Chapter 90: Crimson Dragon Order

TAP. TAP. TAP.

The slow, rhythmic sound of Craig’s finger tapping against the right armrest of his ironwood throne echoed through the vast, cavernous hall.

The Audience Chamber was trapped in a dreadfully tense, suffocating silence.

Not a single knight dared to clear their throat, shift their footing, or let out a loud breath.

Dozens of battle-hardened martial practitioners kept their gazes respectfully lowered toward the marble floor, patiently waiting for their sovereign lord to emerge from his deep contemplation.

For several minutes, Craig remained motionless, his golden-crimson eyes staring into the air as his mind weighed the geopolitical board.

Finally, sensing the prolonged silence settling like lead over the room, Craig shifted his posture and broke the quiet.

"Ser Hughway," Craig called out, his voice sharp and absolute.

The silver-haired Sword Master immediately stepped forward, bowing his head. "My Lord Viscount."

"Draft an official, formal report regarding the assassination attempt on my life within the Jeju Forest," Craig instructed coldly. "Include every detail regarding the five ghost-masked Rankers, their battle prowess, and the final fanatic words uttered by their leader. Send this report directly to the Duke’s Office at the ancestral estate."

He then turned his gaze toward the garrison commander. "Ser Gunther, you will oversee the management of this news within the borders of our Viscounty. Reassure the public, keep the merchants calm, and ensure no panic takes root among the citizenry."

Craig had zero intention of burying or sweeping this attempt on his life under the rug.

Hiding an attack of this magnitude only signaled weakness to his enemies.

More importantly, broadcasting the incident directly to the Duchy served as a crucial litmus test: he needed to observe how the Duke’s intelligence network and his six ambitious successor siblings reacted to the name Hydra.

If any of them flinched, panicked, or attempted to suppress the investigation, it would reveal who held the leash.

"Tomorrow marks the final day of Craig’s Festival," Craig announced, his tone rising with unquestionable authority. "It shall be a special day for our domain. During the closing ceremony, I will officially announce and appoint the new heads of our territorial government.

Ser Gunther, you are to double the garrison patrols and drastically strengthen the security perimeter across the entire Viscounty until the festival concludes."

"It shall be done as you command, My Lord!" Ser Gunther declared, slamming a gauntleted fist against his chest armor.

"The rest of you are dismissed," Craig commanded, waving a hand toward the heavy exit doors. "Return to your posts and enjoy the evening’s festivities. Ser Hughway and Ser Damian... the two of you will stay behind."

"Understood, My Lord Viscount!"

One by one, in strict military formation, the commanders and knights bowed deeply before filing out of the Audience Chamber.

The massive double doors swung shut behind the final officer, sealing with a heavy, reverberating CLANG that left only the young Viscount and his two most trusted swordsmen inside the grand hall.

The moment the heavy iron bolt fell into place, the relaxed facade on Craig’s face vanished completely.

His golden eyes narrowed into two razor-thin slits, radiating an intense, electric pressure that filled the silent room.

"The time has officially arrived," Craig declared softly, leaning forward on his throne.

"We are no longer merely surviving or defending this territory. It is time to officially establish the Crimson Dragon Order."

He looked down at the two veteran Rankers standing at the foot of the altar. "Ser Damian, as the Commander of the Crimson Dragon Order, and Ser Hughway, as its primary martial pillar... how do you propose we begin our initial recruitment drive without alerting the imperial factions?"

Ser Damian stepped forward first, his posture rigid and his eyes burning with tactical focus.

"My Lord," Damian began, his deep voice resounding off the high stone pillars. "If we attempt to recruit established Superhumans from noble estates or localized knightly orders, we will immediately draw the suspicion of the surrounding lords.

Furthermore, the vast majority of high-tier martial talents within the Western Continent have already sworn binding feudal allegiance to the five great Ducal Families or the Imperial Crown itself."

Damian paused, adjusting the heavy leather strap across his shoulder.

"However... there is an entire subculture of untamed power moving through the shadows. Mercenaries. Individuals who, much like myself in years past, sell their steel purely for coin, resources, and freedom.

They owe no loyalty to the Duke or the Emperor. Provided the pay is generous and the leadership is absolute, hundreds of wild Superhumans will eagerly flock to pledge their blades to the Crimson Dragon Order."

"Hmmm..."

Craig leaned back into the deep cushions of his throne, crossing his right leg over his left as he gently stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger.

The idea was sound.

Mercenaries possessed real combat experience, lacked formal political ties, and could be easily absorbed into a secret military framework without raising red flags on imperial registries.

"Tell me, Damian," Craig asked, his eyes gleaming with calculated interest. "Where is the closest mercenary guild operating near the borders of our Myrain Viscounty?"

"That would be the Blue Tiger Guild, My Lord," Damian answered without hesitation.

"They are classified as a mid-sized mercenary organization operating out of the northern trade routes. While they are not a continent-spanning syndicate, they maintain a remarkably solid roster.

According to our latest intelligence, they have at least ten Superhumans and over sixty heavily armed, battle-tested mundane soldiers registered directly under their banner."

"Ten Superhumans and sixty veterans, hmm?" Craig murmured softly, a subtle, dangerous smirk curling the corners of his lips as he calculated the potential military value of such an force.

He rested his elbow on the armrest of his throne, propping his chin against his knuckles as he looked down at his First Dragonknight.

"Tell me, Damian..." Craig asked calmly, his voice dropping into a tone that was half-amused and half-predatory.

"...how much would it cost to simply buy the entire guild outright?"