Chapter 99

Chapter 99

Chapter 99

Chapter 99

The city that housed the wool guild. The offices of the Arte della Lana guild hall.

Inside a hall adorned with sumptuous wool tapestries that reflected the organization’s identity, Dale was present.

“I am aware that Ray Eurys, acting on behalf of the Crimson Duke, held a meeting with the leader of the Lana Guild.“

Making use of the Shadow Court’s intelligence network, the young man had already gathered precise data on which noble emissary had approached the various guild leaders.

“……!“

“I assume the attack on the life of the Calimala Guild leader is not unknown to you.“

“At the very least, I possess the certainty that the Shadow Court supports the duke’s total innocence.“

At the words of the highest official of the Lana Guild, Dale nodded, maintaining his composure.

“Does the leader of the Lana Guild intend to rise as the highest civil authority of the city, counting on the support of the Empire and the Red Tower?“

“The designation of the mayor will be carried out through established legal channels, respecting the institutional customs of the seven great guilds.“

Dale chose not to utter a word, limiting himself to examining the official’s effort to keep his composure.

“If the city master’s accounting ledger falls under the dominion of the Empire…“

After a brief moment of reflection, Dale resumed speaking.

“For how long do you estimate those ‘institutional customs’ that Guild City is so proud of will survive?“

“……“

“The Republic of the Seven Cities, which once stood as the core of the Golden Empire, crumbled until it was reduced to a mere conglomerate of city-states.“

He brought to his memory the collapse of the Republic of the Seven Cities, an event he himself instigated in times long past. That opulence they boasted about so much lacked any value in the face of the hero’s blade.

“Do you consider that the Empire will respect the republican sovereignty of the seven great guilds?“

Dale continued with his argument.

“Opposing the ambitions of the Empire and the Red Tower demands commendable courage.“

“……“

“However, rejecting the pact offered to you by our black alliance will demand no less courage.“

It was a direct and evident intimidation; nevertheless, he understood that without such a reckless stance, the heads of the corporations would never yield. The leader of the Lana Guild chose to remain silent until the end of the conversation.

The well-known maxim that says “when whales fight, shrimp break their backs” made perfect sense in that scenario.

After an interval of time.

Prior to the inauguration of the Black Market activities, an emergency session of the seven great guild masters was convened with the purpose of mitigating the social unrest spreading within Guild City.

In order to guarantee their physical integrity, the most formidable fighters in the locality, the elite executioners belonging to the Shadow Court, guarded the premises.

Following the directives of the “Shadow Lord,” the entity to which they owed obedience, all the dialogues held were transmitted directly to Dale.

Given that the Shadow Court provided the security for the guild leaders, no expression, no matter how faint, could escape their auditory records.

Some time later, the seven great corporations concluded their financial deliberations, causing Guild City to be fragmented into two major factions.

On one hand, the imperial side, whose members intended to consolidate a pact with the Empire and the Red Tower.

On the other, the Black side, composed of those who supported the cooperation treaty proposed by Dale.

In the course of these clandestine deliberations, the Shadow Court assumed the responsibility of watching over their integrity.

Without those involved noticing, the executioners designated for the protection of Guild City had been transformed into operational components under Dale’s directives.

Dale would have had the alternative of immediately confronting the city master, confiscating the accounting ledger, and purging any vestige of dissent using the forces of the Shadow Court.

However, the reason why neither Dale nor the Empire’s forces opted for a violent resolution was due to a crucial factor.

The true relevance of the city master’s accounting ledger did not lie in the data it guarded in the present, but in the notes it would collect in times to come.

Making use of Guild City’s communications infrastructure, it was viable to supervise commercial movements throughout the Empire. The transit of capital, the flow of weaponry and protections, the financial obligations of the aristocracy…

A compendium of the region’s future, not its past chronicles.

If the uninterrupted acquisition of said documentation could not be ensured, any effort lacked utility. For this reason, both Dale and the Empire’s forces competed so fiercely to exercise dominance over the individual who would assume the position of the next city master.

Assets based on pure information.

This element constituted the core reason why Guild City suffered constant affronts but was never stripped of its material properties.

Leaving aside the incidents linked to the seven great guilds, the date for the fight for the crown at the Fight Club facilities was already near.

“Uaaaaah!“

Surrounded by the deafening clamor of the crowd, Dale diverted his gaze. Inside the pond of shadows, a huge number of Shadow Stalkers made an appearance.

Spawn born from darkness.

Equipped with visages similar to those of snakes and appendages that emulated scythes, they struck terror through their spiny filaments.

“Stop this…!“

Before the contender facing Dale could articulate a single word.

Plop!

The thorny filaments pierced his body tissue from side to side. Vital fluid flowed profusely while a scream of despair broke the atmosphere.

An action destined to demonstrate the lack of compassion characteristic of the “Black Prince,” who showed no mercy to his rivals. A maneuver planned in detail to displace a direct competitor in the dynamics of the black market.

The so-called “Black Prince” of the Saxon lineage ratified his propensity for severity, giving way to the next fight of the day.

“We are witnessing a truly exceptional event!“

“Mikhail of Lancaster! The youngest scion of the Duke of Lancaster, the aristocrat Mikhail!“

“… The Lancaster lineage?“

Such a mention awakened Dale’s interest, who immediately focused his attention on the ring. In that space, a subject with attractive features and golden hair appeared.

──The Lancaster lineage.

One of the so-called “Three Great Ducal Houses” that integrated the imperial structure, sharing that distinction with Saxon and Barbarossa.

It was foreseeable that the Three Great Ducal Houses would commission their agents for the Black Market activities.

