Chapter 217 - Book 3 Prologue

On the evening of the day Count Petrae visited Fort Darrow, something unexpected happened inside Petrae Manor, located in Avalon’s capital city.

All the guards and servants gathered in front of the treasury, each of them looking as though they were awaiting someone’s arrival.

Inside the treasury, an earth-brown mana core attached to a golden bracelet began glowing and drawing in mana from the surroundings.

After a few minutes, along with the mana, even dust and particles of earth from the floor and walls of the room began moving toward the bracelet.

As the earth gathered, it began taking the shape of a human.

First came the hand.

Then the chest, the lower torso, the legs, and finally the head.

Once the entire body had formed, its color changed, becoming identical to that of the human whose mana had been used to form its core.

In this case, Count Petrae.

As Count Petrae stood inside the treasury of his own residence in the capital, he fastened the bracelet around his wrist while admiring the artifact.

It was an artifact that allowed his consciousness and mana signature to inhabit a temporary body formed around a bound anchor in the capital.

Every time he used the artifact, his respect for his grandmaster increased.

Taking a deep breath, Count Petrae placed his hand on the treasury door and channeled mana into it.

The door opened, revealing rows of guards and servants kneeling outside.

“Prepare my carriage for the Royal Palace,” Count Petrae ordered.

The guard commander nodded and immediately began carrying out the Count’s order.

Not far from Petrae Manor, something similar was taking place inside the dungeon of one of the palaces that rivaled even the Royal Palace in size.

A bracelet with a pitch-black core began gathering mana.

The only difference was that, this time, the bracelet was wrapped around the wrist of a skeleton.

As the mana gathered, the skeleton took the form of one of Avalon’s most powerful and ancient nobles.

Duke Severian Morthas Vallentis.

Similar events occurred throughout the capital as powerful figures from across Avalon gathered for the Great Council called by King Rex Magnus Aurellius himself.

In the Royal Palace’s Great Hall, illuminated by white flames, the Seven General Council sat on the right.

At the front sat Duke Severian Morthas Vallentis, followed by Count Albrecht Atticus Petrae and five other counts, with each general in charge of their own legion.

Opposite them sat three princes and three dukes.

At the front was the First Prince, followed by the Second Prince and Third Prince Marcus Antonar Aurellius.

Marcus was the youngest and most talented prince of the royal family to reach Tier-7, achieving that feat at the young age of one hundred.

But while the other princes had not advanced as quickly, they had still reached the pinnacle of strength known to humankind.

Just like their father, all three of them had fire affinity, something reflected in their red hair.

After the princes sat the three dukes.

Closest to Prince Marcus was the Duke of Silverpeak, Duke Alaric Veymont, the only person who rivaled Prince Marcus in terms of talent. He had reached Tier-7 with lightning affinity at the age of ninety.

He was also the only known commoner to reach such heights of both power and rank, and he now ruled over Avalon’s largest southern territory.

Yet he was also the shortest-serving duke in Avalon, having gained the title only one hundred years ago.

Next was Duchess Decima Verriana Marcellan, who ruled over the entire eastern archipelago.

She was a Tier-7 with water affinity and one of the richest nobles in the kingdom, with wealth rivaling even that of the royal family.

Beside her sat another duke, Quintus Caelian Hortens, a man with one of the rarest affinities known: nature affinity.

He ruled over the eastern plains, Avalon’s most fertile territory, also known as the granary of the kingdom.

Behind them sat various important bureaucrats and ministers of Avalon.

At the very back, along the walls of the hall, stood the Royal Guards.

The Royal Guard Commander stood behind the thrones, while Prime Minister Appius Fabius Crispian and Intelligence Minister Sir Stephen Rook sat on smaller chairs beside the throne.

While Prince Marcus and Duke Veymont were busy in conversation, Duchess Marcellan and Duke Hortens made their way toward Count Albrecht.

“Count Albrecht, congratulations on your breakthrough, and I am sorry for your losses,” Duke Hortens said. “Seeing the condition of your territory, and as a form of congratulations, I have sent a shipment of food. It should be enough to support your territory for the next few months.”

“Thank you, Duke. I truly appreciate the help,” Count Petrae replied, bowing his head slightly.

