Chapter 122

Receiving a noble title didn’t automatically guarantee becoming the Grand Duke.

That was exactly what Marquis Langham was aiming for.

This was why the title was a ‘poisoned chalice.’

“Do you understand what this title means?” Langham asked.

“Yes, I do,” Cristiang replied.

“Then do you also know what kind of trial you must face?”

Indeed.

The moment one received the title, the heir had to prove they were truly worthy of becoming the next Lord of the Dark House.

It was a test.

A long-standing, infamous tradition of the Dark House.

“What the Lord of the Dark House needs is the ability to govern both externally and internally. Therefore, the trial is divided into two parts. The first is to raise the prestige of the Dark House by confronting the Union scum.”

Marquis Langham spoke coldly.

“You have three months. Within that time, you must achieve a feat worthy of the next Lord of the Dark House by striking against those detestable Union bastards.”

The assembled Ma’in held their breath.

Only three months.

An absurdly short deadline.

And the conditions were even more impossible.

‘Worthy of the next Lord of the Dark House.’

This wasn’t just about proving oneself as an heir.

It meant accomplishing something truly befitting the head of the family.

“To meet that condition, you’d have to either slay at least a 7-star Union knight or lead a victorious war against the Union.”

An impossible task for Cristiang—or any heir—at this point.

This was why, despite Eshed being considered the next Grand Duke, he had yet to receive the title.

Because of this brutal tradition, previous heirs of the Dark House only received their titles and took the trial after reaching at least 6 stars.

“Marquis,” Nordian frowned, almost reproachfully.

Langham bowed politely.

“Based on the abilities shown so far, I have judged Cristiang to be the one fit to lead the Dark House in the future. If the head of the family disagrees, I will cancel this.”

Nordian had no answer.

Intervening here would violate his principle of not meddling in family affairs.

More importantly, this wasn’t his decision to make.

“…Cristiang, what do you think? Will you accept the trial?”

Everyone in the hall turned to Cristiang.

They all expected him to refuse.

It was simply impossible with his current strength.

But refusing would brand him a coward who fled the succession trial.

A serious stain on his path to becoming Grand Duke.

‘Still, refusing is better.’

‘This is impossible.’

That’s what everyone thought.

Then Cristiang spoke.

“I accept the trial.”

Gasps echoed through the hall.

Even Marquis Langham looked surprised and asked again.

“Did you fully understand what I said?”

“Yes, I did. Within three months, I must achieve a feat worthy of the next head of the family by confronting the Union scum.”

Cristiang’s voice was firm.

“It’s entirely possible.”

Shock rippled through the crowd.

Cristiang even went further.

“I don’t even need three months. I will finish it within one.”

Whispers of disbelief spread.

Everyone looked at Cristiang as if he’d lost his mind.

‘Why would Lord Cristiang say something so reckless?’

Some Ma’in even scoffed, saying he had become arrogant after repeated successes.

“However, I have one request.”

“What is it?”

“During the trial period, if any conflict arises with the Union, I ask that my opinion be given priority.”

Langham narrowed his eyes behind his monocle.

He had no idea what this bold young man was scheming.

But—

‘Considering the incident about to unfold in Gold Cross, it doesn’t matter what he’s planning.’

Langham knew the terrible events happening there.

If Cristiang rushed in without understanding the situation, he’d be swept away and die.

“Very well. I accept your request. We will soon hold a grand banquet to celebrate your title. Consider it settled.”

And so, the trial that turned the Dark House’s succession order upside down came to an end.

Eshed had completely fallen from grace and disappeared into the background, while Cristiang rose as the undisputed center of the succession.

But the competition was far from over.

In fact, in some ways, it was only just beginning.

He hadn’t yet faced his truly powerful rivals.

‘Lady Yurian.’

Cristiang’s gaze met that of the First Daughter, Yurian, standing across the room.

She smiled warmly at him.

A beautiful smile, as if rejoicing in her brother’s victory.

But for some reason, Cristiang found her far more threatening than the flashy Eshed ever was.

‘In terms of danger, she’s on par with Sherard.’

It wasn’t just about strength.

Sherard’s danger level was lower than his power suggested.

He was too obsessed with the thrill of slaughter, leaving many openings.

Yurian was the opposite.

From that smiling face, a deadly dagger could strike at any moment.

And then there was Marquis Langham, who had begun baring his teeth at Cristiang.

The higher he climbed, the stronger his enemies became.

‘It’ll be the same going forward.’

Is it over once he surpasses Langham?

Not a chance.

From the Poisonous House’s venomous lord,

To the fallen ruin of the Destruction House,

The Demon King of the Azure Stream,

The lords of the Four Kings’ Castle,

The Bloodthirsty Demon King,

And perhaps even the ultimate mastermind behind all this—the Divine (?) House of Magic.

