Rebirth: Necromancer's Ascenscion-Chapter 142: Phase I

Velrosa stood like a dagger unsheathed—leaned over the vast oaken desk in the study, the firelight painting her face in deep lines of gold and shadow.

Around her, the form of loyalty took shape: Eli stood with arms crossed like a statue of war, Elise with her cold, calculating gaze sharpened into steel, Black Rat lounging against the bookcase with his usual rogueish grin, and Ian...Ian who leaned in silence by the fireplace, arms folded, eyes like smoldering coal fixed on her with neither doubt nor devotion.

Only focus.

Outside, the wind howled through the high towers of House Elarin, as if the city itself braced for something terrible to begin.

"I have become a threat," Velrosa said softly, but her voice carried like a bell tolling across a battlefield. "To the Council. To the old blood. To the order that grips Esgard with a dying hand. And I would be a fool to think they will allow me to continue breathing."

She looked at each of them—truly looked.

Measured.

"If you are in this room, you are one of the few I trust completely. That number, as you all well know, is not large. Our enemies multiply with each passing hour. Our allies..."

She paused.

"Are already in this room."

The weight of that truth settled into the silence like dust on a tomb.

"That’s why I say this now, without hesitation or veil: tonight begins conquest. Tonight, we choose the path of war—not of swords and armies, not yet—but of cunning, of poison, of fire beneath the floorboards. Tonight, we begin our rise to dominion. Over this city, this empire... or at the very least, what’s left of it when the ashes settle."

She leaned back from the desk, letting that silence hang.

"Any questions?"

Ian raised a hand lazily, not quite bothering to uncross his arms.

"So...is there a plan? Or do we just punch our way to the top?"

Eli gave a subtle smirk and a nod of approval, as if he’d been about to ask the same.

Velrosa didn’t smile.

"Although the brute-force approach has a certain... brutal elegance, I’m afraid that would only end with all of us dead. You may both be terrifying weapons—but the Empire has greater weapons still. Ones forged in deeper hells than we’ve yet walked—if those weapons are sent before we are ready, we all die."

"Right," Black Rat said, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. "So. Plan, then?"

"Yes," Velrosa said, stepping back and unfolding a map of Esgard.

The city glowed in flickering candlelight, a maze of stone veins and beating hearts. She pointed to the massive black circle at its center—the arena.

"Phase One," she said. "Arena Ascendancy. We conquer the city’s heart."

She stabbed a dagger into the arena on the map.

1. Build Ian’s Mythos

"The arena is not just bloodsport—it is belief. The people of Esgard worship the victors more than they do their gods. They chant their names in the streets. They write songs about them. Whoever rules the sand rules the city’s soul."

She turned to Ian. "That is where you come in."

Ian raised an eyebrow.

"You will not just win. You will terrify. You, along with Caelen and Lyra, will become more myth than you already are. Every battle must be a performance, a promise of something greater. The demonblade. The Reaper. The Prophet of Death. Use your powers—let them see things they cannot explain, cannot name. Let their fear become fascination. Let them hunger for your next kill."

Ian gave a half-smile.

"So we’re building a religion now?"

"Exactly," Velrosa said. "One that worships you."

She turned the dagger on the map, sliding it toward the southern districts.

2. Manipulate the Betting Underground

"With Blackrat’s contacts and spies, we will infiltrate and control the betting empire that feeds the arena economy. We rig the odds. Control the payouts. Bankrupt rival houses when they wager against you, and fund our resurgence from their ruins."

"Money to buy advantage," Elise murmured.

"Money to buy everything," Velrosa said. "We’ll bribe minor nobles. Fund mercenaries. Hire informants. And when the houses realize they’ve been bleeding coin, they won’t know where to strike."

"Or who to trust," Black Rat added, grin widening.

Velrosa nodded. "Exactly."

She circled three names on the map—Volmir, Vallis, Kaelthorn.

3. Form the Arena Coalition

"There are others—other champions, other houses—who have been disgraced or sidelined. Men and women who dream of revenge or power or simply survival. We find them. We offer them purpose. A place in the new order."

"A promise of land and titles in a regime that doesn’t exist yet," Elise said.

"It will exist," Velrosa answered.

Eli scoffed. "You’re betting on ghosts and broken swords."

"I’m betting on people with nothing to lose. They are the most dangerous kind."

Ian looked down at the map. "And the Council?"

Velrosa’s hand hovered over the northern edge, the sigil of House Kaelthorn etched in the margins.

4. Win the League of Champions

"The Council has sponsored an undefeated champion—Durnhal or Kaelthorn most likely. An enforcer meant to remind the people who rules. When Ian defeats him—when, not if—it sends a message that even the Council’s hounds can bleed."

"And it gives us legal footing," Elise said, eyes sharp.

Velrosa nodded. "A clause, buried in the arena laws. Champion’s Right. If a house’s champion wins the League, they may issue a direct petition to the Council—force a hearing, even a vote. A right unused in generations because no one’s been bold—or mad—enough to invoke it."

"And we are?" Eli asked.

Velrosa’s eyes were embers. "We are."

The room fell into silence again.

Not the silence of fear.

The silence before a war drum.

Ian finally moved from the fireplace, stepping closer to the map.

"And if I lose?"

Velrosa looked at him. "You won’t."

He tilted his head. "Confidence."

"Faith," she replied.

"Cute," Fang’s voice whispered from the shadows behind Ian’s shoulder. "She’s already writing your victory in the stars."

Ian didn’t look back. "I don’t expect much competition, but i hear there are new stronger faces in the arena."

Eli nodded. "Don’t worry, you can take the brutish bastards."

Black Rat nooded. "Simple strategy. Effective."

Velrosa closed the map and faced them all. "Make no mistake—this is a game of blades and words, poison and performance. If we win the arena, the city’s heart will beat for us. And if we hold its heart...the rest will follow."