Kingdom Building Game: Starting Out With A Million Upgrade Points!-Chapter 96: The Bloodbane Tomb

The sky was a murky gray, heavy with the weight of an impending storm.

Thunder rumbled in the distance as Emperor Arkanos Bloodbane stood before the entrance of the Bloodbane Tomb, in a set of black and white armor, the final resting place of his ancestors.

The massive stone doors loomed before him, engraved with the names of rulers long dead, their legacies carved into history.

Behind him, his knights stood in formation—Seraphine, his steadfast knight captain, along with Garik, Darian, Kael, Esten, and Laris were present as well.

Their armor gleamed under the dim light filtering through the storm clouds. Some held torches, the flames flickering in the cold wind that howled through the desolate mountainside.

The tomb itself was carved into the heart of an obsidian mountain, flanked by two colossal statues of warriors with swords pointed downward, signifying eternal rest.

Arkanos placed a gloved hand against the cold stone. This place held the weight of centuries, the burden of his bloodline.

"How long has it been since an emperor last stepped foot here?" Kael asked, his voice low.

"Not since Emperor Veltharion Bloodbane’s funeral," Darian replied. "Over ten years ago."

A heavy silence followed. No one entered the Bloodbane Tomb unless they had to.

It was sacred ground, meant only for the dead emperors and those who would soon join them.

"Are we truly doing this, Your Majesty?" Seraphine asked, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

"Disturbing the tombs of your ancestors… it feels—"

"Necessary," Arkanos interrupted, his green eyes narrowing.

"This is more than just a graveyard. It’s a vault of secrets, and I intend to claim them."

With a motion of his hand, the knights pushed against the ancient doors. They resisted at first, but with a deep groan, the entrance slowly opened, revealing darkness within. A stale, heavy air rushed out, carrying the scent of old stone and decay.

The knights hesitated. Arkanos stepped forward without fear.

Once they all stepped in the heavy silence of the Bloodbane Tomb seemed to swallow them whole as the stone doors groaned shut behind them, sealing the world outside.

"Well… there goes our exit." Kael said with a touch of unease.

Torchlight illuminated towering walls covered in murals depicting the conquests and tragedies of the Bloodbane emperors—men who had shaped the Bloodbane Empire with steel and blood.

Their victories, their wars, their betrayals—this was a history written in blood.

They descended deeper into the tomb, passing rows of massive Burial Chambers.

Each had the likeness of the emperor within, their names etched in ancient red runes that pulsed faintly with residual magic.

The air was thick with the scent of old stone, dust, and something else—something ancient and waiting.

Arkanos strode forward, his boots echoing against the polished obsidian floor. His knights followed, their hands resting lightly on their weapons, their eyes darting over the chamber.

The corridor stretched forward. The red-glowing runes on the Burial Chambers pulsed gently, and tiny voices could be heard speaking a strange language, as if whispering secrets from the past.

Seraphine walked at Arkanos’s side, torch in one hand, her other hand on the hilt of her sword. "This place is unsettling," she murmured. "I can feel something... watching."

Darian let out a quiet chuckle, rolling his shoulders. "It’s just a tomb, Captain. The dead don’t watch. They rest."

"That’s what worries me," Kael muttered, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword.

Garik, the tallest of the knights, dragged an armoured hand across one of the Burial Chambers, brushing away dust. "Some of these look... fresh."

Esten knelt down, running his fingers over the floor. "Tracks. Old, but not ancient. Something’s moved through here in the last few years. Maybe decades."

Arkanos did not break stride. "Then be ready."

They pressed onward, deeper into the tomb. The corridor gradually widened into a vast chamber where towering pillars lined the sides, their surfaces etched with more runes and battle scenes.

The knights spread out instinctively, forming a loose formation, torches casting wild shadows across the floor.

Then, without warning, the air shifted. A low growl echoed through the chamber.

Esten snapped his gaze toward the darkness beyond the torchlight. "Something’s here."

From the shadows emerged a couple dozen creatures, each the size of a warhorse.

Their bodies were made of obsidian and crimson energy, vaguely canine in shape but with elongated skulls and jagged fangs.

Their eyes glowed with an intense red light, and as they moved, their claws scraped against the stone, leaving deep gouges.

"Tomb Guardians," Seraphine said calmly as she married her eyes, drawing her sword.

The creatures lunged.