He knew very well that it was not a gift.

It was a favor.

Something the Duke would come to collect in the future.

Yet his territory was in no condition to refuse the food.

Duchess Marcellan stepped forward next.

“Congratulations, Count Albrecht. Let me know if you need anything,” she said in a much more sincere tone.

The Count nodded with a smile.

Duchess Marcellan was from the same generation as King Aurellius and Duke Vallentis.

Those words alone meant more to him than the gift he had received from Duke Hortens, mostly because he knew that any help he received from her would not come with strings attached.

Then Duchess Marcellan looked at Duke Vallentis and asked, “Severian, do you think we will have a new duke among us?” She pointed at Count Petrae.

Duke Vallentis simply shrugged.

“I would also like Albrecht to become a duke, and as the student of my student, he has my support. But the decision is up to His Majesty.”

Before the conversation could continue, the Royal Guard Commander cleared his throat, signaling everyone to take their positions.

Then the Royal Guard Commander struck the magical staff he held against the marble floor twice and announced, “His Majesty, Rex Magnus Aurellius, the Phoenix-Flame Overlord, King of Avalon!”

Everyone rose from their seats.

The counts and other lesser nobles lowered themselves onto one knee as King Rex Magnus Aurellius entered the Great Hall.

“Rise,” King Aurellius said calmly.

Then he looked at everyone present, only for his gaze to come to rest on Count Petrae and the Council of Generals.

“Avalon recently faced its worst incursion in the last five hundred years—an attack on one of our northern counties, launched when its lord was at his most vulnerable.

“Even after that, Count Albrecht Atticus Petrae’s house forces and the Royal Army forces were able to hold out long enough for Count Albrecht Atticus Petrae to complete his breakthrough to Tier-7.”

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The King’s gaze swept across the hall.

“After that, he reclaimed the territory we had lost in less than two days.”

As soon as those words left the King’s mouth, the lesser nobles struck their fists against their breastplates, while the Royal Guards at the back murmured, “Honor to House Petrae.”

But the King was not finished.

His eyes shifted from Count Petrae to Duke Vallentis.

“While the performance of the royal forces present in the area was commendable, the response time and the reinforcements sent were clearly inadequate.”

His voice remained calm, but the weight behind it silenced the hall.

“I will require a proposal from the Council of Generals explaining how this will be rectified in the future.”

Duke Vallentis nodded.

“We will get it done, Your Majesty.”

The King nodded and turned to his left, where the Minister of Intelligence, Sir Stephen Rook, was seated.

“But the greatest failure was in intelligence.”

The entire council was shocked.

It was one thing for the King to summon someone and reprimand them in private, but being reprimanded before the entire council, with all these nobles present, was humiliation on a completely different level.

Usually, it indicated the possibility of a change at the highest levels of the ministry.

“If the attack had succeeded, we could have lost a kingdom-level asset—a Tier-7 individual. Not to mention the civilian lives we have already lost, along with the young, rising talents of the kingdom.”

The King’s eyes hardened.

“I need an investigation from the Ministry of Intelligence and the army’s intelligence department. Do not leave out a single detail. I want to know why we had no prior warning about such a large attack.”

He paused, and the white flames illuminating the hall grew in intensity.

“It was not merely an attack on Count Petrae and his territory. It was as though they had spat in our face.”

Although the King did not raise his voice, his anger was clearly visible.

The rising white flames, along with the increasing temperature of the room, reminded everyone present whose kingdom this was and of the power that had allowed him to create such a vast realm.

The Minister of Intelligence was sweating profusely, but he still managed to bow and accept the order.

Taking a deep breath, the King calmed himself.

“With that out of the way, we have one more announcement to make.”

His gaze returned to Count Petrae.

“Count Petrae and his house, whose bloodline has served as Avalon’s northern wall since the kingdom’s founding, have earned tremendous merit in this war.

“Combined with the fact that the Count has completed his breakthrough to Tier-7, we believe that he and his house have earned an elevation in rank.”

The hall fell completely silent.

“From this day forward, House Petrae shall be a ducal house.”

Then the King’s voice grew heavier.

“And the patriarch of House Petrae, the first student of my daughter, Princess Aurora, Albrecht Atticus Petrae, shall become the Duke of the North.”

