Chapter 21: Dragon’s Calling Ceremony [1]

The morning sun had barely crested the high obsidian spires of the Crimson Castle when a sharp, rhythmic knock echoed against the heavy oak door of Craig’s bedchamber.

"My Lord? It is time to wake," a familiar, booming voice called from the hallway.

Craig’s golden eyes snapped open. Recognizing the voice instantly, he threw back his silk blankets and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress.

Still clad in his loose satin pajamas, he stretched his arms wide, feeling his newly doubled mana pathways hum with quiet vitality.

He walked across the cold marble floor and pulled open the heavy double doors.

Standing right outside was Ser Hughway.

The veteran warrior was fully clad in his polished silver-and-crimson knight armor, his longsword resting at his hip, and a bright, respectful smile gracing his stern face.

Craig blinked, a look of genuine confusion crossing his face.

After returning to the central seat of the Duchy, Craig had fully anticipated that a Ranker like Hughway would immediately be reassigned by the high command.

Likely to lead a frontline border regiment or command a garrison corps.

"Hughway?" Craig frowned slightly. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to wake my liege, of course," Ser Hughway answered, bowing his head sharply.

Craig’s frown deepened. "Your liege?"

"Indeed, My Lord," Hughway nodded, his eyes gleaming with pride. "Instead of reassigning me to the standing armies, Lord Patriarch Oscar has personally granted me permission to remain at your side. From this moment onward, I am officially designated as your Guardian Knight."

Craig inhaled a long, deep breath as the full weight of those words settled into his mind.

In the rigid martial hierarchy of the Darkstar Duchy, superhumans who attained the exalted class of Sword Master occupied only three possible roles.

They served as Captain Commanders of entire knight corps, led elite covert units of monster hunters, or were appointed as Guardian Knights to direct heirs.

Once a noble candidate of the Darkstar bloodline reached fifteen, they were assigned a Guardian Knight.

A sworn blade who acted as their personal shield, general, and absolute confidant.

A Guardian Knight answered to no one in the realm except their assigned liege and the Patriarch himself.

To have the fiercely loyal, battle-hardened Ser Hughway officially bound to his side as a Guardian Knight was a massive boon.

A warm, rare smile spread across Craig’s face.

"Is that so? Then I am honored to have you, Hughway."

"The honor is entirely mine, My Lord Baron," Hughway replied smoothly.

"Come inside," Craig gestured, stepping back as he ran a hand through his messy crimson hair and let out a light yawn.

Hughway stepped into the spacious bedchamber, his sharp eyes surveying the room before turning back to his young master.

"My Lord, you have roughly one hour to bathe, dress, and prepare. The Dragon’s Calling ceremony is set to begin before noon, and the gathering in the central palace is already underway."

Craig sighed, rubbing his neck as he walked toward his dressing table. "Tell me, Hughway... how extensive is the guest list for today’s ceremony?"

"Virtually the entire Duchy is present, My Lord," Hughway explained, his voice turning grave and formal. "Every high elder, vassal lord, and imperial minister governing the Darkstar territories has arrived.

Furthermore, high-ranking delegations dispatched from the Imperial Capital itself have taken their seats in the grand spectator balconies."

Craig’s golden eyes narrowed slightly in reflection. The scope of the event was even grander than he had anticipated.

The Western Continent had been forged into a singular, unified realm under the banner of the Valhalla Empire.

A unification brought about through the overwhelming martial might of the Five Great Ducal Houses.

To the north lay the frozen, mountainous domains ruled by the House of Darkstar, absolute masters of dark spatial swordsmanship.

To the south spanned the lush, coastal regions governed by the House of Veraxes, whose bloodline produced legendary mages and elementalists.

To the west lay the vast, arcane forests ruled by the mages of House Greyworm, while the eastern frontiers were held by the battle-hardened blademasters of House Varax.

At the absolute center of the continent sat the central province ruled by House Goldenfyre.

A balanced, terrifying lineage that produced both supreme mages and elite sword masters, and within whose borders the grand Imperial Capital of the Empire was built.

To honor the sacred Dragon’s Calling of House Darkstar, the other four Great Houses had dispatched their brightest young prodigies to represent their respective bloodlines.

"The representatives sent from the allied families are no mere diplomat emissaries, My Lord," Hughway added quietly.

"Young Master Arex of House Varax has arrived, alongside Young Master Loren of House Goldenfyre, Young Master Ben of House Greyworm, and Lady Alyse of House Veraxes. They are all observing from the high gallery, and imperial protocol demands they be treated with absolute honor."

Craig let out a long, quiet breath as he began slipping into his formal under-armor tunic.

The presence of those four young figures changed the stakes entirely.

Today wasn’t merely about claiming an abomination—it was a public demonstration of power aimed directly at the other Great Houses.

Furthermore, as the Seventh Young Master and the absolute last direct candidate to undergo the ceremony, his performance would mark the official starting gun for the Successor War.

Currently, the Darkstar Duchy was fractured into six major political factions, each backing one of his older half-siblings.

Because Craig had been relegated to the distant frontier for five years, he possessed no central faction in the capital.

To survive the coming onslaught, he had to perform so overwhelmingly today that the neutral, uncommitted vassal lords would have no choice but to rally behind his banner.

"There is one final detail, My Lord," Ser Hughway spoke up, stepping toward the door.

"Before the expedition into the Temple of Dragons begins, you and the four vassal candidates selected for the ritual are summoned directly to the Throne Room.

The Lord Patriarch will grant his ancestral blessing before the doors of the volcanic sanctum are unsealed."

Hughway adjusted his gauntlets, his face tightening with urgency. "The audience chamber is already filling up, My Lord. We must not keep the Duke waiting."

Craig fastened his gold-trimmed leather belt, his crimson cloak fluttering as he turned toward his Guardian Knight, his golden eyes burning with an icy, unyielding resolve.

"Then let us not delay," Craig said softly, stepping past Hughway into the corridor.

"It is time to show the Western Continent what I came back for."