Chapter 57: Serve Me [2]

Craig’s words resonated deeply within the quiet bedchamber, striking a chord that left everyone frozen in place.

Even Ser Hughway, who stood silently by the doorway, felt a sharp jolt of surprise.

To ask a knight or a warrior to pledge their allegiance to a specific individual rather than the noble crest, the territory, or the grand family itself was an extraordinary demand—one that carried immense political weight.

Damian slowly raised his head, his blue eyes wide with sheer disbelief as he stared up at the crimson-haired youth.

"Pardon me, my Lord?" he stuttered, his usual battle-hardened composure crumbling completely. "I... I do not fully understand what you mean. Serve you... and not the family?"

Craig folded his arms across his broad chest, a confident, sharp smirk gracing his lips.

"I meant every single word I just uttered," Craig stated plainly, his golden eyes burning with steady conviction.

He stepped back slightly, leaning against the wooden frame of the desk as he proceeded to reveal his intentions.

"Shortly after I claimed this Viscounty, the Duke—my father—granted me the legal authority and imperial charter to create and establish my own private military company," Craig explained, his voice smooth and commanding.

"This will not be a standard garrison of viscounty guards, nor will it be an extension of the Darkstar family’s official army. It will be an elite, independent military force that answers directly to me, and me alone."

Craig pointed a single finger straight at Damian, then shifted his gaze toward the trembling teenage girl standing behind him.

"I need you and your sister, Annie, to become the absolute founding members of this private military company. I want you, Damian Blacksun, to become my personal, unyielding sword. You will serve no other master, obey no other noble, and bow to no other authority on this continent."

Damian swallowed hard, a visible lump forming in his throat as the sheer reality of the proposal washed over him.

His heart hammered against his ribs like a war drum.

"My Lord... please, I beg you to reconsider," Damian stammered nervously, lowering his gaze toward the floorboards.

"I am merely a rogue mercenary from the impoverished North. I possess no noble blood, no grand lineage, and no deep background. I am simply not worthy of such an extraordinary honor..."

"Nonsense," Craig cut him off with a casual shrug, tossing his head back slightly. "No man who seeks true strength should ever doubt his own worth.

The simple fact that you became a Sword Runner at such a young age, and that your little sister awakened a Transformation talent as a Mana Apprentice, proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that both of you possess terrifying potential."

Craig leaned forward, his voice dropping into a deep, magnetic tone. "If you swear your absolute fealty to me today, I give you my word that neither you nor your sister will ever lack for anything again.

Wealth, resources, high-tier cultivation manuals, rare elixirs, and absolute protection—everything will be laid at your feet. And when the great Darkstar Succession War officially begins... when I crush my fellow successors and claim the absolute crown of the North..."

Craig’s golden eyes flashed with a divine, golden light. "...you will stand directly by my right side as the Sword of the Duchy."

Damian’s breath hitched, his icy-blue eyes expanding in absolute shock.

The Sword of the Duchy—that was the supreme, legendary title historically bestowed upon the single most trusted, powerful, and revered knight serving directly under the Duke himself.

It was a position of unmatched prestige, a title that made even high-ranking barons and counts bow their heads in respect.

Sensory perception shifting, Craig turned his gaze toward Ser Hughway, offering his veteran Guardian Knight a warm, genuine smile.

"And as for you, Hughway," Craig added softly, his tone filled with sincere warmth.

"You have been nothing short of a flawless, fiercely loyal subject to me since the moment I arrived here. You shall remain my unquestioned right hand, guiding my blades and commanding my vanguard. While I require all of you to stand under my banner, I do not merely want mindless servants... I want true, unwavering comrades by my side."

Silence descended upon the room once more, heavy and thick with emotion.

Damian took a long, deep breath, forcing his lungs to stabilize as he looked up at the young Viscount.

"My Lord..." Damian began carefully, his voice trembling slightly. "If... if I were to refuse this offer today... what would happen to us?"

Damian braced himself, fully expecting a flash of noble rage, a cold threat, or the sudden draw of Ser Hughway’s broadsword.

Instead, Craig simply shrugged his shoulders with complete nonchalance.

