steady under a sky streaked with thin clouds. The capital city stood at 245 buildings, bone steel and golden turrets rising like silent sentinels as 2,688,000 subjects moved through their routines—forges sparking, fields rustling, streets humming with quiet purpose. Kael paced the Lord’s Estate’s lower chamber, a stone-walled cell lit by flickering gold torches. Stormforged Blade rested against the wall, its shard-pommel pulsing faintly, while EX: Dragonflame Reaver glowed at his hip. Stormhide Armor clad him, its scars a map of yesterday’s victory. His flirty smirk flickered, tempered by a cool dominance as he flexed EX: Gold Dominion, golden veins threading the floor beneath his boots.

Day 76. Lyra’s bleeding, Myra’s scheming—now I’ve got a tongue to loosen. 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 foundation—let’s dig into their fears. The Nexus murmured softly: "Kael’s 71, gold prevails!" He smirked at the air, voice low. Prevail? I dominate.

"Day 76: Post-Peace Period. Territory Level: 5 – Commanding Lord. Territory Size: 10,906 sq. km. Population: 2,688,000 Subjects. Food Stock: 24 Days. Resource Yield: +100% (Lv. 5 Bonus) + 100% (SSS: Resource Lord). Resources: 1,025,000/1,000,000 for Lv. 5 Completion – Excess Banked: 35,000. Summon Limit: 20/Day. Territory Lv. 6 Conditions: Reach Level 105, Continental Empire (500+ buildings) [245/500], Defeat 100,000-stat Entity [Not Met], 5,000,000 Resources [1,025,000/5M], 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 (71), 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 stopped pacing, leaning against the wall, blade shard humming as he eyed the prisoner chained to a stone slab. A wiry man, violet cloak tattered, face bruised from yesterday’s rout—Lyra’s lieutenant, one of the 5,000 who’d fled, caught by Veyna’s wolves 1,100 kilometers east. His staff was gone, his 8,000 Stats muted by gold-steel manacles Thora had forged. "Level 71, first place," Kael murmured, voice teasing but edged. "Lyra’s 63, third—and you’re the lucky one who gets to talk. Name?"

The man glared, violet eyes dull but defiant. "Korrin," he spat, voice rough. "Captain under Lyra, Chaos Lord. You’ll get nothing else."

Kael chuckled, pulling a chair over and sitting, legs stretched out. "Korrin, huh? Cute. You’re chained in my house, 100,000 of your buddies are ash, and Lyra’s 1,300 kilometers east licking wounds. I’ll get plenty." He leaned forward, smirk sharpening. "Why’d she hit my scouts? What’s the play?"

Korrin’s jaw tightened, but his eyes flicked to the shard-pommel on Kael’s blade, its pulse catching his attention. "Lyra doesn’t explain—she orders. Said your gold’s spreading too fast, choking the east. Wanted to test you."

"Test me?" Kael laughed, deep and rolling. "She lost 100,000 for a test. What’s she scared of—my 2.7 million? My 10,906 square kilometers? Or me at 71 while she’s stuck at 63?" He tapped the shard, its song faint but clear. "Spill it, Korrin. I’ve got all day."

Korrin shifted, chains clanking, then sighed, defiance cracking. "Not just Lyra. She’s talking—Myra, Gavrin, Sylth. They’re spooked. You’re Level 71, Territory Level 5, first on the Nexus. They say you’re gunning for 100, the Empress’s crown. Coalition’s forming—quiet, but it’s there."

Kael’s smirk faded, eyes narrowing. "Coalition. Myra’s 64, Gavrin’s 61, Sylth’s 60—Lyra’s 63. Second, fourth, fifth, third. Cute little club. Why me?"

Korrin met his gaze, voice low. "You’re too strong. Two-point-seven million, 10,906 square kilometers—they think you’ll swallow the continent. Lyra says the Empress wants a king, not a pack. They’re betting you’re her pick."

Kael leaned back, spinning the Stormforged Blade in his hand, shard singing softly. "Empress’s pick, huh? Funny—Myra’s envoy yesterday wanted an alliance, now she’s plotting with Lyra? Gavrin’s a coward, Sylth’s a shadow. What’s their move?"

