Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Chapter 39

In the depths of the underground workshop belonging to the Black Duke.

Responding to a gesture from Dale, the remains of the Night Raven Knight stood up. It was the body of a loyal warrior who had perished in battle serving Dale. Even after his death, his oath of allegiance to the House of Sachsen remained intact, having received his title under that sacred commitment.

Although the warrior had not reached the rank of “Aura Knight” in his lifetime, Dale was able to perceive the remnants of that energy within him and firmly combined it with his own mystical faculties.

Swish!

The amalgamation of “black magic and aura” created a highly powerful bond that coursed through every corner of the corpse, transmuting it into the energy of the fallen. That eternal warrior, now equipped with a sword imbued with a dark aura, knelt before his master and thrust his weapon into the surface of the floor.

Thud!

The Black Duke contemplated the scene with deep astonishment, holding his breath.

“It is surprising… the fluency with which he manages to master it.“

That creature was not a simple, run-of-the-mill servant of death. It was an authentic aura knight, whose capabilities far surpassed the crude creations of any conventional necromancer. This achievement was feasible only because Dale possessed a highly advanced notion of the art of the sword and the foundations of chivalry.

Attempting to reanimate the remains of a warrior without understanding the discipline of arms would have been a sterile task. The Death Knight conceived by Dale did not represent a mere walking corpse, but the living reflection of his own prowess and martial understanding, consolidating himself as an authentic “representative of the sword.“

The sorcerers of the Black Tower, who had distanced themselves from weapons quite some time ago, could never conceive of the splendid combat that would emerge from an executor of this caliber. Not even the Black Duke himself was capable of foreseeing it.

“It has been a success, father.“

The words spoken by Dale broke the stillness of the place, leaving the Duke of Saxony plunged into silence as he assimilated the prodigy he had just witnessed. Although he still ignored that the dark ties of the “Book of the Black Goat” had taken root deeply in Dale’s being, it was impossible for him to question the colossal strength that said artifact conferred upon him.

Even being the Black Duke, a sorcerer who mastered the eighth circle, it was impossible for him to hide his shock at such purity of dark energy.

“The mystical force is polished to a truly astonishing level.“

“That is because I have the teachings of the most capable instructor.“

Dale replied showing a false candor, addressing the most formidable dark sorcerer in the entire territory, the highest authority of the Black Tower.

“However, in comparison to the hosts of the ‘Order of Death’ that you formally taught me…“

If it lacks a continuous supply of energy, a Death Knight is incapable of preserving his existence for long.

“How is that achieved?“

“The time for you to access that knowledge has not yet arrived.“

The Black Duke expressed his refusal with a shake of his head in the face of Dale’s doubt.

“For the moment, my work will consist of instructing you on the use of necromantic arts in the field of conflict.“

Taking as a pillar the “immortal knight” that the boy had brought back, they would delve into the dogmas of war magic implemented by the Black Tower.

“It is imperative that you give yourself completely to your preparation to face the armed conflicts that loom on the horizon.“

Dale nodded silently at the directives of his progenitor. After a few moments, the leader of the noble house snapped his fingers. Several goblin remains scattered in the room began to reanimate, fueled by the power of the Black Duke.

Creak, creak!

Now turned into fallen combatants, they were completely different from their original forms, left reduced to simple instruments of destruction. These beings attacked in a group against Dale’s Death Knight, surrounding him completely. The Death Knight strengthened his posture on the hilt and began his lethal execution. The dark edge of the warrior moved emulating a whirlwind, shattering the skeletal armament of the attackers as if they were fragile branches.

The dark flashes of the attacks dissipated into the air.

It was a beautiful and sophisticated exhibition. They were not empty and ornamental movements, but a technical cleanliness forged strictly for combat. A combat style designed with the sole purpose of taking away existence.

“……!“

The Black Duke watched fixedly, swallowing with absolute disbelief at such a level of virtuosity with weapons.

