Awakening Domination System: But I'm a Slave?
Chapter 71: Varnacite Vein [6]

Chapter 71: Varnacite Vein [6]

[STATUS WINDOW]

Name: Brandon (Past Life: Alaric Noir)

Race: Human

Age: 19

Title: Slave, Model Servant, (The Fallen King)

Essence Path: The Path of #$#&##@##

Sub-Path: Flame Essence

Rank: E+

EXP: 930 / 1800—> 1770 / 3900

Stats:

STR: 56 —> 60

AGI: 51 —> 55

END: 49 —> 53

WIL: 35 —> 39

CHA: 41 —> 45

INT: 39 (??) —> 43 (??)

Free stats points: 0 —> 12

Domination Points: 310 —> 1210

Main Quest: Subjugate Selene Glimore (64% Progressed)

System Level: 2 (Requires 3000 Domination Points to Upgrade)

Skill Tree: Basic Fire spell, Scorchblade Arts (S)

Shop: Basic Tier Items

Obedience Meter: Target Not Found!

Loyalty Meter: Target not found!

Harem Tracker: 0

DP Exchange: Available

??? (Locked – Requires System Level 3)

Alaric took in the contents the glowing texts on the window screen were showing.

Well, that’s heck of growth. He amused, but then looked around at others, who had their heads low, probably mourning over the fallen ones.

He exhaled, clutching his bandaged side, which was wrapped with torn fabric of his cloak.

But I barely escaped, if she wouldn’t had been with me...

Then he looked at the cloaked figure, sitting beside him, eyes closed, breathe even.

I need to grow stronger, at least to defend myself. He clenched his fists and then closed his eyes too.

Then after resting for a while Henrik rose to his feet, brushing the dirt from his gloves.

His eyes swept across the small resting party, taking note of the weariness in their limbs.

"Let’s move on, our job here is not done."

The others from Black Thorn, Stoneveil, and Redtrail Houses nodded without complaint.

They fell back into a loose formation, some still limping, others helping their wounded quietly, and began walking deeper into the forest.

Alaric and Sari walked at the rare of the formation. Alaric still limped, putting a hand on his side, jaw clenched.

After several minutes, the terrain shifted. The trees thinned and gave way to a low slope of cracked stone and exposed soil.

Moss clung to the edges of the rocks, but beneath that, glimmering faintly in the broken light, was a vein of dark, violet-blue crystal threading through the earth like a buried serpent.

The Varnacite.

It pulsed subtly, as if the light within it breathed alive but dormant.

Unlike other ores, it gave off a strange, unsettling hum that one could almost feel in their bones.

The surface shimmered faintly with flickers of essence, veins branching out in fractal-like patterns.

They all gathered before it, eyes scanning the newly unearthed formation. Even the more stoic members of the group looked mildly impressed.

Henrik stepped forward, knelt beside the vein, and ran his gloved hand just above its surface, careful not to touch it directly. A few others joined him, bringing out their measuring instruments and essence compasses.

Quiet murmurs passed between them as they began the assessment, checking for purity, activity, and elemental interference.

This was what they’d come for.

While most remained focused on the task, a few stood back, weapons still loosely in hand, eyes on the woods.

They moved deeper the walls pulsed with raw veins of Varnacite.

The dim lantern light flickered against the mineral-laced rock, casting fractured glows and restless shadows along the rough path.

Alaric trailed slightly behind the main group, his gaze drifting along the ground, watchful.

Then his gaze caught a shimmer.

Not from the Varnacite.

From something else.

He turned his head and saw something tucked between the base of a cracked wall and a web of exposed roots, something pale pushed through the stone.

He stepped closer, crouched, and brushed aside a layer of moss and dust.

A flower.

Delicate, silver-white with faint violet tips, its petals shimmered faintly with an inner luminescence, like a frozen drop of moonlight. It pulsed once, softly.

There were more.

Dozens of them. Sprouting in narrow patches where the Varnacite clustered most densely, some growing straight out of crystalline fissures, their glow almost camouflaged against the mineral’s gleam.

Are these what, I think they are? His eyes narrowed, scanning them with recognisation.

He had read many books in his time at the cottage, so his knowledge was exceeding.

Then others noticed too.

A low murmur passed through the surveyors and guards.

Henrik made his way forward, staring wide-eyed at the nearest cluster.

"Lunthera..." he whispered. "Growing inside an active Varnacite chamber? That’s not natural..."

Unease stirred among the miners. Lunthera wasn’t just rare, it was alchemically potent, used in everything from basic potions to advanced elixirs.

And here, in this mine... there was a field of it.

Among the miners, tense glances were exchanged.

Some shifted their footing. A few of the guards adjusted their grips on their weapons, subtle but unmistakable.

Fingers brushed against their hilts. Greed flickered behind uncertain eyes.

And then—

A weight fell upon them. Like a curtain of cold iron.

The air grew still. Dense.

Everyone turned.

There, Sari stood just a few feet behind the nearest guard, silent and still. Her obsidian blade rested lazily against her shoulder, but the look in her eyes was anything but casual.

It wasn’t a threat. It was a warning.

Make one move, and the earth would be stained again.

The tension broke like glass.

A long exhale rippled through the group.

The greedy stares dropped. Hands fell away from weapons.

Henrik cleared his throat and barked a sharp command, "Lads lets hurry up, we don’t wanna linger here deep in the forest without proper protection."

No one dared argue.

Quietly, they did what they came for, marking the vein, mapping the perimeter, recording the presence of the blossoms. No one touched the flowers.

And when the assessment was done, they turned from the vein and began moving back toward the forest’s edge.

After walking for nearly an hour, the group finally emerged from the forest.

Waiting near the edge of the trail were familiar faces, Baron Varell, Baroness Elira, Selene, Duke Garran, and a handful of their personal guards.

The nobles stood under a canvas shade hastily set up between two wagons, speaking in low voices that stopped the moment the party appeared.

Henrik stepped forward. Dirt clung to his boots and the hem of his coat, but his posture remained firm.

Then he bowed towards them and explained what happened, from the beast attack, to the discovery of Lunatheras.

Varell’s eyes widened.

Selene’s brows furrowed slightly. Baroness Elira blinked.

Duke Garran stroked his beard thoughtfully, masking the glint of curiosity in his eyes.

"That might explain the unrest among the beasts, why they’ve been agitated and abandoning their territories to move in this direction. Lunatheras are rich in raw essence. It’s not hard to guess what drew them here."

Then the Duke turned to the remaining guards, surveyors, and miners.

"All of you, rest well. You have my thanks for your service," he said, his voice steady.

Then, dipping his head slightly, "And... I’m sorry for your loss. May Great Ashurael cleanse their souls with His Divine Flames."

The men bowed deeply, their expressions grim, and quietly dispersed.

Alaric stepped away, heading toward their wagon. Sari followed silently, a step behind.

As he glanced back, he noticed Baron Varell and Baroness Elira in a hushed yet tense exchange. Debating the ownership of the newly discovered vein. But Duke Garran, standing tall between them, silenced the dispute with a calm finality.

"I’ve already given my word," he said. "And I will not go back on it."

[Quest: Stake Your Claim (Completed!)]

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