Chapter 31

The first beast to enter my domain was a male Soul Binder Gryphon. He came strutting in as if he owned the place, his regal posture and piercing golden eyes exuding authority. The sheer presence of him sent a hush over the gathered crowd. With a sudden movement, he spread his massive wings and let out a powerful screech that echoed across the courtyard, sending a shiver down my spine.

I arched an eyebrow and looked at him, unimpressed. He, in turn, ignored me completely. It was as if I was nothing more than an insignificant speck beneath his notice. When he realized I wasn’t reacting or turning to look behind me, he shook his head in what I could only describe as exasperation.

Then, to my surprise, he lowered his head, grasped the edge of my tunic gently with his beak, and turned me to face the crowd.

The moment my eyes landed on them, I froze.

Every single person present—leaders, soldiers, citizens—had fallen to their knees, their foreheads pressed to the ground in complete and utter submission.

My mouth fell open in disbelief. “What the—?”

I turned back to the gryphon, searching for an explanation, only to find him watching me with what I could swear was smug amusement. If a bird could smirk, he absolutely was.

Then, suddenly, a loud, hearty laugh broke through the stunned silence.

Confused, I glanced around just as a small figure hopped down from the gryphon’s back.

Hopperius.

The rabbit-like creature was clutching his sides, shaking with laughter as he pointed at the gryphon.

“I told you, Zaphryon! But you didn’t believe me!” he managed between laughs.

Zaphryon—the gryphon—actually chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent another wave of energy rippling through the air.

And then, something happened that I could have never prepared for.

The ground beneath me trembled.

I barely had time to react before a strange sensation shot through my legs. I looked down in horror as my feet began to harden, the texture shifting—turning to stone. My body stiffened as the transformation crawled up my calves, locking me in place.

The earth beneath me rumbled and rose, lifting me higher and higher until I was at eye level with Zaphryon. He tilted his head slightly before letting out another deafening shriek right above me.

I winced, clamping my hands over my ears, but the sheer force of his voice rattled through my very bones.

When the screeching finally ceased, he leaned forward, lowering his head until our eyes met.

I swallowed hard.

His gaze was piercing—no, more than that. It was as if he was looking straight into my soul, peeling apart every layer, searching for something buried deep within me.

I tried to avert my eyes, but I couldn’t. It was like I was frozen, ensnared in his silent judgment.

Seconds stretched into eternity as the silent test continued.

Then, finally, he nodded.

Without a word, he leaned forward and gently tapped his beak against the spot where my heart was.

Agony.

A searing, indescribable pain exploded in my chest, white-hot and all-consuming. It was as if something deep inside me was being rewritten, reshaped. My vision blurred, my breath caught in my throat, and the world tilted around me.

And then—darkness.

I collapsed.

When I woke up, my head was spinning, a dull throbbing settling behind my eyes. I groaned softly, pressing my fingers against my temples as I tried to steady myself. My body felt ... different, like something had shifted inside me. But before I could dwell on the strange sensation, I took in my surroundings.

This wasn’t my room.

The walls were plain, the space barely furnished aside from a single wooden table and a modest bed. The only decoration was my crest, mounted above the solitary door, its presence both reassuring and unsettling.

Slowly, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood, stretching out the stiffness in my muscles. My limbs felt oddly light, almost energized. A faint scent of herbs and spices filled the air, drawing my gaze to a small table nearby where a steaming jar of tea sat, as if waiting for me.

I picked up the jar, poured myself a glass, and drank deeply. A pleasant warmth spread through my chest, rippling outward like a gentle wave, reinvigorating me.

Satisfied, I set the glass down and made my way to the door.

Stepping outside, I found myself in a circular chamber lined with multiple doors. The architecture was unfamiliar, but the atmosphere was warm, filled with the hum of quiet conversation and the scent of more tea. In the center of the room, a large table was surrounded by familiar faces—Cassie, Valefang, Darius, Valtorian, Xian, and Hopperius. They sat chatting, sipping their drinks, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement.

I stretched once more before making my way toward them, pulling out a chair and settling into the seat with a sigh.

“Alright,” I said, rubbing my temples. “What the hell just happened?”

