That not so important character turned out to be important

Baron Eldric moved down the dimly lit, crumbling hallway of Shaun's mansion, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. The physical wounds were gone, healed by Shaun's unimaginable power. But the deeper scars—the ones on his pride and ego—remained. The weight of the day's events still pressed heavily on his mind, a mixture of shock, humiliation, and awe.

The events replayed in his mind with vivid clarity: the torment, the magic binding him like a marionette, the sheer helplessness he'd felt under the control of a mere boy. His stomach twisted at the thought of how easily Shaun had bent him to his will. A child had reduced him to nothing but a tool for his amusement, and Eldric had no choice but to obey, to endure.

Yet, as much as it disgusted him to admit it, there was something intoxicating about the power Shaun had given him in return. A strange, new power—something he couldn't yet fully comprehend, but it made him feel invincible. For the first time in years, he felt... whole.

"I can finally stand up for myself. I won't let myself down—especially now that I've surrendered my soul and free will."

His heart pounded as he walked toward the exit. This was no longer just a visit to some strange mansion. This was the beginning of something else. Something powerful. And terrifying.

As Eldric reached the mansion's entrance, his gaze lingered on the victims who had sought refuge inside, sheltering in the space. They were gathered in small, quiet groups, whispering to one another, their voices low . Eldric knew they didn't understand what had happened in the mansion—how he had been broken and remade by Shaun's power. To them, he was just the Baron, a man who was still on his way to restoring some semblance of his former position.

He paused before stepping outside, his voice barely above a whisper but cutting through the silence like a knife. "All hail to Lord Shaun. I have realized my mistakes, and I humbly apologize for my disrespectful behavior this morning."

The crowd inside the mansion stirred, their eyes flickering with uncertainty. No one had ever heard the Baron speak like this before. But the change in him was undeniable. He bowed low, a gesture that spoke more of submission than of grace.

The Head Priest, Elijah, and the Town Chief, Gregor, stood waiting for him outside the mansion, their expressions caught between concern and the practiced veneer of politeness. Neither of them had any idea of the horrors he had faced within those walls.

"Baron Eldric," Gregor greeted, his voice laced with warmth, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. "How did the talk go? Everything all right?"

Eldric forced a smile, though it was thin and strained, barely masking the turmoil beneath. "It went... well. Almost too well," he replied, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of something darker, something unsettling. "I've come to realize how poorly I behaved toward Master Shaun, failing to recognize his greatness. My actions were shameful. I owe you both an apology for what you had to witness. I couldn't have been more wrong."

The Priest nodded slowly, his eyes scanning Eldric's face as if searching for sincerity. "It's good to hear you've seen the error of your ways and made amends with Master Shaun," Elijah said, his tone measured but encouraging. "We all make mistakes, Baron, but it's how we choose to move forward that truly matters."

Eldric nodded firmly. "I'll be making more amends now, doing the right thing with sincerity," he said, his tone steady even as his heart raced. What they didn't know was that his version of "moving forward" was far removed from what they imagined. His mind churned with the possibilities Master Shaun had offered—the conditions, the power. He would no longer be the man who had cowered beneath the rule of his family. He would reshape his destiny, no matter the cost.

After a few more polite exchanges, Eldric excused himself and made his way toward the waiting carriage. One of his guards approached, his expression curious yet cautious. "Sir, what happened to the others who came with you? Are they still inside?"

Eldric's lips curled into a thin, almost predatory smile. "You could say they won't be working for me anymore," he replied coldly.

In his mind, however, the truth unfolded differently. They're still inside, trapped with Master Shaun. Though I doubt he'll harm them... too much.

The guard nodded

With a final glance at the mansion, its looming silhouette casting long shadows in the fading light, Eldric stepped into the carriage. The door closed behind him with a resolute slam, sealing him away from prying eyes and unwanted questions.

As the horses stirred and the carriage lurched forward, Eldric leaned back against the cushioned seat, his hands resting on his knees, his fingers twitching with restless energy. His mind buzzed, not with fear or doubt, but with a burgeoning sense of purpose

The road ahead was uncertain, but Eldric knew one thing for sure: The world would soon know the power of Baron Eldric, and nothing—nothing—would ever stand in his way again.

Shaun stood by the window of the crumbling 4th floor, gazing out at the fading evening light. His silhouette was framed by the jagged edges of broken masonry, the dim glow of the setting sun casting long shadows across the room. His expression was unreadable—calm, but with an undercurrent of something far darker.

The events with Eldric replayed in Shaun's mind like a series of vivid scenes—a theater of the Baron's humiliation, his eventual submission, and the moment he grasped the power Shaun had so effortlessly dangled before him.

"It was all too easy," Shaun mused, his voice low and laced with disdain. "My first disposable tool added to my collection, a fool too blinded by his own insecurities to see the strings being pulled." He leaned casually against the cracked wall, the faint echo of his chuckle bouncing in the silence.