Until Cristiang finally reaches the pinnacle of the Magic Empire, he will face endlessly powerful foes.

‘That’s a problem for later. Right now, I need to deal with the disaster in Gold Cross.’

News of tragedy would soon reach the Dark House as well.

Thinking this through, Cristiang suddenly let out a deep sigh.

‘Ugh. This never ends. When will I ever get a break?’

It had been tough since his return, but lately, it felt like there was no rest at all.

‘Once all this is over, I’ll laze around without lifting a finger and enjoy all the wealth and glory in the world!’

Looking up at the sky, Cristiang declared his dream.

The sun was setting.

A twilight that seemed to mock him, saying he still had a long way to go.

---

Two days later.

The banquet was held.

Since it was to celebrate Cristiang’s appointment as the new figurehead of the Dark House, a great many people gathered.

“Oh ho ho. So many have come just to see the young master’s grand appearance. This girl’s heart is overflowing with joy.”

“…”

Cristiang looked bewildered at the cute-looking girl standing beside him.

Yes, a ‘girl.’

Not a ghostly form.

Mari had appeared in a human body!

“How did you materialize?”

“Oh ho ho. As the young master’s power grows stronger, I’ve been able to use more of my abilities,” Mari said with a bright smile.

Her smile was cute and lovely, unlike a ghost’s.

Her appearance was that of a pure, delicate young maiden.

“Now I can serve the young master ‘properly’ in a physical form. Oh ho ho. You can look forward to it every night.”

“…Look forward to what?”

“Oh ho ho. Your shy expression is truly adorable. I will devote all my heart and passion to serving you every night, so please look forward to it… ah!”

With a hiss like air escaping, Mari’s body wavered like smoke and turned back into a transparent ghostly form.

[…I still don’t have enough stamina to maintain this. I’m sorry if you were expecting too much. Serving you nightly will require the young master to grow even stronger.]

“…I wasn’t expecting anything like that. Stop with the weird jokes.”

“Oh ho ho. Jokes? My devoted heart toward the young master is always sincere. Please, young master, do your best to grow stronger quickly, looking forward to this girl’s passionate nightly service.”

Cristiang shook his head in disbelief.

She sounded just like a banshee, spouting maiden ghost nonsense.

‘Still, materialization… I knew she wasn’t an ordinary banshee.’

Mari’s ability to manifest physically was no small matter.

Only the highest-ranking spirits could manifest their essence in the material world.

Perhaps Mari was an even higher-level being than Cristiang had imagined.

‘Anyway, I want a drink. It’s my banquet, yet I’m stuck with ginger ale again.’

Cristiang frowned as he looked at the ginger juice in his hand.

Everyone else was drinking and having a good time, but Cristiang was the only one stuck with non-alcoholic ginger juice.

‘When will I ever be allowed to drink? These Ma’in are so old-fashioned!’

He sighed deeply and took a sip, when people began to approach him.

“Congratulations, Your Highness.”

“I am Count Lloyd. I observed your recent duel with great interest. Thanks to someone as remarkable as you, the future of the Dark House looks bright.”

“I am Baron Enya. I look forward to working with you.”

One after another, they bowed respectfully.

It was a very different atmosphere from the last banquet.

A clear sign that Cristiang had become the true power behind the Dark House.

However, the mood hadn’t completely shifted in his favor.

Yurian was still there.

‘She may not command forces like Eshed did, but I can’t underestimate Lady Yurian.’

Cristiang glanced at her.

As always, Yurian treated everyone warmly.

That was her strength.

The goodwill she enjoyed from all.

No one in the Dark House disliked Lady Yurian.

Unbeknownst to most, the influence of the Dark Maga was spreading throughout the entire realm.

“More than anything, from now on, the Marquis of Langham will fully support Princess Yulian’s cause.”

For that reason, some minds were already leaning that way.

The fact that the Nogaju was quietly backing Christian was no longer a secret.

But how much longer could the Nogaju live?

At best, only a few more years.

Maybe not even that long.

So what would happen after that?

“The moment the Nogaju’s life ends, Prince Christian’s fate is sealed.”

It was the Nogaju who had blocked the Marquis of Langham from inheriting the headship.

But once the Nogaju was gone?

No one would be left to stop the Marquis of Langham.

He would take the headship himself, and the chances of Christian being allowed to live peacefully were slim.

So the sharpest minds came to a conclusion.

Christian’s sudden rise was only temporary, and it was wise to be cautious about whose side to take.

Because of this, the atmosphere at the banquet was split in two.

There were those who enthusiastically supported Christian, impressed by his recent displays.

And those who, looking far ahead, chose to back Yulian.

A subtle tension hung in the air, but Christian remained indifferent.

“Well, this was exactly what I expected. By the way, it’s about time news of the Gold Cross disaster started spreading.”

His eyes darkened.

“The plan is already underway.”

Soon, word would reach the Dark Maga as well.