Chapter 212
The following year, the eldest son of Saxon and the eldest daughter of Lancaster announced their engagement. Shortly after, the Saxon duchy was abuzz with preparations for a grand celebration, not only for Dale’s seventeenth birthday but also for the upcoming wedding.
Yet, Dale’s heart was a tangled mess of emotions. Charlotte, no doubt, felt the same.
In the stillness of the early morning, unable to sleep, Dale stood by the window, lost in thought.
His mother, Elena, was overjoyed at the prospect of Dale marrying Charlotte, who had been adopted into the Lancaster family. To her, it was a simple joy to see her son united with the girl who had been his companion since childhood.
Just then, a knock interrupted his thoughts.
“Who is it?” Dale asked, swallowing hard.
“It’s me, Dale.”
It was Charlotte Lancaster. She entered, not in her usual armor of the Night Raven, but in a black silk nightgown, hesitating slightly as she stepped into his room.
Silence fell between them, and Charlotte offered a complicated smile.
“I was so happy when you accepted Lancaster’s proposal.”
”…”
“Even if it was a decision made for political reasons,” she murmured bitterly, and Dale remained silent.
“I’m glad you need me,” she added, though he couldn’t find the words to respond.
A sword doesn’t think, but the one who wields it must.
Without a word, Dale wrapped his arms around Charlotte’s shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. She caught her breath for a moment, but the surprise quickly faded.
The night sky was dark and endless.
The next morning, at dawn.
“Rize.”
“Brother!”
In the courtyard of the Saxon estate, his younger sister Rize and her mentor, Sephia, were practicing magic.
“I heard Charlotte is going to be my new sister-in-law!”
“Yes, so you should work hard on your magic, so you won’t be embarrassed.”
Dale smiled silently at Rize’s innocent grin.
“Yes! I’m already a first-circle mage!”
At eight years old, Rize had reached the same milestone Dale had at her age. Though it wasn’t fair to compare them directly, her rapid progress was undeniable.
Mana circled through Rize’s heart, and a pale, white frost scattered around her like jewels.
It was beautiful.
“Very pretty,” Dale remarked, glancing at Sephia, the silent elf mentor.
“Rize, I need to speak with Sephia for a moment. Could you give us some privacy?”
“Okay, brother!”
Rize nodded without question and moved away. Once she was out of earshot, Dale spoke.
“Sephia.”
“Is there something you wish to say?”
Sephia’s smile was as gentle as ever, the kind smile of an elf mage.
“I…”
Dale hesitated, trying to find the right words.
“You don’t need to worry about me,” Sephia said softly, her voice carrying an unplaceable distance.
“But I do worry,” Dale replied, unwilling to back down.
“What about Charlotte’s feelings for you?” Sephia asked.
”…”
“I don’t want to see her hurt,” she continued.
“I have lived through ages you cannot imagine. But human lives are not like that. They are short, fleeting, and often swayed by the most ephemeral emotions, leading to countless foolish decisions.”
“Then why do you stay with the Saxon duchy?”
“To teach Rize,” Sephia answered coolly.
“I only wish for you and Charlotte to find happiness.”
”…”
“Don’t forget the preciousness of each moment as a human.”
For the first time, Dale sensed a faint sincerity in her voice.
“Is that truly your wish, Sephia?”
”…”
Sephia didn’t answer, only nodded silently. Dale didn’t press further.
The conversation ended there.
The Saxon duchy announced the union of Dale, the eldest son of Saxon, and Charlotte, the eldest daughter of Lancaster.
The gathering of two of the empire’s three great ducal families naturally drew the attention of the entire empire.
Behind the scenes, however, lay a web of intricate complexities.
Charlotte Orhart, daughter of the legendary swordmaster Sir Vardel, had been granted the Lancaster name after her mother, Vanessa, remarried the Duke of Lancaster. Raised under the protection of the Saxon duchy, Charlotte had grown into a formidable swordswoman, one of the continent’s Seven Swords, known as the Celestial Sword.
Now, this young woman, bearing the Lancaster name, was to be wed to Saxon’s “Black Prince.”
Though Lancaster’s influence had waned, it remained one of the empire’s three great ducal houses. The alliance between Lancaster and Saxon carried significant weight.
As the wedding day approached, nobles from across the empire flocked to offer their congratulations.
Even the imperial family was not absent.
The first prince, Lancelot, and the siblings at the pinnacle of the Red Tower, Marquis Eurys the Crimson and “Lady Scarlet,” attended, along with Eurys’s son, Ray Eurys, heir to the Red Tower.