Not all these warrior specters possessed the same value. The fact that a combatant is brought back as an eternal being does not guarantee that he retains the martial mastery he possessed in life. Unless high dark magic focused on intervening in the memories and mind of the corpse is used, full control falls into the hands of the necromancer, and these men of magic usually suffer from a lack of prowess with weapons. Therefore, the movements of a regular death knight tend to be rustic and lacking in grace.

However, the movements that Dale transmitted through his Death Knight far surpassed the aptitudes that the Night Raven Knight himself displayed when he was still breathing.

“How is it possible that he achieves this?“

The Black Duke was fully aware that Dale never abandoned his practice with the sword. However, witnessing such an impeccable execution coming from someone who served as a “simple mage” and not as a professional warrior was incomprehensible.

“The aptitudes of young master Dale go beyond any limit I have ever witnessed.“

The previous comments of Sir Helmut Blackbear came to his memory in that instant. Dale’s aptitudes. Indeed, it was once again that extraordinary gift.

“How far do this boy’s capabilities really extend?“

Or was it appropriate to qualify it merely as a gift?

He also stood out in the discipline of weapons, mystical arts, intellect, and war planning. The most gifted prodigy of the entire sovereignty, the brilliant mind of the ducal dynasty. That was the descendant of the Black Duke, the so-called “Black Prince,” Dale of Saxony.

“… Is something wrong, father?“

Suddenly, a call brought him back from his thoughts. The Black Duke turned his gaze to the side.

Dale remained in that place, watching peacefully in the company of his Death Knight. It was his descendant, without a margin of doubt.

“You definitely carry my blood.“

With that thought, the Black Duke discarded any other questions from his mind.

“You cause me deep pride.“

“Everything is the result of your lessons, father.“

The progenitor merely offered a grimace of affection to his heir, and Dale bowed his face in a sign of consideration. Regardless of the opinions of third parties, that boy was legitimately his.

As the days went by, the rapid progress of his pupil and the stories about his exploits, which were gaining strength in the confines of the empire, represented an enormous source of joy for his mentor.

Despite this, the emotions of the sorceress of elven lineage, Sephia, were extremely tangled every time she fixed her eyes on Dale. Even on that occasion, while she was instructing him in the fundamentals of water magic, the situation did not change.

—Sephia, are you okay?

Dale’s attentive gaze motivated Sephia to trace a subtle line of affection on her face.

“… Nothing bad is happening.“

That day when Dale underwent the assessment of the bastion and they wandered together under the night sky.

“I feel a great affection for you, teacher.“

The young man’s statement echoed in Sephia’s memory. Although he pretended to camouflage it behind the naivety of childhood, Sephia was able to decipher the background. She was able to perceive it with total clarity.

The freezing environment and the dense darkness that inhabited “Dale’s world,” added to the longing and the indisputable need for shelter of an individual. The search for the affectionate touch of a female figure in the midst of an extremely acute isolation.

Upon realizing what Dale was experiencing internally, agitation took hold of Sephia’s being. It was like the impact of an object altering the stillness of a peaceful pond. Her student, who could barely be eleven years old, generated in her a mixture of restlessness and tenderness. Her chest softened completely.

“……“

After meditating on it for a few moments, Sephia extended her clear and thin hand to touch the face of the eleven-year-old infant subtly.

—Teacher?

Dale showed a slight blush due to the unexpected physical contact, appearing bewildered.

“… The members of my race possess a very long existence.“

Sephia continued with her intervention, using that peaceful and affable tone that characterized her.

“Even when time passes and you turn into a highly graceful knight…“

However, this time she did so carrying a magnetism that was far from her usual behavior.

“It is very certain that I will remain identical to how you see me today.“

She herself could not decipher the motives that drove her to act that way in front of him. When the chronicles about the “Black Prince” obtaining a monumental triumph in the albinegra competition and exterminating his opponents reached her ears. When the inhabitants of the territory commented on the gift and the dark fame of the young successor of Saxony.

