Chapter 65

Chapter 65

Chapter 65

Upon regaining consciousness amidst the nocturnal gloom, Dale suddenly found himself in a landscape that felt extremely familiar to him.

—You have finally come to see me, haven’t you?

Before him stood a girl with black goat horns, whose dark attire danced slightly under a wind of desolate cold.

—I have been waiting for you, brother.

Her expression reflected the pure joy of an infant contemplating the return of her progenitor after a prolonged absence.

Contemplating that face brought to Dale’s memory an old conversation with his father, the Black Duke.

—Do you know the world of truth?

That restrictive and inhospitable environment that was mandatory to traverse if one wished to reach the ninth circle.

—Ahahaha!

The young girl burst into a clean laugh, unable to contain the amusement the situation caused her.

—What do you find so funny? —Dale inquired, visibly confused.

Holding her sides from the laughing fit, she was barely able to articulate a word:

—It’s just that… —She paused for an instant before continuing—. I come from that very environment.

—…!

The young man held his breath upon understanding the reality. The Book of the Black Goat was far from being a simple manuscript of sorcery, and the entity before him did not correspond to a mere specter projected by the mind of a mage.

Did this mean that the imperishable Frederick had also crossed paths with the world of truth?

If multiple mages managed to enter said territory, what was the reason that the historical records of the continental lands never mentioned a mage of the ninth circle?

—Then, are you…? —Dale questioned once more, with caution—. One of the demonic entities of that place?

—Demon? What do you mean by that?

The girl tilted her head denoting naivety, but immediately her gesture turned into a grimace of absolute contempt, as if she were observing an insignificant creature.

—Do you really believe that a perishable being, limited by the barriers of reason, possesses the capacity to understand us?

—……!

An indomitable coercion began to emanate from her being, surpassing any previous experience of Dale. From the lower part of her clothing emerged limbs in the form of tentacles that proceeded to cover the young man’s entire surroundings in a gloom as dense as the abyss itself.

—Listen, I…

The girl shortened the distance between them, softening the tone of her words.

—I have a great affection for you, brother.

She surrounded him with her arms while she whispered in his ear intimately.

—Your solitary walk and your distancing from the rest are so charming that I cannot contain myself.

That voice was far from belonging to an infant; it possessed the maturity and the fervor of a woman sunk in delight and fixation.

—Therefore, I will remain by your side.

Despite her words, the physical contact completely lacked warmth.

—I will act as the “good girl” who attends to your requests.

A frigid helplessness began to infiltrate the young man’s chest.

—What is your identity? —Dale managed to ask, struggling with the cold that invaded him.

—Shub.

—Shub…

In the instant he pronounced that name, an enormous blizzard was unleashed in the surroundings, threatening to knock anyone down.

When Dale came to his senses, he found himself again in the safety of his room.

His chest rose and fell with agitation as he contemplated three magic spheres orbiting around him.

—Three circles…?

However, he noticed something unusual. Although it lacked a finished structure, a fragment of a circle was sharply captured above the previous three, imprisoned by the silhouette of some tentacles.

By possessing the mastery of the third circle, the path that led toward the fourth circle began to manifest before his eyes.

Consolidating the third stage at twenty years of age already represented an unparalleled genius, and accessing the fourth phase was an unattainable feat for the majority of men throughout their lives.

Despite that, an infant of barely eleven years was on the threshold of mastering the fourth circle.

Categorizing him simply as the greatest prodigy of the entire empire was totally insufficient to describe his reality.

After a time, in the quarters of the heavy infantry troops commanded by Sir Yones.

—What a delight it is to enjoy a good drink after an exhausting day of duties!

—You are absolutely right, nothing compares to it after having overcome such trials!

—The rations are extremely generous and the training bears fruit.

—Ha, ha, having portions of meat on the table every day is an authentic privilege!

Molding top-level combatants holds similarity to the care of the best war steeds; it is not enough to subject them to rigorous discipline, but it is indispensable to provide them with high-quality sustenance.

That level of attention was something unthinkable for ordinary hired combatants.

The physical and technical development they experienced erased any vestige of their past unkempt appearance as simple mercenaries.

It was a contingent of one hundred heavy infantry troops.

Although individually they did not emulate the skill of a formal knight, their defensive coordination possessed the necessary solidity to stop a cavalry offensive dead in its tracks.

—Occupying the position of the duke’s firstborn is not a task for just anyone.

—Certainly.

The men, already under the effects of alcohol, centered their conversation on the figure of their leader. Sir Yones nodded slowly while he took a sip from his own glass.

—At first, I assumed that it was merely a presumptuous infant…

—Wow, it seems like it was yesterday when our leader lamented having fallen before a child in combat!

One of those present let out a laugh while he finished his drink.

—Keep quiet, insolent one.

Immediately, the memories of the “Black Prince’s” feats in the midst of armed conflict flooded their minds.

—Do you really think he is an ordinary boy?

—Of course not, we are talking about the most formidable talent of the nation!

—Sir Yones falls short at his side. Even the hosts of the Night Raven Knights follow his orders without complaining.

They evoked that event in which he dismantled an orc warlord by himself in the middle of the exodus of the demonic creatures.

Likewise, they remembered the moment when the news spread that the ducal territory suffered the aggression of a veteran of the black tower; on that occasion, the hundred combatants immediately equipped themselves to fight side by side with the Night Raven Knights.

In that scenario, Sir Yones contemplated firsthand the ferocity with which the “monsters of the Saxon duchy” exterminated the rival forces.

Creatures of immense power that prostrated themselves and swore absolute fidelity to the young man without the slightest hint of doubt.

That phenomenon transcended the ordinary concepts of genius or outstanding aptitude.

It represented the very manifestation of the implausible.

—In any case, for our own… —commented the men under the command of Sir Yones—. A superior who provides us with quality instruction, provides us with good sustenance, and equips us adequately is the best thing that can happen to us.

—And that figure is precisely the duke’s eldest son, our leader!

—Without a doubt, understanding which side to join is vital to survive.

—For the leader!

—For the commander who subdued our officer as if he were just any dog!

Despite the severity in the practices imposed by the Night Raven Knights, the men-at-arms perfectly understood the situation.

They knew well what fate was reserved on the battlefields for those who set aside order and preparation.

Due to this, they deeply valued the demanding regime of the Night Raven Knights, complemented with weaponry and provisions that a conventional soldier of fortune could never afford.

A hundred heavy infantry soldiers under the direct tutelage of the “Black Prince”.

—And he already shows signs of physical maturity, don’t you think? He has become quite a warrior!