Family system-Chapter 245: A World United Under One Rule

Hrothgar, left with no army or kingdom, did something no one expected. He surrendered.

He walked barefoot through the snow, emerging from the keep with his sword held in an outstretched hand, kneeling before Kali without hesitation. He knew he had lost.

"I would rather serve gods than die for old ghosts," he declared.

Seeing that his submission was genuine, Kali did something rare—she spared him.

With his loyalty secured, Frosthaven's warriors swore their oaths to Aetheria.

The Final Warlord – Breaking the Beast of Drekhall

King Varkas, the Beast of Drekhall, the last warlord, did not surrender like the others.

He rallied every last warrior left in the North, amassing a force of over 30,000 battle-hardened warriors to make a final stand against Kali.

His fortress, Drekhall, was more than just a castle—a symbol of defiance, a place where the strongest warriors from every northern clan had gathered for centuries.

If they fell, the North was lost.

But Kali didn't attack Drekhall. Not immediately.

Instead, she did something far worse.

She cut off their supply routes.

She sent raiding parties into their hunting grounds, burning their food stores, poisoning their wells, and ensuring that no reinforcements would ever come.

For weeks, she let them starve.

When she finally marched on Drekhall, the once-mighty warriors inside were weary, broken, and desperate.

When they charged into battle, they found Kali waiting.

She tore through their ranks like a goddess of destruction, her scythe carving through warriors as if they were nothing.

Varkas fought with unmatched fury, refusing to bow even as his warriors dropped around him.

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But in the end, even he was forced to kneel.

With Drekhall taken, the North was officially conquered.

Kali stood atop the frozen fortress, raising her bloodied scythe, shouting one final declaration:

"The North is mine. Kneel, or die."

And they knelt.

As the North burned in the war, the South fell to whispers and faith.

Amaterasu's priestesses had infiltrated the cities of the Southern Theocracy, moving from temple to temple, planting doubt in the minds of the faithful.

They didn't destroy the old gods.

They simply made people question them.

And when people begin to question, the fall is inevitable.

It started small—a priest suddenly resigning, citing a lack of faith. Then, entire congregations began shrinking, and more followers sought answers in Amaterasu's temples instead of their own.

And then, one of the Theocracy's high priests converted.

His name was Father Velkan, a man who had spent his entire life serving the old gods. And yet, after one meeting with Amaterasu, he abandoned them.

His words were spread across the South:

"I have seen divinity in its purest form. We have been deceived. The old gods are nothing but shadows of what once was. There is only one true god, and he walks among us."

The people listened. And then they believed.

By the time the ruling council of the Theocracy realized what was happening, they had already lost the support of their people.

Entire cities turned against them, temples were abandoned, and within months, the Theocracy collapsed from within.

Not a single battle had been fought.

Yet an entire empire had fallen.

And now, it belonged to Aetheria.

Jack's focus turned to the East and the West as the North was brought to heel and the South abandoned its gods.

The Eastern Alliance, a collection of merchant states, had started to realize what was happening. They had strengthened their borders, preparing for an invasion that would never come.

Because Jack would not take them through war.

He would take them through the coin.

And as for the Western Kingdoms—the last true opposition to Jack's rule?

They had begun forming their alliances, trying to rally forces against him.

They still believed they had a chance.

But Jack knew better.

They were simply delaying the inevitable.

With the North crushed and the South converted, only two fronts remained: the Eastern Alliance of Merchant Lords and the Western Kingdoms, the last bastion of resistance against Jack's empire.

Each presented a different challenge. The East was built on wealth, trade, and influence, while the West prided itself on its military traditions and knightly orders. Neither would be conquered through brute force alone.

But Jack did not need brute force.

He had patience, strategy, and overwhelming power at his disposal. And with each passing day, the walls around these last few independent regions weakened, whether they realized it or not.

The Eastern Alliance was a collection of wealthy city-states that had long believed their gold was their greatest weapon. Mercenaries protected their cities, and their rulers sat on thrones of coin, believing that no empire could ever rule them as long as they controlled the markets.

Jack saw their flaw immediately.