Countless powerful figures from across the empire gathered, each with their own agendas, seeking to understand the new balance of power that would emerge from this union.
A turning point in fate was approaching.
Meanwhile, in the shadows of the Saxon duchy, the secretive Grey Court and Dale’s intelligence network, the Grave Walkers, were at work.
Dale’s swords were there, save for the loyal sword of the Saxon Duke, Sir Helmut Blackbear.
Lady Shadow, Aurelia of the Shadows and Truth, who protected Dale from the darkness.
The master of the deadly sword, Baro, and the wandering sword.
And finally, the newly crowned Celestial Sword, the knight and Dale’s future bride, Charlotte Lancaster.
Among the shadowy blades and the continent’s Seven Swords, three swords stood.
“Congratulations, Lady of the Black Knight,” the Shadow Saintess spoke beside Master Baro, her eyes covered with black bandages, yet smiling as if she could see beyond them.
“But our Shadow Lord, you must be cautious.”
“I am always cautious,” Dale replied, but the Shadow Saintess shook her head.
“I know you are, my lord. But with each step, the threats against you grow ever larger.”
“What should I be cautious of?”
“The balance of power between gold and shadow will change irreversibly here.”
The Shadow Saintess warned.
“At the ceremony for Charlotte and me?”
“That is merely a pretext. You have already established an indelible influence on this continent, and the golden ones are not blind to it.”
“The Saxon duchy is my father’s domain. No matter who they are, they won’t act recklessly.”
“Perhaps. But remember, it is also ‘Saxon’s domain.’”
”…!”
The Shadow Saintess’s words made Dale catch his breath.
“Are you referring to the Eldritch beyond the Demon King’s realm?”
The ancient lords of Saxon, who had faked their deaths and fled to the northernmost reaches.
“The Immortal Lord sees the same landscape as I do. And I can see what he sees.”
“What do you see?”
“The ancient lords of Saxon are gathering at the Shadow Tower.”
“Are they targeting the Saxon duchy?”
“That, I cannot say.”
The Shadow Saintess replied, and Dale frowned.
“The imperial family, the Red Tower master, and the empire’s strongest are gathering for Charlotte and my ceremony.”
After a moment of thought, Dale spoke, calmly assessing the situation.
“If the Eldritch of the Shadow Tower move, now might be the best time to face them.”
“Do you intend to fight the ancient shadow kin as the herald of gold?”
The Shadow Saintess asked, and Dale sharply retorted.
“Are you fighting for those ancient Saxon lords?”
Master Baro’s expression hardened. In the tense atmosphere, the Shadow Saintess continued.
“Don’t worry, Baro.”
“Lady Maria, no… Saintess.”
The true name of the Shadow Saintess, Maria, softened her knight, Master Baro.
“I am loyal only to the Shadow Lord. The Immortal Lord Frederick and the ancient shadow kin have lost that right.”
“I hope your loyalty remains with me,” the Shadow Lord replied coolly.
A carriage departed from the imperial capital, heading north to the frozen lands of Saxon.
The Marquis of Blood, Eurys, sat sipping wine, accompanied by Lady Scarlet and his son, Ray Eurys. They were not mere rulers of the empire, but members of the bloodthirsty Blood Elf clan.
“My dear sister, your belly has grown quite round,” he remarked with a sly smile.
“Indeed, the time is drawing near,” Lady Scarlet replied, her voice calm yet filled with anticipation.
Her belly was swollen, much like a mother on the brink of childbirth. And in a way, that wasn’t far from the truth.
Inside her, the seed of a demon had been successfully implanted through a dark ritual.
“I can feel the child rejoicing,” Lady Scarlet said, taking a sip of her wine.
The wine was as crimson as blood.
Not long after, the empire’s most influential nobles and warriors gathered to witness a new “order of power” that promised to reshape the continent. Unaware of the true intentions behind the event, most of them filled the Saxon duchy.
In the grand hall of the Saxon castle, preparations for an opulent ceremony were underway, surpassing anything seen before. The Saxon family was not the only pillar; the Lancasters, known as the House of the Red and White Rose, also played a central role.
Finally, the ceremony began.
The Black Prince of Saxon raised his head in the center of the hall, where the Night Raven and the Red and White Rose intertwined.
Charlotte Lancaster stood before him, not in her usual armor, but in a radiant dress, like a princess dreaming of a rosy future.
His mother, Elena, watched with tears of joy, while his sister, Lise, beamed with pure happiness. Yet, their Elven mentor, Sepia, remained absent until the end.
Applause erupted.
The Marquis of Blood, Eurys, clapped loudly, as if bestowing his blessing upon the couple, his smile ominous and foreboding.