Episode 26
Everyone in the family expected that Lord de Barron would monopolize the Blessing of the Sacred Black Rite this time.
The Blessing of the Sacred Black Rite strictly followed the law of the jungle: the strongest among the attendees would receive the greatest blessing.
“He said he’s going to become the sixth prince right after receiving the blessing.”
In other words, Lord de Barron was the enemy Chris would face at the Sacred Black Rite.
“Yeah. Lord de Barron opposed your participation. He said—”
“It’s fine. Please, just tell me exactly what he said.”
“…Chris, he said he couldn’t hold the Sacred Black Rite alongside a worthless brat like you. Other collateral branches attending the rite agreed with him.”
“Hmm.”
Chris crossed his arms.
Count Kazar shook his head, looking troubled.
“I’ll talk to the main family again. You’re no longer the fool you used to be. If I explain it well, they’ll understand. If not, I can ask your sister for help.”
His sister—Merianne.
Since she liked Chris, she would probably lend a hand.
But Chris shook his head.
‘I can’t ask for help over something this trivial.’
“No, please don’t. I’ll handle this myself.”
“Chris?”
“By the way, among the collateral branches attending the Sacred Black Rite, is the Tiramain Count family participating?”
The Tiramain Count family.
One of the three collateral houses supporting the Dark Mage family, just like Count Kazar’s.
“Yes, the third son of Count Tiramain is scheduled to attend. He and Lord de Barron were the loudest in opposition. Damn brat.”
Count Kazar spoke with a mock anger that barely hid his fondness for his son.
“Don’t get so worked up.”
“Do I look like I’m not angry? That Tiramain family, who only mess around with their beasts, acting all arrogant without knowing their place. Their name even sounds like some tasteless tiramisu.”
As Count Kazar’s reaction showed, the collateral branches were rivals.
The Kazar family was cursed.
The Tiramain family specialized in ‘Maren’—dark magic that controls beasts.
‘Hmm, tiramisu does taste pretty bland. Cakes should always be fresh cream and strawberry, just like beef should always be sirloin.’
Chris briefly drifted into unrelated thoughts, then shook his head.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t worry? You might not even be allowed to participate in the Sacred Black Rite.”
“That won’t happen. I have a plan.”
“What do you mean?”
“If they say I’m unqualified, the solution is simple. I’ll prove I’m worthy.”
“!!”
Chris grinned.
“I heard the Tiramain family is about to hunt the raw materials for ‘Ebony’ during the rite. Is that true?”
“…Yes, that’s right.”
Ebony.
One of the Dark Mage family’s prized spirit beasts.
They hunted a beast called ‘Karazov’ using a special method passed down only within the Tiramain family. This annual event was known as the ‘Ebony Hunt.’
What was unusual was that the family’s young heirs led the hunt.
It was a kind of coming-of-age ritual.
“Contact the Tiramain family. Ask for permission to join the Ebony Hunt as a ‘driven hunter.’”
“!!”
“A ‘driven hunter’ who controls the beasts doesn’t have to be from the Tiramain family, right?”
Count Kazar looked puzzled.
“That’s true. Usually, they assign their subordinates. But why do you want to do this?”
“Didn’t I say? To prove my worth. Conveniently, the third son who’s opposing my participation is leading the hunt.”
Chris smirked.
“I’ll show him what I’m made of.”
There was another reason.
Chris planned to obtain Ebony during this opportunity.
How? Using a secret technique only he could wield.
For that nameless third son, this hunt would turn into a nightmare.
In the central-northern part of the continent lay the Mage Empire.
To the south of it was the Southern Mage Kingdom.
Ruled by the seventh-ranked spirit beast, the ‘Azure Stream Demon King.’
To the east of the Southern Mage Kingdom stood a towering noble family.
Endless sprawling lands.
A grand mansion whose splendor rivaled even some royal palaces.
The Dark Mage family.
A prestigious house famous throughout the Mage Empire, even the entire continent.
Deep within it lay a secret place few dared to tread.
The Lion’s Nest.
The residence of the family head.
Was it just a feeling?
Though the annex looked ordinary, even from outside, it radiated a majestic aura.
“My lord.”
A woman stepped inside.
Merianne, the Black Shadow Knight Commander, and Chris’s aunt whom he had met recently.
“May I come in?”
“Yes, come in.”
A surprisingly gentle voice answered.
Merianne took a deep breath.
Though she was the family head’s most favored kin, she couldn’t help but feel nervous every time she met him.
Steeling herself, she opened the door.
“I’m here to see you, my lord.”
Merianne bowed.
Inside sat an elderly man with graying hair.
Wrinkled skin mottled with age spots.
A frail old man who could have been laid to rest at any moment, yet Merianne dared not underestimate him.
He was Lord Nordian.
An eight-star spirit beast.
That was the man’s true identity.
Merianne couldn’t even imagine the power contained within that gaunt frame.
“So, have you reported back?”
Nordian smiled kindly.
