The dead obeyed.
But the dead… were not enough.
I stood at the highest point of the castle, overlooking the vast lands beyond. My undead army waited below—silent, tireless, eternal. A force of inevitability.
And yet…
I knew better.
Armies win battles.
Alliances win wars.
My fingers brushed lightly against the air, and shadows gathered at my command.
"Power is not taken in a single strike," I murmured. "It is woven."
Behind me, Morgause stepped forward, her presence calm but sharp.
"You intend to expand beyond Camelot already?" she asked.
I smiled faintly.
"I intend to make Camelot irrelevant."
She didn't question it.
She understood.
I raised my hand, summoning the map of the surrounding kingdoms—not a physical map, but one formed from magic, drawn from memory, knowledge… and foresight. Kingdoms flickered into existence before us, each one a piece on a board.
Weak rulers.
Ambitious warlords.
Hidden sorcerers.
All of them… potential assets.
"Some will kneel," I said calmly. "Others will need to be convinced."
The First Rule of Conquest
Do not fight every enemy.
Turn them into tools.
I began with the easiest targets.
The Broken Lords
Small kingdoms. Fractured leadership. Internal conflict.
I opened a shadow portal and stepped through, appearing before a feasting hall filled with nobles mid-argument. Their voices died instantly as I emerged, shadows curling around me like living darkness.
Fear.
Immediate.
Perfect.
"You will serve me," I said simply.
No threats.
No explanations.
Just certainty.
A few resisted.
They died instantly.
Their bodies didn't even hit the ground before shadows consumed them.
The rest…
Knelt.
I didn't stay.
I didn't need to.
A mark of shadow burned into their souls—subtle, invisible, absolute. Loyalty enforced not by fear alone… but by control.
The Warbands
Next came the warlords.
Savage. Brutal. Independent.
These were not men who bowed easily.
So I gave them a choice.
I summoned one of them to me—dragged through shadows, forced to kneel before my throne of darkness. A towering brute, clad in iron and arrogance.
"You think you can command me?" he spat.
I didn't respond.
I simply looked at him.
Sauron's will pressed down.
Ancient. Crushing. Absolute.
His defiance broke in seconds.
His knees hit the ground.
His mind followed.
"You will lead your armies under my banner," I said softly. "Or you will cease to exist."
He chose correctly.
And through him…
I gained thousands more.
The Hidden Ones
Finally… the most dangerous.
Sorcerers. Witches. Entities that lingered in forgotten places, beyond the reach of kings and knights.
These required… finesse.
I entered their domains not as a conqueror.
But as something worse.
An equal.
"Join me," I told them. "Or be left behind when the world changes."
Some saw the truth immediately.
The power I carried.
The inevitability of my rise.
They pledged themselves willingly.
Others hesitated.
They didn't hesitate for long.
By the time I returned…
I was no longer building an army.
I was building a kingdom.
The Structure of My Dominion
I stood once more before Morgause, Angor Rot at my side, shadows swirling in quiet anticipation.
"It's done," I said.
Not fully.
But enough.
"Speak," Morgause said.
I outlined it clearly.
My Forces Now:
Undead Legion → Endless, unyielding, sustained by my magic Warbands → Thousands of living soldiers under controlled leadership Subjugated Kingdoms → Resources, supplies, political influence Allied Sorcerers → Magical support, knowledge, reinforcement
"And above them all…"
I stepped forward, shadows bending to my will.
"Me."
Morgause smiled faintly.
"You've turned a rebellion into an empire."
I shook my head slightly.
"Not yet."
My gaze shifted…
Toward Camelot.
"That," I said quietly, "is still unfinished."
Far away, I could feel it.
Merlin
Watching.
Waiting.
Preparing.
Good.
Let him.
Because when I returned…
It wouldn't be as a rogue sorceress.
Not as a traitor.
Not even as Morgana.
It would be as something far greater.
A ruler.
A conqueror.
A force that even fate itself could not contain.
And Camelot…
Would either kneel…
Or burn.