Awakening Domination System: But I'm a Slave?
Chapter 72: Bonus Rewards

Chapter 72: Bonus Rewards

[Ding!]

[Quest: Stake Your Claim]

Objective: Assert your authority over the council regarding the Varnacite Veins.

Optional Bonus: Undermine the Duke’s subtle maneuver without direct confrontation.

Progress: Completed!

[Evaluating Rewards...]

[Ding!]

[+150 Exp | +200 DP +10 Free Stats]

[Bonus Reward: x1 Random Skill Upgrade Card | +250 DP +2 All Stats]

Rank: E+

EXP: 1770 / 3900—> 1920 / 3900

Stats:

STR: 60 —> 62

AGI: 55 —> 57

END: 53 —> 55

WIL: 39 —> 41

CHA: 45 —> 47

INT: 43 (??) —> 45 (??)

Free stats points: 12 —> 22

Domination Points: 1210 —> 1660

A series of notifications blinked to life in front of Alaric.

Then his brow raised at the bonus rewards section.

"Skill upgrade card?" he murmured under his breath, careful not to draw attention from the resting survivors nearby.

The system promptly responded to his curiosity.

[Upgrade target will be selected randomly from current skill list.]

[Do you wish to use x1 Random Skill Upgrade Card now?]

He responded mentally, Yes.

[Ding!]

[Your skill: Basic Fire Spell has upgraded to Intermediate Fire Spell (F)]

[Host’s knowledge regarding flame essence deepened]

[All fire-related attacks power increased by 10%]

The moment the notification appeared, Alaric felt his mind go dizzy, as if someone had poured warm honey directly into his thoughts.

Knowledge flooded his consciousness, not just facts, but understanding.

He could sense the flame essence around him now.

The dizziness passed as quickly as it had come, leaving him with a profound sense of... competence. His magical education in this new life had been moderate at best, but now he felt like he understood fire on a level that would have taken years of study to achieve naturally.

Interesting, he thought, flexing his fingers and feeling the flame essence respond more readily to his mental touch.

Very interesting indeed.

Then his gaze flicked back to the panel, and he raised a brow at something he’d overlooked in his initial excitement.

"System, what does that ’F’ mean, near the skill?" he asked quietly, crossing one arm over his chest while stroking his chin with the other hand thoughtfully.

[It is the rank of your skill.]

[Once a skill surpasses the Basic tier, Intermediate and Advanced skills receive rank grades.]

[Intermediate Skill Ranks: F → E → D → C → B]

[Upon reaching Intermediate (B), skill will automatically upgrade to Advanced (A)

"Oh," Alaric nodded slowly, processing this information.

He took a final look at his updated stats then dismissed the window with a thought.

Then without a word, he climbed into the carriage.

The velvet interior was warm and dimly lit.

He leaned to the side, elbow resting near the window, cheek against his fist.

Then closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, Selene entered the wagon and gracefully took the seat across from him, while Sari remained with the coachman outside.

Alaric sensed her presence but didn’t bother opening his eyes. The wheels creaked to life, and the wagon lurched forward.

Selene studied him in silence at first, her gaze traveling over his form until it caught on the wound at his side.

"Are you alright?"

Alaric’s eyes fluttered open, and he straightened a little before giving her a curt nod.

"Yes, I am." Then he leaned back, staring at the ceiling above.

His brows drew together as if wrestling with thoughts just beyond his grasp, trying to piece together fragments that wouldn’t quite fit.

Finally, he spoke.

"Lady Selene, may I ask you something?"

"Of course." Selene tilted her head, her eyes glinting with amusement, lips curving slightly.

"Yesterday at the council hall, why did you lie to them? Why tell them I’m your nephew?"

Her smile widened, thoroughly entertained by his directness.

"Didn’t I tell you before? When I said that if you followed me, I’d give you not only food and shelter, but also a role to fulfill?"

She leaned forward, closing the distance between them. "Well, now you have your role."

She pressed a finger against his chest, her touch light but pointed. "And you’d better fulfill it well, my dear nephew."

Alaric stared at her as she poked his chest, then a slow smirk spread across his face. In one fluid motion, he caught her hand in his and spoke in a low, and cool tone.

"Then what exactly are you expecting me to do, my dear aunt?"

Selene’s eyes widened at the sudden contact, the shift in his tone caught her off guard.

She yanked her hand free and pressed herself back against her seat, fixing him with something dangerously close to a glare.

"Don’t push yourself too far, boy."

Alaric merely shrugged, unfazed by her warning.

"Forgive me if I crossed a boundary, but weren’t you the one who said I should fulfill my role as your nephew? I’m merely doing as instructed." He leaned back with deliberate casualness, crossing his arms behind his head.

Selene clicked her tongue in irritation, reclining into her own seat and closed her eyes.

After a few tense seconds, she spoke without opening them. "You’ll stay with Sari tonight. I still need a day or two to make preparations for your new accommodations."

Alaric simply nodded, saying nothing more, though the ghost of that smirk still played at the corners of his mouth.

[Main quest: Subjugate Selene Glimor (69% Progressed)]

A few minutes later, the carriage rolled to a stop at the town’s outskirts.

Alaric gave Selene a brief nod before stepping out and disappearing into the modest cottage. The wagon resumed its journey without him, and they finally reached the Glimor estate,

There, Selene stepped out gracefully, her expression unreadable.

Tap! Tap!

She made her way inside, her heels tapping softly along the floor as she passed through the dimly lit inner corridor.

Finally stopping before a particular door.

Knock!

She knocked once.

A slurred voice drifted from within. "It’s open."

Selene twisted the knob and slipped inside, closing the door behind her with deliberate quiet click.

The room reeked of stale wine.

A corpulent man sprawled across the bed, his bloodshot eyes struggling to focus, his cheeks flushed a mottled red from drink.

She approached with measured steps and settled into the chair beside his bed, her posture perfectly composed.

Then she asked, "Can you show me the soul ink records of the slaves. Husband."