They had wealth, yes, but they did not have unity. Each merchant lord saw himself as a king in his own right, ruling over trade routes like they were kingdoms. They constantly plotted against one another, raising tariffs, cutting deals behind closed doors, and sabotaging competitors.

It was easy to manipulate them.

Jack did not send an army to take the East.

He sent Ela.

Ela, the undisputed trade master, did not need swords to take over the Eastern Alliance. She simply made their wealth work against them.

She began by slowly buying out key merchants, offering them better trade deals, exclusive contracts, and access to Aetheria's powerful markets.

At first, the Merchant Lords ignored it.

Then, they began to realize that they were losing money.

One by one, their best traders, suppliers, and financial backers defected to Ela's network, swearing loyalty not to a merchant king but to Aetheria itself.

The first real crack in the Eastern Alliance came when the city of Velmar declared bankruptcy.

Velmar had been one of the most powerful cities in the Alliance, controlling the largest banks and financial institutions. But without control over trade, their wealth had become useless.

Ela watched from her private balcony, sipping a fine glass of wine as the leaders of Velmar begged her for assistance.

She smiled, leaning forward. "There's only one way out of this mess. You swear loyalty to Jack. Your wealth will flow again—but only if you submit."

And they did.

The moment Velmar fell, the rest of the Eastern Alliance panicked.

Some tried to fight back, forming new tariffs and cutting off markets, but it was too late.

Ela had already seized their supply chains.

By the end of the month, the remaining cities bowed willingly, each realizing that without Aetheria's blessing, they would be nothing.

Without a single soldier stepping into battle, the entire Eastern Alliance collapsed.

Jack smirked when he heard the reports. Wealth had been their strength—but also their weakness.

And now, their gold flowed into his empire.

While the East had crumbled through economic warfare, the West was different.

The Western Kingdoms were proud, ancient civilizations built upon the ideals of honor, chivalry, and martial strength. They had been watching Jack's conquests closely; unlike the others, they had prepared for war.

They had seen what had happened to the North, the South, and the East.

And they had no intentions of surrendering.

Jack respected their resolve.

However, resolve was not enough to stop the inevitable.

The rulers of the Western Kingdoms had formed a grand alliance, bringing together knightly orders, legendary warriors, and their greatest generals. They had fortified their cities, trained new armies, and prepared for a battle they believed they could win.

Jack let them believe it.

Then, he struck.

Unlike the other conquests, this was a war on multiple fronts.

Kali led the vanguard, unleashing her divine warriors against the Western knights.

Selene took control of the battlefield, using her strategic brilliance to outmaneuver their armies.

Jack stepped onto the field, using his newfound abyssal power to bend the fabric of reality, creating unstoppable nightmares that turned the tide of battle in an instant.

For all their strength, for all their preparation, the Western Kingdoms had no chance.

Their knights fought bravely, but bravery did not stop the gods.

Jack crushed their armies in a series of devastating campaigns, each battle more one-sided than the last.

By the time they realized they were losing, it was already over.

The last of the Western Kingdoms to hold out was Argentis, the region's most powerful and well-defended fortress.

Its ruler, King Edric, was a warrior of legend. His name had been sung in ballads across the continent, and he had never lost a battle.

Until now.

Jack walked through the ruined gates of Argentis, his presence unnerving the knights who still stood inside.

Edric, bloodied and bruised, lifted his sword. "This land will never bow to you."

Jack tilted his head. "It already has. You're just too proud to admit it."

Edric lunged, attempting one final strike.

Jack caught the blade in his hand.

The entire hall fell silent.

Jack leaned in. "Kneel, and I will spare what remains of your people. Resist, and I will erase everything you have built."

For the first time in his life, Edric faltered.

He looked at the knights behind him, at the ruins of his once-great city.

Then, he fell to one knee.

And with that, the West had fallen.

Jack's empire was complete, with the North, South, East, and West now under his rule.

No kingdom remained unclaimed.

No gods challenged him.

He stood atop the world, its undisputed ruler, his name whispered in every city, temple, and battlefield.

And yet, he knew...

This was only the beginning.

As his commanders gathered again, Jack looked over his dominion and smirked.

"The world is mine. Now, let's see what lies beyond it."