Chapter 32: Craig’s Offer

The polite, respectful response from the heiress of House Veraxes—given directly to Craig in the immediate presence of the Sixth Successor—sent an instant ripple of complicated reactions through the high-society crowd.

The foreign ambassadors and neutral vassal lords watched with sharp, curious eyes, whispering behind their silk fans about the sudden shift in power dynamics.

The nobles affiliated with the Sixth Successor’s faction, however, felt a wave of cold fury.

To see their leader bypassed so blatantly by an outsider was a direct slap to their collective pride.

Craig reached out, gently taking Lady Alyse’s gloved hand with a natural, refined courtliness.

Completely ignoring the towering, furious presence of his elder brother standing right beside them, Craig offered a slight, charming smile.

"Lady Alyse, if the noise of the grand hall grows tiresome, perhaps you would grant me the honor of a quiet walk in the courtyard gardens?" Craig asked softly.

Alyse’s blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "I would be delighted, Seventh Young Master."

Standing less than two feet away, Aaron’s knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists so tightly his fingernails bit into his palms.

Watching Craig smoothly sweep away the grand prize of the Veraxes Duchy.

The very prey Aaron had spent the entire evening attempting to corner—ignited a roaring inferon in his chest.

Yet, Aaron forced his facial muscles to remain still. He swallowed the bitter rage burning in his throat.

He had already humiliated himself earlier that afternoon in front of the Patriarch and the entire court.

He could not afford to ruin his political standing any further by throwing a public tantrum like a undisciplined child.

At eighteen years old, Aaron was not merely a high-ranking noble—he was an exceptionally gifted Ranker.

Among the path of martial prowess, he was already a Ranker who had ascended into the formidable realm of a Sword Sage, standing right on the precipice of ascending into a true Sword Master.

A Peak-stage Sword Sage.

His pride as a martial genius made Craig’s actions cut twice as deep.

He watched in icy, silent hatred as Craig and Alyse strolled out through the grand arched exit of the ballroom, surrounded by the admiring gazes of the audience.

"My Lord..." a quiet, smooth voice murmured from behind him.

Aaron didn’t need to turn around to recognize Malcolm Tezor.

The nineteen-year-old sole heir of the wealthy Javeren County stepped into his view.

With striking blonde hair, sharp black eyes, and a calculating smile, Malcolm stood as one of the most loyal and influential strategists in the Sixth Successor’s inner circle.

Malcolm leaned in slightly, his voice a low whisper meant for Aaron’s ears alone. "Are you truly going to let that wretched brat slide after such a blatant insult?"

Aaron’s eyes narrowed into dark, murderous slits. "Unless I am laid six feet in the dirt, Craig will suffer a thousand deaths for his insolence."

Malcolm smiled at the sixth successor’s response.

Aaron turned his head sharply toward Malcolm, his voice dropping into a dangerous, lethal hissed query.

"More importantly... what in the hell was Arya doing? Why did she allow that wretched Seventh Child to awaken his mana, let alone return to the capital and bond with three top-tier dragons?

Did she not report yesterday that he had consumed the Mana-corruption poison?"

Malcolm’s calm demeanor cracked slightly.

His gaze darkened, and he let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. "I am just as shocked as you are, Lord Aaron. According to her reports, the dosage was lethal enough to melt his core beyond repair.

I will personally interrogate the little bitch tonight and find out how this disaster occurred."

"No," Aaron snapped coldly, shaking his head.

"Don’t bother with questions. Bring her to my private chambers. Now."

Without waiting for a response, Aaron spun around, his heavy black cloak billowing behind him as he angrily stormed out of the ballroom, completely ignoring the minor lords who tried to offer their courtly greetings.

***

Meanwhile, outside the towering stone walls of the main palace, the ambient noise of the grand ball faded into the tranquil rustle of night leaves.

Craig and Lady Alyse strolled side by side down the moonlit marble path of the royal rose garden, enjoying the crisp, cooling evening breeze blowing from the northern mountains.

On the surface, both appeared relaxed, engaged in a pleasant nocturnal stroll—yet in reality, sharp, calculating eyes were silently assessing one another.

’A First-layer Mage at merely fifteen years old...’ Craig noted internally, offering a subtle nod of respect. ’Even with the boundless resources of the Veraxes Duchy, her natural affinity for the spirit is staggering.’

At the same time, Alyse’s sapphire eyes quietly swept over Craig’s relaxed shoulders.

’His physical mana core barely registers at the level of an ordinary Sword Apprentice,’ Alyse analyzed, her mind racing. ’Yet... the staggering density of the mana resting passively in his body is equivalent to a high-stage Sword Runner. What an utterly terrifying monster.’

