Root of Dominion

The sun hung low over the jagged horizon of Isgrim, casting long shadows across the barren plains as Liam's warband crested the final ridge. Below sprawled a ramshackle settlement—huts of scavenged metal and bone clustered around a central well, its inhabitants scrambling like ants at the sight of the approaching force. Nature's Wrath numbered two hundred strong now: hardened mercenaries, bound slaves wielding crude weapons, and a core of loyalists like Hannah, her mace slung over a broad shoulder, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Liam rode at the forefront on a makeshift mount—a hulking dire boar tamed through his root manipulation, its tusks capped in iron. His body thrummed with the afterglow of recent levels; class at 32, profession edging toward 20. The air reeked of dust and fear-sweat from the settlers below. 'No mercy for resisters,' he had decreed that morning, his voice cutting through the camp like a blade. Enslavement or death—the dome's contraction left no room for weakness.

Hannah rode beside him, her leather armor scarred from prior skirmishes, thighs gripping the saddle with effortless strength. 'Looks like fifty souls down there, give or take. Easy pickings if they don't bolt.' She smirked, flexing fingers around her weapon's haft.

Liam nodded, scanning the layout with sharpened perception. F-rank mages huddled near the well, their affinities flickering weakly—fire, earth, a smattering of water. Warriors, malnourished and armed with spears, formed a ragged line at the gate. No match for his swarm or Hannah's frontline fury. 'Flank them. I'll take the center.'

The charge began with a guttural roar from the boar. Roots erupted from the parched ground at Liam's command, snaking toward the barricades like living whips. They shattered wood and stone, coiling around legs and arms, dragging defenders into the dirt. Screams pierced the air as his band crashed through, blades flashing.

Hannah leaped from her mount, mace swinging in a brutal arc that caved in a guard's helmet. Blood sprayed, and she pressed on, stomping a crawler's throat under her boot. 'For the Sovereign!' she bellowed, the cry echoed by the loyalists. Simone, absent on her scouting run to distant ruins, would have reveled in the chaos—her arrows felling foes from afar.

Liam dismounted amid the fray, light bolts lancing from his palms to incinerate a pair of archers on a watchtower. The structure toppled in a cascade of debris, burying more beneath. A burly settler lunged at him with an axe, eyes wild with desperation. Liam sidestepped, root tendrils bursting from the earth to impale the man through the gut. He twisted the vines, feeling the life ebb as EXP trickled in—small, but cumulative.

The fight lasted minutes. Bodies littered the ground, the survivors dropping weapons and kneeling in the dust. Liam strode forward, his boots crunching over fallen spears. 'Bind them,' he ordered. Slaves moved efficiently, vines and ropes securing wrists and ankles. Women clutched children, men glared defiance that crumbled under Hannah's looming presence.

In the settlement's heart, the elder—a withered woman with earth-affinity scars on her hands—crawled forward. 'Mercy, lord. We've grain, water rights. Join us, don't—'

Liam silenced her with a raised hand. He circled the group, assessing. Thirty viable adults, ten youths trainable, the rest fodder or breeders. 'You join Nature's Wrath. Swear the contract, or feed the roots.'

Murmurs rippled. A young warrior spat, 'We bow to no false king!' Hannah's mace cracked against his jaw, teeth scattering. He slumped, blood bubbling from lips.

The elder nodded frantically. 'We swear. All of us.'

Liam invoked the system, eternal bonds weaving through the air like ethereal chains. One by one, they accepted, eyes glazing as devotion took hold. The resister, dragged forward last, resisted until Hannah pinned him. The contract snapped into place, his glare turning to fanatic zeal.

With the settlement secured, Liam claimed the loot: crates of preserved meat, system credits pooled from their meager earnings—200 in total. He funneled them into his profession, unlocking blueprints for reinforced slave quarters back in the budding Thornewood. The well's water vein pulsed under his nature sense; a tap here could irrigate fields en route.

As dusk fell, the warband made camp amid the ruins. Fires crackled, slaves tending cookpots while mercenaries diced for spoils. Liam retreated to a commandeered hut, Hannah shadowing him. Inside, two new captives—a lithe scout with water affinity and a curvaceous herbalist—knelt, contracts binding their wills.

'Serve,' Liam commanded, shedding his tunic. The air thickened with tension, the women's eyes lifting to his toned form, stats-enhanced muscles rippling under scarred skin.

The scout crawled first, hands trembling as she unlaced his pants. Her mouth enveloped his cock, tentative licks turning fervent under the contract's compulsion. Liam gripped her hair, thrusting deeper, her throat constricting around him. Gags escaped, but she pushed on, saliva trailing down her chin.

Hannah watched from the corner, a hand slipping under her own leathers to rub slow circles over her clit. 'Break them proper,' she murmured, voice husky.

The herbalist joined, tongue lapping at his balls, sucking gently while her companion bobbed. Liam pulled out, flipping the scout onto all fours. He drove into her pussy, slick from arousal forced by the bond. She moaned, ass pushing back, walls clenching tight. Hannah approached, mace set aside, to straddle the woman's back, grinding against her spine while pinching nipples.

Liam pounded harder, the hut echoing with flesh slapping flesh. He switched to the herbalist next, bending her over a crate, cock slamming into her ass without preamble. She cried out, the tight ring stretching, but the contract turned pain to ecstasy. Hannah knelt before her, fingers plunging into the scout's dripping folds, then feeding them to the bound woman's mouth.

Climax hit Liam like a root surge. He filled the herbalist's ass, hot spurts claiming her depths. Pulling free, he watched cum leak out as she shuddered. The scout lapped it clean, tongue delving deep, while Hannah claimed her turn—straddling Liam's lap, riding his still-hard length with grinding hips.

'They'll breed strong stock,' Hannah gasped, breasts heaving as she bounced. Liam thrust up, hands bruising her thighs, until she clenched around him, orgasm ripping through. He followed, seeding her pussy with forceful jets.

Spent, they disentangled, the captives curling at their feet, faces flushed with aftershocks. Outside, the warband feasted, tales of the raid already swelling Liam's legend.

As stars pierced the sky, a system ping arrived: Quest Update: Enslave 5 more settlements before the horde. Reward: Profession Evolution. Liam's lips curled. Thornewood would rise on these broken backs.

The march resumed at dawn, captives in tow, the dome's shadow lengthening. Power grew with every chain forged.