Seraphine was the first to move, sidestepping a clawed strike before twisting her blade upward, slicing across the guardian’s throat. The beast recoiled, but its wounds sealed instantly, the red energy knitting it back together.

Garik met another beast head-on, planting his shield against the creature’s maw as it snapped forward. He shoved it back, twisting his great sword in a brutal arc, cleaving through its side. Sparks flew as metal met enchanted stone, but his strike shattered part of its body, sending obsidian shards scattering.

Kael twirled his sword, slicing at the third guardian’s joints, exploiting weak points. Each strike landed with a satisfying crack, forcing the creature to stumble.

Arkanos moved through with a sudden burst of speed. His hold sword flickered in the dim light, every motion was so precise, every strike lethal.

One guardian lunged at him, but he sidestepped effortlessly, bringing his blade down in a single, clean arc. The moment it struck, the beast’s body shattered, its energy dispersing into the air.

The knights paused for a moment, glancing at each other.

Darian let out a short laugh. "That was... easier than I expected."

Esten smirked, kicking aside a pile of shattered obsidian. "Either we’ve gotten stronger, or these things aren’t what they used to be in the legends."

Seraphine wiped her blade clean, exhaling. "We’re not here to admire ourselves. Keep moving."

The tomb grew more labyrinthine as they advanced. Sliding stone doors rumbled open as they approached, revealing chambers filled with the resting places of past emperors.

Some coffins were etched with intricate carvings, others with weapons laid atop their lids. The history of the empire was entombed here, each resting place a story of conquest, betrayal, and glory.

As they stepped into a particularly grand hall, they halted. At its center, embedded in an altar of black stone, was a sword unlike any they had ever seen.

The blade was long and jagged, black as the void itself, with strange symbols etched into its surface. The hilt was wrapped in ancient leather, decayed with time, and the air around it crackled with a strange force as time red lighting particles rippled with force.

Arkanos narrowed his eyes. He could feel a curse radiating from it.

"No one touch it," he said sharply to the knights.

Laris, the most curious among them, took a step closer, peering at the inscriptions. "This... this might be the De’Kaldel Sword."

Darian stiffened. "The cursed blade of the first emperor, Bloodbane himself?"

Seraphine crossed her arms. "I thought it was a myth."

Garik shook his head. "Legends say he forged it with the blood of a thousand warriors, binding his fate—and his descendants—to war."

Esten exhaled slowly. "If that’s true, then it belongs here. Best we leave it."

Arkanos needed no convincing. Whatever power lay within that sword, he had no interest in claiming it. He turned from the altar.

"We move on."

The knights hesitated only a moment longer before following him.

After winding through more passages, they finally arrived at a grand set of stone doors, larger than any before. The runes carved into them pulsed violently, reacting to their presence.

Arkanos knew they had reached the resting place of his father.

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As he stepped forward, a chilling voice echoed through the chamber, deep and commanding.

"Blood... is the key."

The knights instinctively reached for their weapons, but Arkanos raised a hand, silencing them. He stepped closer, placing a hand against the door. The ancient stone was cold beneath his touch.

He knew what it meant.

Slowly, he removed one gauntlet and drew a dagger from his belt. Without hesitation, he pressed the blade to his palm and made a shallow cut. Blood welled up, dark and rich, and he let it drip onto the carved runes.

The moment his blood touched the stone, the doors trembled. The runes flared brightly before dimming, and with a deep, grinding sound, the entrance to his father’s tomb began to open.

Beyond the threshold, darkness loomed.

And something waited.

As the stone doors creaked open, a voice echoed out from the depths beyond, louder this time, intense and cryptic, echoing through the tomb’s ancient walls.

"What seeks the Bloodbane heir, to disturb the resting of his father?"

The voice rang out like a storm, its words heavy.

It was neither a question nor a statement, but a riddle woven in shadows.

Arkanos’ breath caught in his chest for a moment as he stood motionless, his hand still resting on the cold stone.

His knights tensed, instinctively drawing their weapons. Seraphine’s knuckles whitened around her sword’s hilt.

Darian’s eyes darted from side to side, his senses alert.

Kael raised his sword, as though preparing for an assault.

Garik stepped forward slightly, his massive frame casting a shadow. Esten and Laris flanked Arkanos, their gazes fixed on the darkened doorway, eyes scanning every corner for movement.