The blood had dried by morning.
Reed sat in silence, staring at his reflection in the smoke pool. His eyes were rimd with red, veins like black threads pulsing beneath the surface. The System had changed. No—he had changed.
Bloodcode: 1/7 Active.
The words still hovered like an infection in his mind.
But there was no ti for reflection. Not in Goblin’s Hollow. Not when survival ant domination.
"Tell about the lands beyond," Reed ordered, pacing the war-cave like a wolf.
Shia knelt, map hide unrolled between them. Her fingers, long and scarred, pointed northward to a shaded grove sketched in red ochre.
"Feyroot," she said. "A forest domain. Fertile. Unspoiled. Ruled by Lord Hadren of House Thorne. Noble-born. Silver blood. Full command of his System from birth."
Reed narrowed his eyes. "What’s his Hero?"
"A Sylvan Knight. Bow-wielding. A-rank."
He laughed—a hollow, guttural sound. "Perfect. Let’s see how silver tastes when it bleeds."
RECON
Reed and Shia moved before dawn. They traveled light—no goblins, no gear beyond blade and cloak. Just the two of them, slipping through the blighted edge of Goblin’s Hollow into the greener reaches of the borderlands.
The air changed fast.
Where Goblin’s Hollow reeked of sulfur and ash, Feyroot breathed life—lush trees, mossy stones, crystal-clear streams. Even the wind felt alive.
Reed hated it instantly.
It reminded him of everything he was denied.
They crouched near the edge of a clearing, just outside bow range. Shia pulled out a crude spyglass scavenged from a dead rchant.
Through the lens, they saw Hadren’s outpost—a tower carved from living wood, surrounded by armored sentries in forest-green. Banners fluttered with the Thorne sigil: a white stag impaled on black thorns.
"There," Shia whispered. "That’s him."
Hadren strolled among his guards, dressed in soft silks and light armor. His golden hair glead. He laughed easily. Too easily.
"He’s not afraid," Reed muttered.
"He should be," Shia replied.
That evening, Reed returned alone and sent a goblin ssenger under truce: a crude letter sealed with blood, declaring his presence and intent to speak.
Hadren’s reply ca the next morning—delivered by a well-fed courier, smug and clean.
To the "Lord" of Goblin’s Hollow,
I admire your sense of drama, though your lack of etiquette is as expected.
I do not engage with vermin, nor recognize their dirt-pits as sovereign.
Should you continue to encroach, I’ll have your pets hunted and nailed to my trees.
Sincerely,
Lord Hadren of House Thorne
Protector of Feyroot
The letter was perfud.
Reed crumpled it and dropped it into the fire.
"We take his land," he said, eyes cold. "And we bury him in his trees."
Reed began preparing.
The Smokehouse now fed the tribe, and he had enough EXP from hunting to unlock a new construction:
[Training Arena - 75 EXP] UNLOCKED
Goblin fighters began drilling properly—no longer just wild swipes but coordinated strikes. Reed watched from the ledge above the pit, calling down orders, correcting posture, punishing hesitation.
He learned sothing: goblins didn’t need kindness. They needed clarity.
He gave it to them in blood.
Shia approached that night, her voice quieter than usual.
"You’re different," she said. "Colder."
Reed said nothing.
She sat beside him, close for once.
"I wasn’t born from the System like the others," she whispered. "I was rejected by it."
He turned to her. "What do you an?"
"I was summoned... but broken. My stats glitched. My summoner tried to erase . But I survived."
"Erase you how?"
Her eyes darkened. "He used fire. Magic. Chains. When I didn’t die, he threw into the Hollow, thinking I’d rot."
Reed looked at her scars—old burns, once hidden, now plain.
"Now you serve ."
"I serve because you didn’t flinch when you saw what I was."
Reed nodded once. "Then help break them all."
That night, two things happened.
First, Shia returned with a spy’s report: Hadren’s eastern watchpost was undermanned. His patrols were predictable. His forces relied on ritual and honor.
Second, Reed awoke to a blade pressed against his throat.
A masked man crouched over him, reeking of lavender and poison.
"Die quietly, filth," the assassin hissed.
Reed didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
He smiled.
Because the System pulsed in his skull.
[Bloodcode Surge Available]
Activate? [Y/N]
He thought: Yes.
The next second, blood sprayed the walls.
Reed’s body shifted—veins bulged, fingers lengthened, and sothing growled from inside his chest. He moved too fast for the assassin to react.
He tore the man’s throat out with his bare teeth.
By the ti Shia arrived, Reed stood naked and twitching over the corpse, his skin cracked with glowing red lines.
"You’re not human anymore," she whispered.
"I know," he said. "And I don’t care."
Reed stood at the edge of the Hollow, flanked by his new warband—twenty trained goblin killers, all marked with blood-runes Shia had carved into their arms.
Behind him, smoke curled from the Arena and newly-dug spike pits. Ahead, the woods of Feyroot waited.
Reed raised the stolen stag-banner and snapped it in half.
Then the System pinged:
[NEW QUEST: DOMAIN EXPANSION – CONQUER FEYROOT OUTPOST]
Reward: 500 EXP / New Territory / Item: Thornblade
Risk: HIGH
Note: Questline difficulty scaled to Bloodmarked Tier
He grinned.
"Tonight," he said, "we start a war."
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