The morning mist in Black-Grit Outpost smelled of wet ash and ozone. Where chaotic stalls once sold questionable herbs and cracked iron weapons, neat stone storefronts now bore the carved silver mark of the Shadow-Rest Association. Inside the central trade hall, Clone Four—the Merchant—sat behind an obsidian desk, flicking abacus beads forged from spirit-jade. Across from him stood three shivering representatives of the local mining syndicates, piling leather pouches packed with unrefined volcanic quartz onto the table. "Three thousand low-grade spirit stones," the lead syndicate head stammered, bowing so low his nose nearly brushed the floor. "This is fifty percent of our monthly yield, as required by the Association's new mineral registry." "Forty percent," the Merchant corrected smoothly, his voice carrying the calm, absolute authority of his Golden Tongue talent. "The Shadow-Rest Association does not extort; we regulate. The remaining ten percent is yours to reinvest in your miners' equipment—which you will purchase exclusively from our forge down the street." He swept a sleeve over the table. The pouches vanished into his spatial ring, replaced by three small porcelain vials containing seventy-percent pure cleansing pills—vital for miners suffering from volcanic lung rot. "Your compliance is noted," the Merchant added with a faint smile. "Go." The syndicate heads grabbed the vials as if they were holy relics and fled the hall. Through the neural link, Lylin monitored the transaction from his throne room in the Sinkhole Sanctuary. The flow of wealth across the Shadow-Veil Realm was no longer a trickle; it was a roaring river. Every transaction, every toll, and every refined pill sold poured energy directly into his system reservoir. SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: MINERAL MONOPOLIZATION COMPLETE: BLACK-GRIT OUTPOST. DAILY COMMERCIAL HARVEST: +1,200 SYSTEM ENERGY UNITS. TOTAL SYSTEM RESERVES: 4,070 / 5,000 UNITS. TIER 3 SYSTEM ASCENSION: REQUIREMENTS MET. "Ascend," Lylin commanded without hesitation. A deep, violent thrum shuddered through the bedrock of two distinct human worlds simultaneously. In the Azure Cloud Domain, the Sinkhole Sanctuary expanded by another hundred yards; its walls turned to polished dragon-vein stone etched with glowing silver runes. In the Shadow-Veil Realm, Outpost Two's subterranean citadel hardened into an unbreachable basalt fortress. The golden orb hovering in Lylin's dantian spun rapidly, radiating a blinding aura of raw Golden Core authority that swept through all twenty-three clones. SYSTEM ASCENSION COMPLETE: TIER 3 REACHED. NEW UNLOCKED FUNCTIONS: DAILY CLONE CAPACITY: INCREASED TO 4 CLONES/DAY. SYSTEM TELEPORTATION: HOST CAN INSTANTLY SWAP POSITIONS WITH ANY ACTIVE CLONE ACROSS REALM BOUNDARIES. DOMAIN EXPANSION: NETWORK SENSORY RADIUS EXPANDED TO 500 MILES PER REALM OUTPOST. SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: DAILY REFRESH COMPLETE. HOST ENERGY RESTORED: 5,000 / 5,000. AVAILABLE CLONES: 4/4. Lylin stood up from his obsidian throne. The dark-gold aura around his body burned with cold, unstoppable power. "CREATE CLONES." Four hundred energy units drained into the system core. Four massive pillars of dark crimson and silver light erupted around the central pool, tearing at the local spatial fabric as four new phantoms condensed from the mist: Clone Twenty-Four: A tall, slender scholar wearing star-patterned robes, holding an iron quadrant—a Planar Anchor / Portal Architect possessing the talent Void Gate (constructs permanent, self-sustaining inter-realm portals without requiring spirit-vein anchors). Clone Twenty-Five: A dark-skinned woman wrapped in chainmail made of liquid mercury, wielding two serrated daggers—a Shadow Executioner / Realm Hunter possessing the talent Core Severance (deals double damage against Golden Core and higher realm cultivators). Clone Twenty-Six: A stoic man carrying a heavy iron chest filled with runic stamps—a Realm Administrator / Auditor possessing the talent Tax Anchor (automatically siphons 10% of all spiritual trade energy within controlled territories). Clone Twenty-Seven: A hooded figure whose face was a swirling void of gray smoke—a Mind Weaver / Memory Eraser possessing the talent Oblivion Touch (rewrites or erases memories of captured enemies, turning them into silent sleeper agents). SYSTEM NOTICE: CLONES 24, 25, 26, AND 27 GENERATED. TOTAL ACTIVE CLONE NETWORK: 27 NODES. Lylin looked upon his twenty-seven extensions—a complete, multi-world shadow hierarchy capable of managing empires, executing gods, and reshaping reality from the dark. He turned his gaze toward Clone Twenty-Four (Portal Architect) and Clone Twenty-One (Star Seer). "Star Seer, align your astrolabe," Lylin ordered, his voice echoing across both realms. "Portal Architect, prepare the Void Gate. We have bled the Azure Cloud Domain and secured the Shadow-Veil Realm." The Star Seer raised his silver instrument, aligning its needles with a distant, crimson constellation flickering on the boundary of the upper cosmos. "Vector locked, Host," the Star Seer reported calmly. "The Third World—the Blood-Moon Realm—is currently undergoing a planetary war between its native vampire clans and spirit-sect alliance. Spatial barriers are fractured and vulnerable." Lylin’s golden eyes narrowed into lethal, cold slits. "Construct the Void Gate," Lylin commanded. "It is time to feed on a war."

The Sovereign’s Tax