Chapter 129: Prepare Yourself

Malrik looked into the Duke’s cold eyes. They remained as steady as ever, revealing little of what went on behind them.

But Malrik had begun to see his father differently.

Behind that coldness, he didn’t see cruelty or indifference, but a quiet concern for his family. The Duke was not a man skilled at expressing his feelings, but he did everything in his power to protect his children and give them everything they needed to become stronger.

Malrik went back through his memories to the very beginning.

From the moment he left the palace for Blackthorn, he had faced ferocious Morveths that helped him hone his abilities and reach the Awakened rank at record speed.

Then Lokris appeared, who today had become one of his most important trump cards.

After that came his battle with Biggie, then the Raven, and finally his bloody battle against Vorgath.

Every one of them had been terrifying and extremely dangerous, yet he had emerged from each battle with rewards he could never have imagined obtaining so quickly.

Some were things he had never even expected—most importantly, the Inheritance Tower and several powerful Fallen-rank subordinates.

On the surface, every one of those battles had been cruel, insane, and almost impossible to survive.

Malrik wasn’t exactly grateful for everything he had gone through during that time. Almost every battle he fought had ended with severe injuries, but the rewards he reaped were as exceptional as the danger.

When Malrik considered the current situation of the Empire, he understood that his father wasn’t just a madman pushing him toward death.

On the contrary, he was pushing him forward.

Every confrontation had been harsher than the last, yet each one had given him something he could never have obtained inside the palace.

The more Malrik thought about it, the clearer it became.

What a man...

He always looks so cold on the outside, yet deep down, he’s been quietly protecting his family all this time.

A strange look appeared in Malrik’s eyes as he stared at his father. There was a hint of understanding in them... and, somehow, even a trace of sympathy.

He really isn’t good at expressing himself, is he?

Malrik nodded slightly to himself, as though he had just uncovered some profound truth about the man sitting before him.

Across the desk, the Duke slowly raised an eyebrow.

...Why is he looking at me like that?

Malrik’s eyes softened even further. The Duke’s eyebrow twitched.

Did I say something strange?

Malrik stared at him for another moment, his expression growing increasingly sympathetic.

The Duke’s face remained expressionless, but a faint vein appeared on his forehead.

What the hell is wrong with this idiot?

A faint smile touched the corner of Malrik’s lips.

You’ve been carrying all of this on your own, haven’t you?

His fingers slowly clenched.

Then I must grow stronger... strong enough to protect everyone I care about with my own hands...just like you.

The Duke had no idea that his son had just invented an entire tragic story about him in his head.

Malrik had completely misunderstood what the Duke had intended with the Banner Bearer Trial.

No matter how extreme the Duke’s thinking might be, it had never crossed his mind to send his newly Awakened son to fight four Fallen head-on.

When the Elders told Malrik to defend Blackthorn for a week, they had expected him, as a mage, to come up with clever strategies and creative ways to delay the Morveths, perhaps engaging in a few small skirmishes when necessary.

They had never imagined that he would interpret "defend Blackthorn" as launching a direct attack against the Fallen-rank Morveths.

The Duke stared at his son for a moment, forcing himself to remain composed despite the foolish look on Malrik’s face.

For a brief moment, he genuinely felt like reaching across the desk and smacking some sense into him.

He took a slow breath, suppressed the urge, and finally cleared his throat. "Ahem..."

Malrik jolted slightly, finally snapping out of his dramatic thoughts.

The Duke stared at him for a moment, then asked flatly, "Have you decided?"

Malrik didn’t need to think for long. After everything he had heard, his choice was clear. He stood straight and replied in a steady voice.

"I will choose Dreadmoor... Father."

The Duke’s features did not change, as it seemed he had expected the answer. "Good."

The Duke contented himself with that word, then leaned forward, returning to his strict demeanor as the ruler of the Duchy.

"It is best that you go inspect your new lands as soon as possible. The local nobles will be informed of your arrival and your assumption of rulership over the region."

The Duke picked up his golden pen again, then added in a tone that brokered no argument:

"Use the rest of the day to finish your duties here, and after that, head to the family’s training camp and choose who you need. You have the authority to select only five individuals of the Ascendant rank, and one hundred of the Awakened rank."

He paused for a moment, letting Malrik absorb his words before continuing. "If you wish to build a larger force than that, you will have to recruit the rest from the outside, with your own money and effort."

The Duke left no room for negotiation or debate regarding the numbers. It was as if he were telling him, "If you want more, you have to get it yourself. This family is not running a charity."

Then, the Duke continued calmly, as if addressing someone else, "Cedric."

"Yes, Your Grace."

The response came from directly beside Malrik.

Malrik jolted and took an involuntary step back, almost losing his balance.

He spun around quickly, his eyes widening in genuine shock when he found the old butler standing next to him with the same upright posture and rigid features, as if he had been there the entire time.

Damn it... you terrified me!

Malrik cursed Cedric silently, his heart pounding wildly.

When did he get in here? Wasn’t he standing behind the door outside?!

The Duke made no effort to comment on his son’s suppressed panic, instead directing his words straight to the old butler.

"Cedric, your task today is to accompany the Youngest. Assist him in accomplishing anything he needs."

Cedric placed his right hand over his chest, folded the other behind his back, and bowed respectfully. "Understood, Your Grace."

Malrik shifted his gaze between the Duke and Cedric, trying to comprehend the magnitude of the assistance he had just received. His father had been very generous today in a way he had never expected.

Cedric’s name and reputation alone were like a key capable of opening any door and expediting any procedure within the Duchy. Very few would be bold enough to make the Duke’s head butler wait.

Malrik bowed deeply, addressing him with the formalities befitting the head of the family.

"Thank you for this generosity, Your Grace."

Malrik turned and began walking toward the heavy office door, his mind already occupied with the plans he needed to execute before departing for his new lands. But before his hand could touch the doorknob, the Duke’s cold voice pierced the quiet of the room once more.

"...And by the way."

Malrik stopped in his tracks and turned slowly. The Duke was still busy with his papers, speaking calmly while his eyes remained fixed on the documents.

"Tomorrow evening, a grand celebratory banquet will be held, where all the family members will gather, including the members of the branch families."

The Duke paused for a moment, then raised his eyes from the papers to meet Malrik’s eyes directly.

"...And perhaps some... uninvited guests will attend as well. Prepare yourself."