This time, the reception was far more enthusiastic.

Almost everyone present struck their weapons against the ground while chants filled the Great Royal Hall.

“Duke of the North!”

“Duke of the North!”

“Duke of the North!”

After a few minutes, the King raised his hand, silencing the hall.

“As tradition dictates, the Crown will transfer one viscounty and three baronies to House Petrae’s direct jurisdiction, as these territories border House Petrae’s current lands."

“From this day forward, House Petrae will govern these territories, including collecting their taxes. The house may also expand farther north, as long as that expansion does not violate the ancient pacts.”

The domains of Tier-7 individuals had nothing to do with the territories they governed.

Rather, Avalon had established a tradition of rewarding Tier-7 individuals with surrounding territories to provide a buffer and prevent their domains from being too close to one another.

As for allowing northern expansion, that was the King’s subtle way of telling Duke Petrae to take his revenge.

“Tonight, the royal family will host a banquet in honor of the Duke of the North, Albrecht Atticus Petrae,” the King said.

Then he left the Great Hall, allowing the nobles to congratulate Duke Petrae.

Yet amid the sea of nobles, an unexpected figure approached him.

“Congratulations to the Duke of the North.”

The loud voice of the Duke of Silverpeak, Alaric Veymont, caught everyone’s attention.

The nobles bowed and parted, allowing him to approach Duke Petrae.

“And your legion has produced another great talent, much like my right-hand man, Nathan, here,” Duke Veymont said, pointing at the warrior standing behind him. “I have heard about Leif’s performance in the war. That kid has talent.”

His smile widened.

“Why don’t you let me train him? After all, for a commoner, there is no better place to grow than Silverpeak.”

Then his tone became more meaningful.

“And I am sure we can arrange an exchange of equal value. Your territory needs as many resources as it can get, after all.”

Duke Petrae looked into the eyes of a man who was more than three centuries younger than him, yet had become a Tier-7 a century before him.

Open contempt appeared in his gaze.

“Duke, why not poach him directly, as you so often do?” Duke Petrae replied in a provocative tone.

After all, he knew that many nobles had approached Leif during his time at the academy.

And one of them was Duke Veymont.

Unfazed by the comment, Duke Veymont simply smiled.

“He is a kid. He does not understand what a difference good resources can make. But I am sure you can make him understand.”

He paused, then added, “Or perhaps you could simply let him visit Silverpeak’s training facilities. He will understand on his own.”

“While there is no denying that the training available at Silverpeak is among the best in Avalon, don’t forget that you were trained by Legion Seven and the military academy.”

Duke Petrae’s voice remained calm.

“I am sure I can do it again, especially after gaining a better understanding of the earth element.”

Duke Veymont merely sighed.

He had known that this would be the result, but he had still hoped Duke Petrae would understand the resources required to establish a ducal house, especially after the devastation his territory had suffered.

Refusing Silverpeak’s help over a Tier-2 earth mage was, in his eyes, nothing but foolishness.

Duke Veymont sat on one of the throne-like seats inside an empty hall in his manor in the capital.

But the calm and composed duke from the council meeting was nowhere to be seen.

Broken pieces of the wall lay scattered around him, while arcs of lighting still crackled around his hand and through the surrounding air.

Just then, the heat near one of the flame lamps began to rise.

The flame slowly turned purple, and then a flaming figure appeared on the ground beneath it.

“Why are you losing your temper over a result you already expected?” the figure asked.

“It is not the result that irks me,” Duke Veymont said, “but the gall of that old bastard to claim that he trained me.”

Lightning crackled around his fingers.

“If I had followed his primitive ways, I would still be stuck at the knight level. Then he goes on to compare me to some low-born commoner who gained all his power through an accident.”

“Son, you need to control your anger. Do not do anything in the capital that would interfere with our plans.”

The flaming figure’s voice hardened slightly.

“This is your grandfather’s territory, and even in his old age, he misses nothing that happens in the capital, especially after the recent attack on Stonegate.”

A spear of lightning flew from Duke Veymont’s hand toward the flaming figure, punching a hole through its chest. Yet the spear simply passed through the flaming body and struck the wall behind it.