Korrin shrugged, chains rattling. "Dunno. Lyra sent us to bleed you—slow you down. Said if you hit 75, it’s over for them. They’re scared of your gold, your... whatever that is." He nodded at the shard.

Kael’s grin returned, slow and dangerous. "This? Just a trinket from Vex—sings about the Empress and some ’Error.’ Maybe they’re scared of that too." He stood, pacing again, blade resting on his shoulder. "Thanks, Korrin. You’re staying here—comfy cell, good view. Think about switching sides—Lyra’s not winning this."

Korrin snorted, but said nothing as Drayce entered, glaive in hand. "Lord, he talking?"

"Enough," Kael said, clapping Drayce’s arm. "Coalition—Myra, Lyra, Gavrin, Sylth. They’re shaking ’cause I’m 71. Keep him fed, not dead." He strode out, shard humming, mind turning over Korrin’s words.

Upstairs, the Lord’s Estate hall glowed with afternoon light, Lena waiting by the map table, her ledgers open. Thora hammered in the corner, Veyna sharpened arrows, and the harem lounged—Elys sparking, Rhea warming the air. Kael dropped into a chair, blade across his lap, and waved Lena over. "Talked to Lyra’s dog—Korrin. Says Myra, Lyra, Gavrin, Sylth are teaming up. Scared I’ll hit 100, take the Empress’s prize."

Lena’s eyes flicked up, sharp and calm. "Coalition makes sense—your 2.7 million, 10,906 square kilometers, Level 71. They’re outmatched solo. Buildings hit 248 this morning, resources at 1,045,000, excess banked at 55,000. Gold’s at 155,000 monthly—taxes bumped it."

Kael smirked, leaning back. "248’s solid—push to 250 by dusk, bank 75,000 by tomorrow. They’re scared? Good. Let’s make ’em sweat." He paused, tapping the shard. "Korrin said they think I’m the Empress’s pick. You buy that?"

Lena set her quill down, folding her arms. "Maybe. You’re first, 71—stats, territory, population. Myra’s 64, Lyra’s 63—they’re strong, but you’re a juggernaut. The Empress’s shard, your EX skills... you’re different. But coalitions shift—Myra’s envoy could’ve been a feeler, testing if you’d bite before they unite."

Kael’s grin softened, eyes locking on hers. "Different, huh? You’ve been with me since day one, Lena—2.7 million now, from nothing. Trust’s why we’re here. Myra’s playing both sides—ally yesterday, enemy today. You ever doubt me?"

Lena blinked, then smiled—rare, genuine. "Never, Lord. You’re reckless, cocky, push too hard sometimes—but you deliver. Vex’s ash, Lyra’s rout, 1,045,000 resources—I trust you because you win. Just... don’t stretch us too thin. 250 buildings is doable, but 500 for Level 6? We need balance."

Kael laughed, standing and clapping her shoulder, gold dust flaking off. "Balance? I’m the storm, Lena—trust me to blow through. Myra’s 64, Lyra’s 63—they’re plotting ’cause I’m 71. Keep the numbers tight, I’ll keep the blade sharp." He spun the Stormforged Blade, shard singing. "Thora, how’s my trinket?"

Thora looked up, hammer paused. "Singing louder, Lord—since the fight. Whatever ’The Error’ is, it’s waking up with you."

Kael’s smirk returned, full force. "Waking up? Good—I like a challenge. Veyna, wolves east—1,400 kilometers. I want Lyra’s next move, Myra’s too." Veyna nodded, whistling her pack out the door.

The day rolled on, forges thundering as gold steel clad 249, then 250 by dusk. Resources ticked to 1,050,000, excess banked at 60,000, gold steady at 155,000 monthly. Kael stood on the balcony, blade in hand, shard pulsing as he stared east. The Empress’s voice—’The Error twists dominion’—mingled with Korrin’s warning. Coalition, huh? He grinned into the dusk. "Gang up all you want—I’m the one twisting the game."

Lena joined him, map in hand. "250, Lord. We’re solid—but trust’s a two-way street. You’re pushing—they’re pushing back. What’s next?"

Kael winked, shard glinting. "Next? I break their little club. Keep counting, Lena—I’ll keep winning."

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