“Yes, my lord. As you commanded, I have seen Christian.”
“How was he? Did he seem alright to you?”
“No.”
Merianne shook her head.
The family head’s face fell, but Merianne continued.
“Not just alright—he exceeded all expectations.”
“!!”
“It’s genius. No, even beyond that.”
Nordian looked slightly surprised.
It was the first time Merianne had spoken so highly of anyone.
“Is that true? How does he compare to the other young heirs?”
“Impossible to compare.”
Merianne answered firmly.
The main family’s princes were all exceptional.
But the talent she saw in Christian far surpassed them all.
‘The only problem is that he bloomed too late.’
Merianne looked regretful.
The gap was too wide.
But—
Christian’s words.
Merianne smiled faintly.
His claim didn’t sound like empty boasting.
The Christian she saw that day made it seem entirely possible.
“Hmm.”
Nordian rested his chin on the back of his hand, tilting his head.
“I find it hard to believe. The Christian I knew before was just a foolish brat who thought he was a genius.”
Though he had branched off as a collateral line, Christian was blood of Nordian.
More precisely, grandfather and grandson. Count Kazar was the youngest son of Duke Nordian.
Naturally, they knew each other.
‘A hopeless kid. No innate talent, yet arrogant as if he were great.’
Nordian thought coldly.
His gentle demeanor was just a facade.
He was colder than anyone else.
No matter the blood relation, if he deemed someone worthless, he wouldn’t spare a glance.
“I thought so too. But I was wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“Yes. He’s definitely different now.”
Nordian looked puzzled.
He trusted Merianne’s eyes.
If she spoke so highly, that brat must have changed somehow.
“Then do you think he can fulfill my wish?”
“……”
Merianne couldn’t answer that.
The family head’s wish.
The reason he defied death through forbidden magic, clinging to life.
“…I don’t know.”
She answered without confidence.
That wish wasn’t something talent alone could achieve.
But—
“I do think he could be the closest to your desire.”
Nordian fell silent for a moment.
Then he chuckled softly.
A low, chilling laugh.
An intimidating aura radiated from him, as if the very air screamed in fear.
“I see. Since you say that, I’ll keep an eye on him. But it seems he won’t be able to participate in this Sacred Black Rite?”
“For now, that’s the family’s consensus.”
“Hmm.”
Nordian crossed his arms.
“Will you intervene?”
“No, that wouldn’t be right. I can’t get involved in something so trivial.”
Nordian had handed full authority to his son, Marquis Langham.
For now, he was just watching.
“Besides, if he can’t overcome even this obstacle, then he’s not the child I’m hoping for.”
Merianne nodded.
If the family head so much as cleared his throat, Christian would not only participate in the Sacred Black Rite but also receive treatment equal to the other princes.
But that meant nothing.
“What I want is not a sheltered flower raised in a greenhouse, adored by all, but a born predator who rules over everyone by his own strength.”
Talent alone wasn’t enough.
No matter the hardships, he had to be strong enough to make the entire Dark Mage family kneel before him.
Only then could the family head’s wish be fulfilled.
“But if he can’t participate in the Sacred Black Rite, he won’t even get the chance. Receiving the blessing there is essential to mastering the Dark Mage arts.”
Had Chris’s cookie offering worked?
This was a subtle plea for help.
In truth, the strength of the blessing one received at the Sacred Black Rite greatly influenced the power of their dark magic.
If you can’t participate in the Seongheuk Rite and receive no blessings at all, no matter how talented you are, you won’t be able to properly master the Dark Magic.
Merian wanted to give Chris at least a minimal chance.
“Hmm. Seems like that kid has really caught your eye,” Nordian said with a teasing tone.
“…I’m sorry,” Chris replied quietly.
Nordian continued playfully, “Christian, I’ll be watching closely to see how that kid handles this situation. If what you say is true, he won’t just bow down to such a simple obstacle.”
Instead of offering help, Christian was essentially saying he intended to ‘evaluate’ how Chris would face this challenge.
Merian fell silent.
‘That’s just how he is.’
The Nogajoo had a way of treating those he favored—and those with promising futures—with even harsher rigor.
Like a lion pushing its cub off a cliff, he wanted them to overcome adversity and rise stronger.
If you overcame every trial, you could earn the Nogajoo’s favor. But if you faltered along the way, he wouldn’t look back.
“Pijang,” the Nogajoo called out.
Suddenly, a figure appeared as if rising from the shadows, without any sound or warning.
A handsome man with a dignified presence bowed respectfully.
“You called, Master?” he asked.
“Heh heh, yes,” the Nogajoo replied.
“Merian, it’s been a while,” the man said.
Merian’s expression tightened.
When the man smiled, his fangs flashed like a predator’s.
As a high-ranking vampire of the pure-blood clan, he bore a blood-red sword tattoo on his temple.
It was a symbol that appeared when one mastered the secret blood technique of the Blood Sword Mage, known as Blood Clan Magic, at an advanced level.