“And whose fault is that?” Duke Veymont snapped. “I have grown tired of your failed plans over the last five hundred years.

“You have achieved nothing other than killing your own sister and making me a duke. And I am the one who has suffered because of your foolish planning.”

His expression twisted.

“Instead of spending my time inside the Royal Palace, I was fighting for my life as a private and obeying orders from commoners!”

Suddenly, the temperature of the room rose.

The purple flames grew denser, and the flaming figure flew toward Duke Veymont, grabbing him by the throat.

“DON’T forget, son,” the figure said. “You are a bastard who would have spent his entire life as a servant without me.”

The flames around him burned brighter.

“I am the one who allowed you to attain this level of power. And even if this were your real body, I could take that power away from you just as easily as I took my sister’s life.”

The figure tightened his grip.

“Your power and your territory belong to me. Don’t ever forget that.”

After saying that, the flaming figure disappeared into the air.

Another meeting was taking place in the royal capital, but this one was far more civilized.

Atop Avalon’s capital wall stood the newly appointed Duke of the North, Albrecht Atticus Petrae.

Beside him stood Duke Severian Morthas Vallentis.

“Aurora would have been proud to see what you have achieved,” Duke Vallentis said.

A smile appeared on Duke Petrae’s face, only to be replaced by a sad expression.

“Or she would have been disappointed to see how many lives my foolishness has cost.”

Duke Vallentis shook his head.

“Don’t blame yourself. Rex is right that some of the fault lies with the Royal Army’s preparations. Even if it was a surprise attack, our response could have been better.”

Then his tone softened slightly.

“But let us not talk about sad topics. Tell me about the leader of this Black Butcher Squad I keep hearing about.”

Duke Petrae frowned.

“I hardly think he needs the attention of the head of the Council of Generals. He is a rising star of Legion Seven and a good candidate for lieutenant.”

The death mana surrounding Duke Vallentis intensified.

“Albrecht, I did not expect you to lie to me.”

His gaze sharpened.

“Don’t take me for a fool like Alaric. He might have believed the rumors you are spreading about Leif, but I can see the difference between rumors coming out of your territory and actual military reports.”

“Grandmaster, why are you so interested in such low-level soldiers?”

Duke Petrae was not intimidated by the death mana, but he also held too much respect for Duke Vallentis to deny him an answer.

“I don’t care about two kids who are less than two decades old,” Duke Vallentis replied. “I am more concerned about you and your house’s actions.”

His voice grew colder.

“I would hate for you to lose your council seat, especially after becoming a Tier-7. But suppressing a talent, no matter what his affinity is, would be a loss.”

He paused.

“And that would also be something that would have disappointed your master.”

Duke Petrae looked at his grandmaster and sighed.

“I am hiding one more thing about Edward.”

Duke Vallentis narrowed his eyes.

“Like Master, he is an early threshold breaker. Master’s own notes tell us that it provided her with a small benefit and an Uncommon-level skill—”

“But you think she never shared the complete details about it,” Duke Vallentis said, completing the sentence and indicating that he had the same suspicion.

Duke Petrae nodded.

“Then why send him to the front?” Duke Vallentis asked. “Even if he has one percent of Aurora’s potential for research, he could achieve great heights in the capital.”

“To test him and to protect him from the threats of the capital until he had gained enough of a reputation to protect himself.” Duke Petrae looked out over the capital. “You know as well as I do that if he is anything like Master, his location will not stop him from conducting research.”

Duke Vallentis narrowed his eyes. “And his progress up to this point proves it.” Then he looked back at Duke Petrae. “So it was your doing that he trained under your sister’s grandson and became almost the heir of a ruined noble house?”

This time, Duke Petrae shook his head.

“I made sure that he would be assigned to a squad with strong combat personnel, and I hoped that he would end up under Tullius’s command. But Walter becoming his teacher and Tullius later becoming his master were not things I arranged. Tullius knows enough about politics not to be manipulated. He would have seen through even my actions.”

His voice became firm.

“If he had not seen potential in Edward, he would not have trained him, much less made him his official disciple.”

Duke Vallentis sighed in relief.

“Then send him to the capital for lieutenant training.”

He turned his gaze back toward the city.

“I will make sure he survives the vultures.”