The baptism ritual passed smoothly.
It barely took half an hour, and through it, Frey came to know most of the leaders of the werewolf race.
One by one, he brought them under his command, skillfully securing their loyalty while leaving the Seal of Life and Death upon each of them.
Spreading the "gift," as they called it, became Maskith’s responsibility afterward.
The old man took on the burden of marking thousands of chosen werewolves himself.
Finishing his work usually required several days, and because of that, Frey spent some time on the planet Sylvanor.
He was still seated upon his chair, with only his most important followers and allies remaining inside the majestic hall built for him.
After Maskith left and the baptism ended, two members of the Shadow Sect stepped forward and stood before him.
The first was a mighty warrior with an overwhelming body and skin of steel.
The other was a giant who walked on all fours, wearing black armor decorated with gold.
Alexander Rybak and Fulghor were the sect’s general leaders, as well as its most prominent war generals.
Their positions gave them full knowledge of every military movement made by the sect, and of the many wars it had recently entered.
And there had been many.
Far too many.
"With the werewolves joining us, we have now gathered fifteen different races under the Shadow Sect. Our total military force has reached roughly one hundred thousand fighters."
Fulghor spoke in his deep, ancient voice, presenting the approximate numbers after the werewolves’ recruitment.
The third-ranked member of the Shadow Sect fell silent for a moment after that.
He hesitated slightly before mentioning the next figures, but said them anyway.
It was his duty.
"In return, the wars we caused have ended more than twenty civilizations. The most recent was the one that had oppressed the werewolves until not long ago."
Frey nodded upon hearing that.
The werewolf race had been living in a constant state of war against another race that shared the same planet with them.
Beasts similar to them in nature, yet far more intelligent.
The werewolves were strong, but far too primitive compared to their more advanced enemies.
They were crushed in battle and reduced to slaves.
Their population had even been severely reduced, with countless among them slaughtered.
That situation continued for years—
until the Shadow Sect arrived.
In less than a month, they overturned the entire war with terrifying speed.
"Make sure they’re exterminated completely. Do not leave a single one alive."
"Ah, and it would be preferable if you used the new werewolf soldiers. They carry deep hatred toward them."
Frey said with his eyes closed, a gentle smile resting on his face.
"As you wish."
Fulghor answered respectfully.
He nearly honored Frey with a formal title, but stopped himself at the last moment.
He remembered Frey forbidding them from calling him Lord or King when speaking to him directly.
The giant war general still did not seem used to addressing his master so directly, despite six full months already passing since they rebuilt Nameless’ old sect under its current name—
the Shadow Sect.
The sect was no longer what it had been in the past.
Since their return, they had started dozens of wars and moved with extraordinary activity.
So much so that their movements sometimes overshadowed even news of the mysterious continent that had trapped most of their world’s titans within it.
Most of the strongest beings had disappeared inside that continent, and all information from within had been cut off.
What had once been known as the Land of Opportunities had now become something closer to a graveyard that devoured everyone who entered it.
Because of that, everyone began avoiding it.
And once news from the continent disappeared completely, since no one inside could transmit information to the outside world—
the Shadow Sect became the subject on everyone’s lips.
Their movements shook the entire world.
They targeted races seemingly at random, appearing overnight to unleash one-sided massacres and ruthless wars.
Their leader, Nameless, became known for targeting planets caught in conflicts similar to the one that had consumed the werewolves.
He would wipe out one side completely, erasing them from existence, then save the other side and turn them into followers of the Shadow Sect.
The criteria behind his choices were utterly unclear.
At times, they even seemed completely random.
All of it was based entirely on the preferences of the Nameless King.
To some, it appeared unjust.
To others, infuriating.
How could one man decide the fate of entire races?
Saving whomever he wished.
Exterminating whomever he chose.
Yet strangely enough, none of his followers thought that way.
At least, none of the strong among them did.
They held blind faith in him, attacking wherever his black sword pointed and saving whoever he chose without asking questions or voicing objections.
Their faith in him had reached a dangerous stage.
So dangerous that many compared them to fanatical religious cults.
No...
perhaps they had already gone far beyond that.
Within six months, the Shadow Sect had saved the lives of millions.
And in that same period—
several times that number had died because of them.
With most of the Seven Great Powers and those close to their level trapped inside the mysterious continent, there was almost no one left capable of opposing such an organization.
"If any of you have something to say, this is your chance."
Frey gave them permission, signaling for every leader of the sect to step forward and speak their mind.
Many old faces were present.
The Great One of Earth was there.
Ghost had come as well, accompanied by Adir, who ranked fourth within the sect.
At the same time, several new and unfamiliar faces had arrived.
Individuals who had not participated in the war on Earth.
They rarely gathered like this under one roof, and the werewolf baptism was one of the few occasions where such a meeting became possible.
Because time was limited, Frey usually sent only one or two of them separately to lead the wars waged by the sect.