“Still, for the youngest scion of the Duke of Lancaster to get involved on his own in the fight club…“

Leaving aside for a moment his status as the firstborn of the Saxon lineage, Dale tilted his face with strangeness. Mikhail Lancaster should have participated during the round of thirty-two, however, Dale had not witnessed all the matches. Despite this, he had previous references about “Mikhail Lancaster.“

Such data did not come from his previous experiences, but he acquired them after assuming the role of firstborn of the Saxon family.

A gifted individual in the arts of sword combat, classified by general opinion as the individual closest to entering the select group of the Seven Swords of the Continent. It was no rarity for the heirs of ducal lineages to receive praise as prodigies in handling blades or in mystic arts.

In any environment, coming from a privileged background represents a free pass for existence.

The environment is characterized by inequity and senselessness, with social position defined from birth. The Three Great Ducal Houses of the Empire constituted the maximum expression of said inequity.

Under a certain lens, the brazen descendant of the count’s lineage, Felipe, represented an anomalous element that confronted the dictates of fortune.

Upon concluding his reflections, Dale turned his gaze. Mikhail Lancaster proceeded to remove from the scabbard the weapon he wore fixed to his side. A sword typical of the chivalry, whose metallic surface displayed a crimson hue.

“The Blood Flower Sword…“

It was not a common implement, but a masterpiece comparable to a relic of the highest category.

His counterpart in the arena was also a fighter belonging to a renowned count’s lineage, which posed an ideal scenario to assess his capabilities directly. Or at least that was the expected development.

However, in the precise instant that the order to start the contest was given, his opponent’s cranial extremity was already moving across the surface of the ground.

Without room to communicate a capitulation, devoid even of the deployment of an aura sword.

“…!“

A single movement.

Even Dale, resorting to the projection of a paladin’s faculties and dynamizing his mystic structure, experienced difficulties perceiving the action without absolute concentration. Practically all the attendees gathered in the enclosure found themselves unable to grasp the event, sinking into a generalized silence.

Mikhail Lancaster returned the weapon to its place and examined the surrounding space.

He directed his eyes toward Dale, the firstborn of the Saxon family.

After making a gesture loaded with civility, he showed a faint expression of sympathy. In his role as the youngest scion of a ducal dynasty, he exhibited impeccable correctness and distinction.

His proficiency in handling the blade possessed an equivalent level. An execution so refined and aesthetic that it provoked astonishment in the observer.

The Sword Demon, Mikhail Lancaster.

Such was the moniker he bore, and Dale understood it immediately by mere intuition.

The predominant figures of the contemporary era, those who managed to stand out in their previous experiences, would eventually age and become extinct. However, said void will not last for a prolonged time.

The posterity of the great personalities will take over the corresponding relay.

Dale was part of that emerging group, Ray Eurys constituted another exponent, and Mikhail Lancaster was added to that list.

Without Dale being aware of it in his previous experiences, these new references would make their appearance, and he would find himself in the need to confront multiple of them in contests where existence would be disputed.

Evaluating this panorama with serenity, Dale proceeded likewise to perform a respectful bow with his head.

The confrontations in the Fight Club followed one another with extreme speed.

In that hostile scenario where rivals perished before having the option of expressing their surrender, those individuals conscious of their own restrictions opted to assume capitulation prior to the combat. After multiple knockout phases, only four competitors remained.

The semifinal stages.

Dale, Ray Eurys, Mikhail Lancaster, and an envoy under the orders of the marquis.

“… Has the Barbarossa lineage neglected to send an emissary?”

That naval power possessed an unbeatable fleet based in the vicinity of the Sea of Death. There existed the option that they participated in a reserved manner in the dynamics of the black market without making an appearance in the combat arena.

For now, it did not represent a factor that demanded immediate attention.

On the surface of the Fight Club ring, the public’s exclamations reached unprecedented levels of intensity. The attendees longed to experience the vehemence and unbridled nature linked to vital fluid. In order to satisfy those demands, Dale raised his face.

“At last, our meeting takes place directly.”

Ray Eurys, the adopted descendant of the Crimson Duke and indisputable successor in the hierarchy of the Red Tower, was in that place, attracting the gazes of those present.

The announcers’ speeches, which had previously resonated strongly in the venue, moved to a secondary plane.

“It is a rival that one way or another I will have to confront in the future,” Dale evaluated internally, perceiving how an impulse of rivalry was fueled in his inner self.

A swirl of mystic force in bluish and shadowy tones began to orbit around him and, as a reply, Ray Eurys increased the rotation speed of his own magical structure.

“Emit your sound,” Dale dictated, speeding up the functioning of his four magic circles. Bluish-toned corpuscles dispersed in multiple directions, complemented by a symmetric but disturbing tune.

“Blue Barrel.”

Having consolidated his position in the rank of four-circle sorcerer, he proceeded to imbue the property of “Blue Dissonance” —a knowledge that was transmitted to him by Sepia— into the armament he carried.

The combat zone was submerged under a mantle of shadows, and from its deepest components emerged an entity formed by darkness. In the rear, a Death knight secured his hold on the dark weapon typical of the Saxons.

The strategic approach was clear: annul the mystical capabilities of the counterpart, subdue him through the use of physical power, and consolidate the triumph. With the planning fully defined, Dale proceeded to act without registering any hesitation.

A high-pitched screech tore through the atmosphere as the “Shadow Stalkers” extended their spiny filaments. The creatures of umbral nature attacked in a straight line, motivating Ray Eurys to deploy his upper extremity in response.

With the objective of neutralizing any maneuver oriented to restrict his magical capabilities, he pushed away the influence of the “Blue Dissonance” that was projected in his direction.

In the midst of that whirlwind where crimson tones and darkness amalgamated, Ray Eurys articulated a word.

“──Oh, sovereign of the Cold Ashes.”

He pronounced the denomination corresponding to a mystic tome that he would never manage to erase from his memories.