Cosmic Lord: The Error Awakens
Chapter 83: The Curse in the Crystal

Chapter 83: The Curse in the Crystal

The seventy-seventh dawn rose over Kael El’s Ashen Empire with a faint shimmer of gold, the 10,906 square kilometers of his Territory Level 5 dominion pulsing with quiet strength. The capital city stood at 250 buildings, bone steel and golden turrets catching the light like a jagged crown as 2,688,000 subjects fueled the empire’s heartbeat—forges glowing, fields swaying, streets alive with purpose. Kael lounged in the Lord’s Estate hall, Stormforged Blade across his lap, its shard-pommel humming softly. EX: Dragonflame Reaver rested at his hip, and Stormhide Armor clad him, its scars a testament to his reign. His flirty smirk played across his lips, a cool dominance radiating as he flexed EX: Gold Dominion, golden veins threading the stone floor beneath his boots.

Day 77. Lyra’s licking wounds, Myra’s back with tricks—let’s see her hand. 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 throne—coalition or not, I’m the one they fear. The Nexus whispered through the hall: "Kael’s 71, gold shines!" He tilted his head, smirking at the air. Shine? I burn.

"Day 77: Post-Peace Period. Territory Level: 5 – Commanding Lord. Territory Size: 10,906 sq. km. Population: 2,688,000 Subjects. Food Stock: 23 Days. Resource Yield: +100% (Lv. 5 Bonus) + 100% (SSS: Resource Lord). Resources: 1,050,000/1,000,000 for Lv. 5 Completion – Excess Banked: 60,000. Summon Limit: 20/Day. Territory Lv. 6 Conditions: Reach Level 105, Continental Empire (500+ buildings) [250/500], Defeat 100,000-stat Entity [Not Met], 5,000,000 Resources [1,050,000/5M], 250,000 Gold/Month [155,000/250,000], 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 spun the Stormforged Blade lazily, shard singing as he eyed the hall’s bustle. Lena scribbled at the map table, Thora hammered a gold-steel brace, Veyna sharpened arrows by the hearth, and the harem mingled—Elys sparking, Rhea warming the air. "Level 71, first place," he murmured, voice teasing but edged. "Myra’s 64, Lyra’s 63—coalition’s scared, huh? Let’s rattle ’em more." He’d barely finished when Veyna stood, wolves growling at her feet.

"Lord!" she called, striding over, bow in hand. "Myra’s envoy’s back—Syris and two others, 100 kilometers east, moving slow. Crystal banners again, carrying something big this time."

Kael’s grin widened, predatory. "Syris, huh? Alliance pitch didn’t stick, so she’s doubling down. Bring ’em in—full guard. Drayce, Thora, with me." He stood, blade over his shoulder, shard humming louder as he moved to the throne.

By mid-morning, the hall was set—Kael on his golden seat, Drayce and Thora flanking him, Veyna’s wolves pacing the edges. Lena stood by the map, harem in the wings. Syris entered, same sharp cheekbones and glass-like eyes, bowing low with his two escorts. One carried a velvet-draped box, crystal glinting beneath. His voice was smooth, but tighter than before.

"Lord Kael El, Champion Lord, first of the Nexus, Lady Myra sends renewed greetings. Your strength against Lyra proves your might—60,000 of hers remain, 1,500 kilometers east of her last stand. She offers this gift as goodwill." He nodded, and the escort unveiled the box—a crystal sphere, fist-sized, swirling with violet and gold light, pulsing like a trapped storm.

Kael leaned forward, smirk unwavering. "Goodwill, huh? Lyra’s 63, got mauled—my 500,000 sent her running. Myra’s 64, 60,000 strong, 1,500 kilometers off, and now she’s gifting after I swatted her scouts? What’s the sphere do, Syris?"

Syris’s smile was thin, practiced. "A Nexus amplifier—doubles your resource yield for a week, perhaps two. Myra seeks trust—Lyra’s chaos threatens us all, and your gold could end it. She renews her alliance offer: crush Lyra, split her lands."

Kael stood, stepping down to take the sphere, rolling it in his palm. It thrummed, warm and heavy, violet-gold light flickering. "Trust, huh? Lyra’s captain sang about a coalition—Myra, Lyra, Gavrin, Sylth, scared I’ll hit 100. You pitching alliance while plotting with her?" He tossed it to Thora, who caught it with a grunt.

