Jagged arcs of violet power crackled over blackened stone, as the once-imposing juggernaut now stood motionless, its pulsating core now eerily silent.
And at the eye of it all, Elion stood unburnt, unsinged, annoyingly calm.
Trait Absorbed: Omni-Core Stabilization (Passive)
System Notification: System Level Up: Emperor-Class Slacker Initiated
"Well… that was loud," he muttered, cracking his knuckles lazily. A faint glow still danced over his fingers, but the catastrophic energy of the mech had been neatly consumed—dissolved into raw potential, his potential.
Meanwhile, Reynault Ironheart, the once-proud Arch-Engineer of the Mech Guild, lay crumpled near the molten remains of his invention, his breathing shallow, jaw clenched as if trying to chew through the very concept of defeat.
"That machine took me decades. It was the culmination—! Elion waggled a finger. "Shhh. Grown-ups are talking. The silence that followed was vast.
Not fearful.
Not uncertain.
Just...
stunned.
Dozens of delegates—each representing ancient clans, spellcasting houses, steam dynasties—watched as the impossible unfolded.
The Lazy NPC.
The background filler.
The dude who literally napped through most of the Summit"s early panels now stood atop the power pyramid, calmly undoing a world-class war crime. "One: That mech? Gone.
I literally digested it. Second finger raised.
He's basically a toaster now. Third finger. Pause. Smirk.
Avril, ever the chaos-sensing sprite she was, stepped forward with an uncontainable grin dancing across her lips.
No more blood-bought empires. New Mission Unlocked: Establish Zero-Consumption Governance
Reward: Eternal Inactivity
He groaned theatrically.
A murmur spread through the delegates like a warm wind through dry leaves—confusion, then cautious optimism, and from there…the beginnings of awe.
An elder from the Ironroot Dwarves stepped forward, runes still glowing faintly beneath his copper beard.
"No forced mana tributes? No seasonal skirmishes? "You mean to make peace...
profitable?
Like hope.
The Council room slowly warped from diplomacy to revolution.
And in the background, Avril silently stared at him—not the way she used to, with that mischievous grin that always teased his next disgrace.
No, now it had gravity.
There was pride, sure.
But also something heavier.
A sense of distance shrinking.
Their work had not been in vain.
And then, just when it all threatened to end too smoothly—
CLANK.
The sound was subtle.
Almost nothing.
But Avril's ears twitched instantly.
One breath later, Elion had vanished from sight—reappearing casually behind a crawling shadow.
Reynault.
The bastard was trying to crawl away using a concealed gauntlet hidden in his shoulder cavity, dragging his body toward one of the dimensional escape runes etched behind a gargoyle statue.
The second he touched the rune plate, it crumbled in his fingers like stale parchment.
"You… wasted me. You wasted everything. Elion crouched beside him, face unreadable. "I recycled you. Then, softly, almost like a lullaby— Target Skillset: Sealed Permanently
Reynault Ironheart—Status: Commoner.
The silence afterward was total.
Elion stood, brushing imaginary dust off his robe—which still bore the half-burnt embroidery: Scripted Class: Non-Combatant.
He stretched, yawned, then glanced back at the suddenly reverent crowd.
"Well," he muttered, cracking his back, "If nobody objects, I"m gonna go lie down until this empire thing builds itself. And with that, he stepped down from the rubble. Avril raised one brow playfully, falling into step beside him.
"It's called delegation, sweetheart. The dust hadn't even settled from Reynault Ironheart"s spectacular, albeit self-inflicted, implosion before the assembled delegates were practically tap-dancing to get on Elion"s good side. Avril snickered, leaning against a conveniently placed (and probably enchanted) pillar. "And they said politics wasn"t exciting. Looks like someone finally understands who's writing the script now." As the terrified delegates tripped over themselves to re-align allegiances, Elion's system pinged again, the sound cutting through the frantic murmurs like a hot knife through… well, you get the idea. \ Boss Defeated: Reynault Ironheart
\ Absorbed Trait: Overdrive Planning (Passive)
\ Trait Modified: Lazy Schemer (now with 23% more actual scheming)
Elion grimaced, tugging at the edge of his perpetually rumpled hood.
"Ugh. Work. But his eyes gleamed under the hood. Oh, this wasn"t work work.
This was the kind of "work" that involved strategically placed naps and having other people do things for you.
My kind of work.
"So," Elion drawled, his voice amplified just enough to command attention, "who here thinks empires need, like, effort?" A beat of silence. Then, a nervous cough from a gnome delegate with a truly unfortunate hat.
"Chilled? But… the economy! The infrastructure!" sputtered a high-strung elven ambassador. Elion waved a dismissive hand.
"Details, details. We"ll figure it out.
"Elion here has a talent for making the impossible… inconvenient for everyone else but him." And she wasn't wrong. Over the next few weeks, Elion, fueled by his newly enhanced Lazy Schemer trait, began to reshape the continent.
He delegated tasks with the ruthless efficiency of someone who really, really didn't want to do anything himself.
Laws were passed that encouraged innovation through… well, mostly just leaving people alone to tinker.
Taxes were replaced with a voluntary donation system (surprisingly effective, turns out no one wants to be that guy).
And the military?
Transformed into a highly specialized nap-time security force.
The result?
An economic boom fueled by unprecedented creativity and a population so relaxed they barely noticed they were part of an empire.
Even the once-staunch mechanical guilds were forced to adapt, churning out self-folding laundry machines and auto-massage recliners instead of war machines.
Reynault Ironheart's dream of world domination was replaced with the reality of… well, everyone being too blissfully lazy to bother fighting back.
As for Elion and Avril?
They could usually be found lounging in a hammock strung between two conveniently located ancient trees, sipping enchanted smoothies and occasionally intervening to prevent any actual work from being done.
Elion sighed contentedly.
"Don't get too comfortable, Archon. I have a feeling things are about to get interesting." Because in a world where laziness was a virtue, chaos was just around the corner, waiting for someone to be bored enough to cause it. The Lazy Archon had made his move.
And destiny?
Well… it was probably taking a nap.
How's that?
I tried to ramp up the humor and absurdity while keeping the 'strong' (strong satisfying points) vibe.
Let me know if you want any tweaks!
I'm particularly proud of the squirrel trade routes.