Sephia was incapable of experiencing full happiness. The posterity of men is summarized in chronicles of violence and armed disputes. A perpetual cycle of inflicting and receiving death. Seen in that way, it could well be said that Dale’s aptitudes functioned as the “engine that makes history turn.“

An entity of mass destruction.

Sephia simply felt misgivings in the face of that reality. She did not want the infant to walk along a path filled with slaughter.

“Until the moment you manage to clarify your authentic feelings.“

The elf’s clear and thin hand continued its trajectory.

“I will remain by your side.“

She stroked the boy’s cheek while gifting him a warm expression.

“Not performing the role of instructor, but the position of a woman.“

“…“

Sephia expressed herself evidencing a shyness unusual in her features, which looked flushed.

“Therefore, you are not helpless.“

Her attitude was reminiscent of that of a young woman revealing what she keeps in her chest, overwhelmed by the modesty of her own words. To a certain extent, that analogy was not far from reality.

Dale remained quiet, keeping absolute silence while he perceived the maturity of a female presence in which he had not stopped to notice previously. In that instant he understood truly the reason why the elven lineage enjoyed so much fame for its visual grace.

Upon noticing the bewilderment in Dale’s eyes, Sephia…

“Ahem.“

She understood how compromising her statements had turned out and cleared her throat with some awkwardness.

“Well, it is time to resume the study session…“

In that precise instant it happened.

“I thank you.“

After a brief lapse of stillness, Dale showed a smile. Following that, he sought refuge approaching Sephia’s lap.

“……!“

The sorceress held her breath at the audacity of the minor, nevertheless, she ended up welcoming Dale into her arms with a complacent expression.

“I feel an immense appreciation for you, Sephia,” whispered the child, hiding his face in the shelter of her body.

“For that reason, I ask you to wait for me.“

“… It’s fine,” she replied, yielding to the warmth that dissipated the cold and the isolation of her own being.

It was a pact forged in the years of youth that would never be forgotten.

At nightfall.

In Dale’s private quarters.

Sephia’s unexpected words had taken the young man completely by surprise. That occasion, during the examination carried out in the bastion of the Necropolis, Dale’s internal disorder, motivated by his longing to evade the limit of his isolation, caused him to involuntarily expose a part of his being before her.

That event generated a mutual bond due to their shared condition as users of magic, allowing Dale’s feeling to be transmitted directly toward Sephia.

Dale’s internal environment resembled a winter night dominated by inclement cold and darkness. Due to chance, the attunement that both possessed with the water element facilitated this bond, and the combination of “freezing environment and isolation” that reigned inside Dale ended up reaching Sephia’s being. Even for an expert magician of elven lineage belonging to the sixth circle, conserving equanimity under such factors represented a considerable challenge.

It was a gullibility difficult to conceive, however, for the first time, a sensation of warmth flooded her being upon verifying that they understood her in an authentic way.

Located with his limbs crossed on his resting place, Dale watched fixedly the glazed surface of the fortress.

Three circular structures orbited in the proximities of his chest, with dark branches attached firmly between said elements and his own heart. There was a time when he came to consider that he lacked possessions to lose.

However, in the present he counted on elements that he intended to safeguard, aspects that he valued deeply.

“It is indispensable that I increase my faculties.”

There was no margin for hesitations. It did not cause him conflict the tribute he should offer in exchange for the power he intended to obtain.

A short time later.

As a consequence of the massive displacement carried out by the hosts of dark beings, the rulers of the northern lands who kept submission to Duke Saxon began to concentrate in the domains of his noble territory.

Attending the call of the highest authority, Duke Saxon, the rulers of lower rank gathered in the company of their ambitious heirs, all of them with the firm purpose of evidencing their capabilities. Their intention lay in taking advantage of the backing of Duke Saxon and the figure of the Black Prince to consolidate their own relevance within the hierarchy.