"If he'd kept to himself, I wouldn't have bothered," Shaun continued, his tone shifting to irritation. "But no, he just had to flaunt his elitism, masking his own fragility. An insecure attention whore—crippled by social anxiety and desperate to prove something he never could."

He shook his head, a cruel smile forming on his lips. "What a pathetic creature," he muttered, the words dripping with contempt. "So desperate for validation, for strength, that he'd kneel the moment I offered him a taste."

Shaun traced his fingers along the edge of the worn table, feeling the rough grain beneath his touch. His mind buzzed with dark amusement as his thoughts drifted. Power was a curious thing—it revealed the truth of people, stripping away their pretenses and exposing their raw desires. Eldric had been no different. One taste of power, and the Baron had been reduced to a groveling figure, his pride shattered.

But I'm not foolish enough to hand out power without a price. The chip in his temple? It's not just a leash or a failsafe. It's a tool—one that grants me full access to everything he is: his aura, his mana, his life force. I can bend his body, twist his mind, and track his every movement. The moment he steps out of line, I'll know. Every single detail. Every misstep.

The best part? It doesn't just obey. The chip senses any hint of rebellion, any flicker of ill will toward me. I can command him from anywhere—whisper orders in his ear from a thousand miles away—and he will follow. Thanks to Condition Three, he has no choice. He's bound. Completely.

What I gave him? It's a joke. A mere distraction. What I've taken is everything.

Shaun's smirk deepened, eyes empty of any warmth. "He thinks he's free now," he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "How quaint. He's so proud of his little rebellion, yet doesn't even realize how perfectly he will dance on my string."

As Soren slowly regained consciousness, he found himself in an unfamiliar grand hall, surrounded by figures draped in lavish attire. The heavy atmosphere weighed down on him, and the anxious expressions on the faces around him told him everything—he had been summoned against his will.

At the center of the hall stood a crowned man, his gaze calculating yet hesitant. Behind him were courtiers and knights, watching with tension in their eyes. The crowned figure cleared his throat, breaking the oppressive silence.

"Welcome, great hero," the man began, his voice tinged with authority that wavered under the weight of desperation. "I am Darian Ravenshield, king of the Ardin Empire," he announced, as though his title alone should explain everything.

Soren narrowed his eyes, irritation simmering beneath the surface. "And why am I here?"

King Darian shifted, attempting a composed smile. "You have been summoned to our world to save us. A dire threat looms—the Warlord, Eryndor, has united the northern tribes and is marching toward our capital with an army unlike anything we've ever seen. Despite our best efforts, our empire cannot withstand him alone."

Soren's expression remained unreadable as he processed the king's words. A long, heavy silence passed before Soren spoke, his tone icy. "So you summoned me here to do your dirty work."

The king hesitated, but continued, his voice growing more desperate. "Yes, we called for a hero, someone with the power to turn the tide. We thought you might be the one to help us, to save our people from annihilation."

A cold smile spread across Soren's face as he crossed his arms, letting the tension in the room stretch longer. "Right," he said, the disdain in his voice unmistakable. "How generous of you." He allowed a sliver of his aura to leak out, the pressure in the room growing heavier with each passing second.

The king and his advisors shuddered, feeling the invisible weight of Soren's power. Swallowing his pride, Darian bowed deeply. "Please, I beg of you, great hero... help us."

The officials around him, sensing the gravity of the situation, knelt as well, their faces full of anxiety. Soren surveyed the scene, arms still crossed, a faint, almost amused smile playing on his lips.

"Fine," he said with a tone of bored apathy. "I'll consider it. But first, I'll take a look around. And just one more thing—how do I return home?"

The room went deathly silent, a mage stepping forward, trembling. "My lord... I-I'm afraid that once summoned, there is no return. It is beyond our magic to send you back..." 

The king's face dropped with regret as he remained bowed. "I'm sorry, but we have no means to return you. If there were another way... I would tell you."

A low, cold chuckle escaped Soren's lips. "So you summon me here and expect me to just play along?" His eyes flashed with danger. "Don't think I haven't noticed your pathetic attempts to bind me with magic," he said, his voice laced with contempt.

The mages stiffened in horror as Soren's presence flared, a mere thought shattering the remnants of their spell. He crushed the magic like a twig, filling the hall with an oppressive aura. "Don't try that again unless you're willing to lose your lives," he warned, his tone detached, as though he were dismissing an annoyance.

The entire room fell into stunned silence, the mages and guards visibly shaken by the sheer weight of his power. King Darian, realizing the extent of Soren's capabilities and the danger of his manipulation, could only stare in disbelief.

Clearing his throat, the king tried to regain his composure. "Perhaps... it would be wise to have someone accompany you. Someone to guide you around the kingdom, to help you familiarize yourself with the empire..."

Soren raised an eyebrow, cutting him off. "You think I'll just run off?" He scoffed. "I don't need a babysitter. Just point me in the right direction."

Satisfied, Soren gave a small, chilling smile. "Don't worry," he said as he made his way to the door. "I'll find my own way."