"Nothing would happen to you," Craig answered smoothly, his expression entirely relaxed. "You would be free to pack your belongings, take your basket of groceries, and leave the Myrain Viscounty without a single hair on your heads being harmed.

However... I will be deeply disappointed. And I can assure you, an opportunity like this will never present itself to you again in this lifetime."

Without waiting for an immediate answer, Craig turned on his heel, grabbing the edge of his dark traveling hood and pulling it back over his crimson hair to conceal his face once more.

"You have until the very end of the Harvest Festival to make up your mind, Damian Blacksun," Craig said, his voice echoing from beneath the shadows of his hood.

"If you choose to accept my offer and walk the path of bloody glory by my side... visit the Heaven’s Net Castle with this."

With a swift flick of his wrist, Craig tossed a small metallic object through the air.

CLATCH!

Damian instinctively reached out his gloved hand, catching the object cleanly.

It was a heavy, silver-plated token intricately engraved with the ferocious dragon crest of the Darkstar Family—a high-level passage token that granted unrestricted entry into the inner keeps of the castle.

"Let’s go, Hughway," Craig commanded softly.

"Understood, my Lord," Ser Hughway bowed, casting one final, deep glance at the siblings before following his master out the door.

The heavy oak door clicked shut, leaving the bedchamber in complete silence once again.

Damian remained on his knees, his hands trembling violently as his fingers gripped the cold, silver token.

Beside him, Annie slowly crept over, staring down at the glowing emblem in her brother’s palm.

Inside Damian’s chest, his heart leaped with an overwhelming, ecstatic surge of joy and ambition.

’A life-changing opportunity...’ Damian thought, his eyes burning with newfound fire as he stared at the door. ’This is a chance that a commoner orphan could not even dare to dream of in a thousand lifetimes!’

If the Seventh Successor of the great Darkstar line was truly willing to place his absolute trust in a rogue mercenary.

If he saw enough value in Damian to crown him as the future commander of his private military force—then Damian’s true worth was beyond anything he had ever imagined for himself.

He knew in his soul that he would never, ever dare to let go of such a miraculous hand extended to him.

***

Meanwhile, outside the Silver Feather Inn, the cool afternoon breeze swept through the crowded thoroughfares of Old Central Town.

Craig and Ser Hughway walked side-by-side down the busy stone street, their faces completely obscured beneath the deep shadows of their black traveling hoods.

They blended seamlessly into the surging crowds of festival-goers, looking like nothing more than common high-tier mercenaries passing through the trade hub.

Ser Hughway was the first to break the silence between them, leaning his head slightly toward his young liege as they navigated past a row of noisy merchant stalls.

"Lord Craig..." Ser Hughway spoke softly, his voice barely audible over the chatter of the market. "Pardon my bluntness, but... is that young man named Damian truly worthy of such a monumental offer?

To promise him the command of your private military company and the eventual title of the Sword of the Duchy... is that not too great a gift for an unaffiliated commoner?"

Craig let out a soft, amused chuckle from beneath his hood, his golden eyes gleaming in the shadows.

"Do not doubt my discerning abilities, Hughway," Craig replied smoothly, taking a light step over a stone curb. "I know talent when I see it. Damian Blacksun possesses a blade path that will eventually sever the sky itself."

Craig paused, letting out a long, quiet sigh as he looked up toward the towering stone spires of Heaven’s Net Castle looming in the distance.

"And besides..." Craig added, his tone taking on a deep, serious weight that made the air around them grow noticeably cooler. "...that offer wasn’t made solely for his benefit."

Ser Hughway’s eyebrows furrowed tightly beneath his hood. He slowed his pace slightly, turning his head toward the youth.

"What do you mean by that, Lord Craig?"

Craig stopped walking for a fraction of a second, his dark golden gaze locking onto Ser Hughway’s eyes from beneath the black cloth.

"I do not want you to serve merely as the duty-bound Guardian Knight assigned to the Seventh Successor of the Darkstar line, Hughway," Craig declared, his voice dropping into a solemn, absolute vow that sent a shiver down the veteran knight’s spine.

"I want you to serve Craig von Darkstar as your true, paramount liege. Not the Duchy... not the overarching Darkstar Family... and especially..."

Craig’s golden eyes narrowed into sharp, lethal slits.

"...not my father."