Now that Novaria's promotion was complete, Bel could focus on something new stirring within his system, a fresh directive.
[Assign Soldiers to a Demon General?]
He narrowed his eyes.
The system continued to evolve, no longer tracking just his personal growth, but expanding as an extension of his Authority.
It wasn't the same as leveling up or boosting stats. The Authority of Destruction responded to how he wielded power, how he governed it.
This was about his role as a Lord, not a warrior. When his demons grew stronger, when they embodied his concept of ruin, the Authority responded.
He glanced at Novaria, still kneeling.
"Twenty," he said aloud. "You'll take twenty."
Every drake, every wyvern. He kept the four weakest, still uncertain, still too fragile. He didn't say it aloud, but the reason was simple: his soldiers could die, and even though he wanted to believe in Novaria, the only thing he was sure was his own strength.