“You should already know the answer to that,” Hopperius said, his tone laced with amusement. “After bonding with Zaphryon, you fainted. Then, while unconscious, you somehow shifted the Runewillow tree to the right, revived it, and in its place ... well, you sprouted this semi-sentient tree.”

I blinked at him, dumbfounded. “I did what now?”

Hopperius shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “This tree isn’t allowing anyone inside except the six of us. It communicates using color-coded flashes—green for yes or acceptance, red for no or rejection, and orange when it requires more information.”

Still struggling to process what he had just told me, I glanced around the chamber, taking in the odd, almost surreal environment. “You’re telling me this entire structure is alive?”

“More or less,” Hopperius continued. “The door you came through is currently the only one that can be opened. Except for Cassie, no one else can enter that particular room. Your names are etched into the door, signifying that it belongs to you both.

“From our experimentation, we’ve figured out a few things. This place is a non-magic zone, meaning you can’t just give someone permission to transfer room ownership. You have to personally designate each room’s occupant. Only once you assign a room to someone can they enter the tree and access the space with their name on it.”

I let out a slow breath, running a hand through my hair. “This is a seriously messed-up situation.” I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. “Fine. We’ll figure out what this means later. For now, let’s assign the rooms.

“Valefang, you’ll take the room on the right. Next to you will be Darius. On the left will be Aldric, and beside him, Xian. If any of you want to bring your families, you’re free to do so. Hopperius, if you need a room, just let me know.”

As soon as I finished speaking, a green flash illuminated the chamber. When I turned toward the doorways, I was stunned to see the names I had just mentioned now etched into the respective doors.

“Nope,” Hopperius replied with a chuckle. “I don’t need a room for myself. Besides, the rooms will expand on their own to accommodate their inhabitants’ needs. From the outside, the tree still looks like an ordinary Runewillow, aside from this entrance and three unusual metal branches.”

I frowned. “Metal branches? What do you mean?”

Hopperius tilted his head. “After some investigation, we discovered that whenever someone soul-binds with you, they receive their own branch to reside in.”

I stared at him before looking up toward the ceiling. This place was getting stranger by the second.

“Alright,” I said loudly. “Anyone living here is allowed to enter my room, as well as Hopperius.”

That statement snapped everyone out of their musings. One by one, the four who had just received their rooms rushed off excitedly to inspect their new living quarters. Hopperius hopped onto my shoulder, his tiny form light as a feather. Cassie and I exchanged glances before we both turned toward the exit, ready to leave.

Just as I was about to step out, a sudden thought crossed my mind. I hesitated, then spoke again. “If there are more floors in this place, let me know.”

An orange flash pulsed in response—it needed more clarification.

I rubbed my chin. “Alright, can we add additional floors?”

This time, a green flash lit up the chamber. A moment later, the very ground trembled beneath us. The central table shifted, the room expanded, and then, to my astonishment, a grand staircase erupted from the floor, spiraling upward until it touched the ceiling.

I let out a low whistle. “Alright, the second floor will be designated for my royal officials and Lord Commanders. The common area should remain accessible to anyone.”

Another green flash.

Then, as if responding to my command, the ceiling above us opened, allowing the staircase to continue its ascent.

I merely shrugged. At this point, I wasn’t even going to question it anymore. There was too much to do. With that, I turned and walked out, my mind already shifting to the next task ahead.

As soon as I stepped outside, I was stunned to my core. The entire area was a beehive of activity. People were moving with purpose, coordinating with one another, and assisting the new arrivals. I turned to Cassie, my brows furrowed in confusion.

“Did we have this many people before I collapsed?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the sudden influx of individuals.

Before Cassie could respond, my answer came in the form of glowing portals appearing all around us. One after another, the shimmering gates burst open, and figures emerged—Lord Commanders, each followed by more of their kind. The air buzzed with energy as these warriors stepped through, their presence commanding respect.

The moment they arrived, others rushed forward, offering assistance and guiding them to their designated places. Then, as if rehearsed, the Lord Commanders turned toward me, pressing their fists to their hearts and bowing their heads in unison.

“Asher, we have completed your request,” they declared in one voice. “Each of us now commands at least ten companies, ten commanders, and one Lord Commander.”

One of them stepped forward, a formidable figure—Ravrik. He bowed deeply before speaking. “The healthy will begin training tomorrow, as commanded, while the sick will take seven days to recover.”