The air was thick with tension as Leon moved through the ruined streets of the newly conquered territories. Blood, sweat, and the metallic tang of previous battles clung to his senses. His Blood Scent flared sharply—multiple hostile signatures, scattered yet coordinated, converging on a single point.System Alert: Hostile signatures detected. Quantity: 30. Multi-faction coalition. Proximity: 4 km. Tactical Alert: Extreme. Blood Scent Skill: Hyper Awareness Active. Multi-Target Tracking Enabled. Duration: 12 hours remaining.Leon’s jaw tightened. These were no longer isolated factions—they had allied, pooling resources, manpower, and intelligence. They believed strength in numbers could challenge the butcher. They were wrong.Cleaver in hand, Leon advanced cautiously through collapsed buildings and crumbled roads, muscles coiled, senses alert. Every shift in the air, every faint scent, every metallic tang was fed directly into his instincts.The first group appeared from the shadows—sm

The horizon was painted in shades of steel and ash as Leon approached the next territory. Smoke rose from distant settlements, the metallic tang of previous battles lingering in the air. Blood Scent pulsed sharply in his veins, alerting him to movement—dozens, maybe hundreds, of hostile signatures ahead. These were no ordinary fighters. This was a fully fortified faction, organized, trained, and prepared for war.System Alert: Hostile signatures detected. Quantity: 50+. Fortified faction. Proximity: 5 km. Tactical Alert: Critical. Blood Scent Skill: Hyper Awareness Active. Multi-Target Tracking Enabled. Duration: 12 hours remaining. Environmental Prediction Enabled.Leon’s cleaver rested in his grip, muscles coiled like springs. He crouched behind a ruined wall, eyes scanning the perimeter of a massive fortress built from reinforced steel and scavenged concrete. Watchtowers loomed, armed guards patrolled with precision, traps likely embedded throughout. Yet, despite their fortificatio

The sun had barely pierced the horizon, painting the valley in cold, steel-gray light. Smoke and the metallic tang of past battles lingered in the air as Leon moved through the jagged terrain, cleaver in hand. His Blood Scent pulsed sharply, alerting him to movement—more than a hundred hostile signatures, trained, armed, and concentrated within the heart of enemy territory.System Alert: Hostile signatures detected. Quantity: 100+. Multi-layered fortress city. Proximity: 6.5 km. Tactical Alert: Extreme. Blood Scent Skill: Hyper Awareness Active. Multi-Target Tracking Enabled. Duration: 12 hours remaining. Environmental Prediction Enabled.This was no ordinary stronghold. The fortress city sprawled across a rocky plateau, encased in reinforced walls, patrolled by disciplined soldiers, and layered with traps, barricades, and hidden kill zones. The enemy had underestimated the butcher. Leon did not wait. He would carve his path through the heart of their dominion.The first patrol moved

The march began before dawn. Boots thundered against the blackened earth as Leon’s army advanced through the valley, banners snapping in the wind, their crimson sigils catching the faint light of a dying moon. The air smelled of metal and ash. Every man and woman who followed him knew they weren’t marching to survive — they were marching to conquer or die.At the front of the column, Leon rode in silence. His coat flared behind him, a tattered banner of its own, his cleaver resting across his lap. The system’s faint hum echoed in his mind, constantly feeding him information.System Alert: Objective: Initiate War of Shadows.Primary Goal: Infiltrate Syndicate Border Outpost “Helmor’s Gate.” Estimated Enemy Strength: 5000+. Hidden Elite Presence: Confirmed. Success Reward: System Upgrade – Overlord Tier Evolution (Locked).Helmor’s Gate — a fortress built into the cliffs, rumored to be impenetrable. For decades, it served as the Syndicate’s shield against northern invaders. Now, it was t

The wind howled across the ruins of Helmor’s valley. The once-proud fortress now stood as a scar of rebellion, its banners red with victory and blood. For days, smoke had coiled into the heavens, a silent declaration that the Syndicate’s dominion had been broken.But far beyond those mountains, deep within the glass towers of the Syndicate’s Citadel, the message had already reached their council.And they were not pleased.The CitadelThe great chamber shimmered with cold light. Holographic screens flickered above a circular table where the Syndicate’s highest officers sat — faceless shadows draped in silver.At the head of the table stood Seraph, the Supreme Commander. His armor gleamed like liquid mercury, and his silver eyes glowed faintly under the white light.He stared at the projection before him — the image of Helmor’s Gate in ruins, flames consuming its walls, and the crimson banner flying at the top.“Who did this?” His voice was calm, too calm.An officer spoke from the lef