Chapter 9: Hunting an Abomination [2]

The heavy oak doors of the White Rose Castle groaned open, casting a long shadow across the polished marble steps of the courtyard.

Outside, the estate bathed in the crisp morning air.

The White Rose Castle, the proud Baron’s Palace of the Lucerion Barony, was an architectural masterpiece.

Built from smooth, snow-white stone that seemed to absorb the sun’s glare, its towers rose like pale sentinels against the backdrop of the rugged frontier.

The estate stretched across more than twenty hectares of rolling land, yet the palace stood alone as its central jewel.

Around the perimeter, life moved with disciplined precision.

Maids in dark linen dresses glided through the central courtyard, carrying buckets of fresh water and grooming brushes toward the Baron’s personal stables.

The air was thick with the scent of rich earth, sweet jasmine from the manicured gardens, and the faint, rustic trace of horse leather.

Beyond the manicured lawns lay vast farmlands where dozens of commissioned servants worked the soil, ensuring the self-sufficiency of the Lucerion territory.

Yet, despite its quiet elegance, the White Rose Castle was a military fortress at heart.

On every high balcony, watchtower, and perimeter gate, sentries stood rigid at their posts.

Across the Western Continent, Superhumans—warriors who had successfully awakened a mana core—were exceedingly rare.

Those discovered within the borders of the Rynchester Duchy were screened and with most getting instantly knighted, bound by oath to serve the warlord house.

Because Craig was merely the Seventh Young Master, governing a minor frontier territory without high-tier backing, laws restricted his military retinue.

He was granted a total of only ten Superhuman knights.

None of them held the rank of Sword Sage or higher.

His elite force consisted of just three Sword Runners and seven Sword Apprentices.

The remaining sentries securing the castle walls were mundane human soldiers—common men granted the high honor of wielding iron in service to a Darkstar noble.

When Craig stepped into the morning light, every eye in the courtyard turned toward him.

He was a striking sight.

Draped in his traditional Darkstarian crimson armor, the stylized dragon-head insignia etched into his chest plate gleaming softly, he radiated an undeniable aura of nobility.

The leather scabbard of his longsword hung smoothly at his left hip, bumping against his thigh with each step.

His vibrant crimson hair fell in a long, luxurious cascade past his waist, catching the wind like a silent flame.

At the foot of the steps, Ser Hughway stood waiting alongside the two Sword Runner knights Craig had encountered earlier.

The moment their young master reached the courtyard stone, the three men dropped smoothly onto one knee, bowing their heads in unison.

"We greet the Lord Baron!" their voices echoed, booming across the open courtyard.

Craig let out a quiet sigh, his golden eyes sweeping over the assembly.

Ten magnificent warhorses stood lined up in a neat row.

Eight of them were already mounted—two by the Sword Runner knights and six by heavily armed elite guards carrying iron shields and heavy lances.

The remaining two steeds stood untethered near the front.

One was a towering, coal-black stallion belonging to Ser Hughway, while the other was a majestic, pure-white warhorse adorned with a crimson saddle pad.

"I see you brought my favorite horse," Craig said smoothly, a faint smile touching his lips.

He stepped up to the white steed, extending a hand to gently caress its powerful jaw.

The stallion huffed softly, nuzzling against his gloved palm in familiar greeting.

Without missing a beat, Craig grabbed the reins, placed his boot into the stirrup, and swung his leg over, mounting the warhorse with effortless, athletic grace.

Ser Hughway rose and swung onto his black stallion with the practiced speed of a veteran knight.

With a sharp gesture of his gloved hand, the estate’s massive iron-reinforced gates swung open with a deep, grinding screech.

"Move out!" Ser Hughway commanded.

They whipped their reins.

Forty iron-shod hooves slammed violently into the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust as the ten riders thundered out of the White Rose Castle and surged onto the main road.

The party rode at a rapid pace, bypassing the bustling merchant quarter of the Lucerion town and heading straight toward the desolate, rocky foothills bordering the eastern wilderness.

A few minutes later, their destination rose into view: an isolated, bunker-like fortress constructed entirely out of thick, reinforced granite.

The 1st-Tier Abomination captured days ago had deliberately not been brought near the White Rose Castle or the populated civilian centers.

The creature was locked deep within an underground prison—a subterranean vault built specifically to contain dangerous magical beasts.

Even if the monster somehow managed to break its iron chains, several meters of dense stone and a legion of guards ensured it could never escape to harm the citizens of Lucerion.

As the thunder of approaching hooves echoed against the rocky canyon walls, the soldiers stationed at the prison entrance instantly snapped into combat readiness.

"Riders approaching!" a sentry bellowed from the barricade.

Dozens of guards scrambled into formation. Iron rasped sharply against leather scabbards as blades were drawn, and heavy shields were locked together.

They stood firm, weapons raised, ready to cut down whatever was charging out of the dust cloud.

"Halt! State your—" the guard captain began to roar, leveling his spear.

However, as the dust settled and the horses drew closer, the guard captain’s breath hitched in his throat.

Riding at the absolute head of the unit, flanked by the broad-shouldered form of Ser Hughway, was a youth with long, flowing crimson hair, clad in the unmistakable crimson plate of the Darkstar bloodline.

"Lower your steel!" the captain shrieked, his voice cracking with sudden panic.

"Stand down! It’s the Lord Baron!"

In a fraction of a second, the hostile atmosphere evaporated.

The guards frantically sheathed their blades, dropping their spears to the gravel.

As the horses slid to a halt before the heavy iron gates, all dozens of soldiers dropped to their knees in absolute synchronization, bowing their heads until their foreheads nearly touched the cold earth.

"We greet the Lord Baron, Seventh Young Master Craig von Darkstar!" they chanted in reverence.

Craig sat high upon his white warhorse, looking down at his kneeling men with cool, unblinking golden eyes.

He could feel the dense, foul stench of abyssal mana leaking from the iron grates built into the ground beneath them.

Deep below, the beast was waiting.

"Rise," Craig commanded, his voice slicing through the silence like drawn steel.

"Open the descent. I am going down."