In this world, the realms of power were absolute.

Just as the physical realm of the sword was divided into ten distinct classes—spanning from a lowly Sword Apprentice all the way to a legendary Sword Demigod.

The mystical realm of the Spirit Magicians followed ten strictly defined classes:

The Ten Spirit Realm Classes.

-Mana Apprentice

-Mana Master

-First-layer Mage

-Second-layer Mage

-Intermediate Mage

-Ethereal Mage

-Grand Mage

-Divine Mage

-Mage of Origin

-Sorcerer Supreme

The distinctive difference between the Swordmanship Realm and the Spirit Realm lies with the existence of spirituality.

While the existence of mana stems from the First Apocalypse and the Abyssal Rifts.

All living beings are born with a soul and spiritual essence.

Every Superhuman awaken their mana cores, ushering them into the world of the supernatural but those with the affinity to grasp and understand spirituality walk into the realm of magics.

Directly resonating with the Spirit World.

Casting enchantments, magic circles, spirit sorcery and power over space and element to a certain degree.

But most Spirit Magicians below the Second Layer class could only cast magic using the the power of the Tongue.

Unleashing magics by channeling spirituality using spoken words.

While all Sword Experts could awaken any of the six paths of Talents.

Spirit Magicians can only awaken four paths.

The Elemental Path, Space Path, Spell Path, and the Transformation Path.

The existence of the Blade Path and Tyrant Path was far beyond their understanding as Spirit Mages.

Sword Experts were only restricted to the Spell Path.

And just as a Sword Expert could never breach the threshold of a Sword Master without synchronizing One’s True Sword Art with his Talent.

A spirit magician could never break past the barrier into a Second-layer Mage without becoming one with their magecraft path talents.

Casting unspoken spirit magics without restrictions.

Gaining attainment through ascension.

The absolute pinnacle achievable by any mortal spirit magician was the Divine Mage realm.

A legendary status equal in destructive power to a Sword Demigod like Duke Oscar.

For Alyse to have already reached the First-layer Mage class at fifteen years of age proved that she was a generational genius, regardless of her noble backing.

"That is quite enough silent observation, Seventh Young Master," Alyse suddenly spoke up, a light, musical chuckle escaping her lips as she paused beside an ornamental fountain.

"What is it that we should actually talk about?"

Craig stopped beside her, swirling his wine glass with a faint smirk. "Forgive me. Truth be told, I rarely spend my time engaging in polite small talk with young ladies.

I don’t have much to offer other than a simple piece of advice: you should be extremely cautious around my sixth brother, Aaron."

Alyse laughed softly, shaking her head. "You need not worry. I have no personal interest in the Sixth Successor... nor do I have any in you, for that matter.

Though, I suppose I should mention that my father, the Golden Duke, is currently entertaining the idea of arranging a political marriage between myself and the Darkstar Family."

Craig’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. "A betrothal? Why would the Golden Duke seek a bond with our House so urgently?"

Alyse’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a touch of solemn gravity.

"My father has picked up subtle traces of a hidden threat aimed at my life. As the sole heiress of Veraxes, my death would throw our entire Duchy into chaos.

Since he has yet to identify the shadow orchestrating this plot, he wishes to borrow the lethal edge of the Darkstar’s blade to shield me."

Craig’s golden eyes flickered with interest.

"And who among my brothers does the Golden Duke have in mind to be your betrothed?"

Alyse didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she casually raised her slender right hand, twisting her fingers through the air.

"Gentle Wind!" she chanted softly.

Craig could feel her voice resonating with the Spirit World.

A gentle, localized gust of wind answered her call, dancing around her fingertips in a shimmering spiral of blue mana while Craig watched quietly.

She looked up, meeting his gaze directly. "Tell me, Craig... what would you think if I said it was you whom my father wishes to name as my betrothed?"

Craig let out a short, quiet laugh, shaking his head without hesitation.

"A flattering thought, Lady Alyse, but practically impossible. The Golden Duke is a master politician. I am currently the youngest, least established candidate in a brutal war of succession.

There are prominent elder brothers with far larger factions and higher chances of seizing the throne. Why would he gamble his only daughter on a wild card like me?"

Alyse simply smiled, refusing to confirm or deny his logic as the wind spell softly dissolved from her hand.

Before she could speak, Craig took a step forward.

He folded his hands behind his back, his golden eyes shining with an ancient, absolute authority that made the fifteen-year-old heiress catch her breath.

"Regardless of who your father chooses," Craig stated smoothly, his voice carrying an unshakeable weight.

"We do not need a piece of parchment or a betrothal ring to stand together. I do not mind helping you uncover and eliminate the threat on your life."