Syris’s eyes flickered, but he held steady. "Coalition? Rumors, Lord. Myra stands alone—Lyra’s chaos is her foe, not her friend. The sphere proves her intent."

Thora hefted it, squinting. "Feels off, Lord—Nexus energy, but twisted. Like it’s hiding something." She tapped it with her hammer, and a sharp crack split the air—not breaking, but alive.

Kael’s grin sharpened. "Twisted, huh? Let’s see." He took it back, gripping it tight, and a jolt hit—not memory, but pain, cold and searing, violet tendrils lashing up his arm. A curse—Myra’s trap. He laughed, EX: Devourer Blood flaring, a dark gold pulse surging through his veins. The tendrils writhed, then dissolved, sucked into his skin, the sphere dimming to clear crystal. The hall went silent, Syris’s composure cracking.

"Nice try," Kael said, tossing the dead sphere at Syris’s feet, where it shattered. "Cursed—thought it’d slow me down? My blood says no. Tell Myra her gift’s trash, and her alliance is off. Cross 1,400 kilometers, and I’ll melt her towers. Veyna, out."

Syris bowed, face pale, and retreated with his escorts under Veyna’s wolves’ snarls. Kael paced back to the throne, shard singing louder, blood still tingling. Drayce stepped up, glaive in hand. "Lord, that was bold—Myra’s not playing soft anymore."

"Never was," Kael said, sitting, blade across his knees. "Coalition’s real—Syris lied through his teeth. Lena, numbers?"

Lena approached, voice calm. "Buildings hit 253 this morning, Lord—forges are steady. Resources at 1,070,000, excess banked at 80,000. Gold’s at 160,000 monthly—taxes bumped it again. Army’s elite trained up—2,500 now."

Kael winked, leaning back. "253’s good—push to 255 by dusk, bank 100,000 by tomorrow. Myra’s 64, scared enough to curse me—means I’m winning." He tapped the shard, eyes narrowing. "That blood trick—Devourer’s old, Thora. Ate her curse like breakfast. What’s it mean?"

Thora set her hammer down, gold dust on her grin. "Old power, Lord—older than the Nexus, maybe the Empress. That shard’s waking it—sang when you purged the curse. You’re tied to something big."

Kael’s smirk softened, curious. "Big, huh? Empress fought ’The Error,’ shard says dominion’s a cage—now my blood’s eating curses. Lena, you’ve seen me devour stats—ever think it’s more?"

Lena folded her arms, eyes steady. "Always, Lord. Vex’s stats, Lyra’s elites—your EX: Devourer Blood takes more than it should. 1,467 stats devoured, and now this? It’s not just power—it’s... primal. Myra’s curse was Nexus-born—your blood’s beyond it."

Kael laughed, spinning the blade, shard’s song rising. "Primal—love that. Myra’s 64, Lyra’s 63—they’re scared of 71, but this?" He flexed his hand, gold veins pulsing in the floor. "This is why. Veyna, wolves to 1,500 kilometers—Myra’s next move’s coming."

Veyna nodded, restringing her bow. "Wolves’ll stalk—her towers won’t sleep easy."

The hall settled, tension simmering. Kael called the harem closer, voice a teasing drawl. "Ladies, 2.7 million souls, 10,906 square kilometers, 1,070,000 resources, Level 71—Myra’s 64, tried to curse me. Blood ate it. Thoughts?"

Elys sparked, grinning. "You’re a monster, Kael—her curse didn’t stand a chance. She’s desperate."

Rhea’s flames danced, voice soft. "Desperate, but clever—watch her, Lord. That blood’s yours, but it’s old—older than us."

Kael’s grin sharpened, predatory. "Old’s good—I’m the new storm. Lena, squeeze the taxes—Thora, forge harder—Veyna, hunt deeper. Myra’s coalition’s cracking—I’ll shatter it." He stood, blade humming, shard alive in his grip.

The day marched on, forges thundering as gold steel clad 254, then 255 by dusk. Resources hit 1,080,000, excess banked at 90,000, gold ticking to 160,000 monthly. Kael strode the ramparts, shard-pommel glowing, staring east where Myra schemed. The Empress’s war, his blood’s hunger—pieces falling into place. He smirked into the dusk. "Curse me, plot me—doesn’t matter. I’m the one who devours."

Lena joined him, map in hand. "255, Lord—solid. But coalitions don’t break easy—trust your gut, not just your blood."

Kael winked, shard singing. "Gut, blood, blade—got it all, Lena. Myra’s next mistake’s her last."