"This… is mine?"
"It is, My Lord," Ark said, his voice reverent. "The sole Leviathan Armour Set. Forged from the combination of Dwarven and Elden Ore. It weighs 1,500 kilograms. It's stronger than the Guardian Armour tenfold. With this, you'll be unstoppable on the battlefield. Unless you cross paths with an ancient-ranked mage or knight, you'll be a walking fortress—an unbreachable citadel clad in steel."
While Ark spoke, Asher's hand slid across the cold blade resting beside the armor rack. He lifted it fluidly, the long blade singing as it left its sheath. He tested the weight with a slow upward arc, then twirled it with precise grace. Not even a whisper escaped his lips, but his eyes glead with satisfaction.
"Perfect balance," he finally murmured. The words weren't loud, but Nero, ever watchful, heard them.
He struck a few more cuts through the air before lifting the round shield, its polished surface without a scratch. Then he adjusted his stance and called out.
"Nero."
The BloodBlade lunged forward like a predator uncaged. His sword howled through the air, striking the raised shield with brutal force. Sparks exploded outward like dying stars, but Asher did not flinch.
Instead, he stepped forward.
Nero's eyes widened as Asher tightened his arm and shoved the shield upward. Caught off guard, Nero stumbled back—and the next mont, the shield's razor edge was poised just beneath his chin, humming with unspent force.
"Impressive," Nero muttered.
Asher lowered the shield, lips curving into a smile. The sword was longer than a traditional longsword—perhaps a bastard sword in size—but suited his towering fra. Even now, he could feel his old blades, Euodias and Ithamar, starting to feel like feathers in comparison.
"I'm the first Ashbourne to use a sword and a shield," he said, more to himself than to Nero.
"You're one of the greatest Ashbournes to ever live," Nero replied. "Soon, you'll surpass even the Firstborn, and then… sword and shield won't seem so strange. It'll beco a legacy."
Asher scoffed, a soft sound edged with pride. But the smile lingered.
"Back when Lord Zenas wielded dual blades, everyone else used swords and shields," Nero continued. "Now, the trend's flipped—most carry a single blade. Dual wielding isn't as rare anymore. But you… you bring back tradition while forging sothing new."
Asher's expression hardened. "It's tradition that would've kept from the throne. Had there been another male, a trueborn heir with the Ashbourne trait, I wouldn't be Duke."
He turned from Nero and strode out of the chamber. Behind him, the blacksmiths followed wordlessly. Asher stopped as they neared the elevator. Glancing back over his shoulder:
"I saw sothing… strange above. What else are you making?"
Ark and Dan exchanged glances and silently entered the lift. The platform creaked as it ascended, rising above the forge to a zzanine level.
Dan pointed toward several massive workbenches lined with scale plates and rawhide. Armour—for the polar wolves. The Regent proposed forming a beast regint. There are over 3,000 white polar wolves alive. We're crafting barding light enough for speed, but thick enough to repel arrows."
Asher blinked. The thought had never occurred to him.
"Do it. A month from now, we march into House Nubis territory. Beast cavalry will serve us well." Then, turning to Nero, "Remind to triple Silverleaf's security. This forge is the mind of the dukedom. If our blueprints are stolen, we lose more than tools—we lose what makes us stronger."
Nero nodded.
But just as Asher turned to leave, he froze mid-step. His brow furrowed. Sothing tugged at his thoughts— an unfinished business.
He spun back toward the blacksmiths, eyes sharp. "What about the war machines? Any progress?"
Ark straightened. "We've begun full-scale production. Which models do you want prioritized?"
"The Dragon Head Ballistas. The Orc Siege Catapults. And the Titan X."
"Fifty of each?"
Asher nodded. "Fifty."
The blacksmiths bowed low. "We shall begin imdiately."
---
Elsewhere…
While Duke Asher visited the secrets of his steel-wrought dominion, the golden sugar burst into the northern markets like a cot set ablaze—radiant, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore.
It whipped up a frenzy greater than the fad olive oil that once turned the tide of the north's importance. The sugar's effects were almost miraculous: sharper minds, stronger joints, less pain, better sleep.
In re days, Goshen beca a glowing hive of traders, voices echoing through packed streets like rolling thunder. Even far-off rchants from Mormont trampled over hills and frostbitten paths to seize a piece of the sweet rchandise.
It would be stupidity—no, sacrilege—to ignore such a phenonon.
Even in the outer dominions, nobles began hoarding it. The elderly who once lay bedridden now walked unassisted, and chronic coughs vanished with a spoonful of the syrup. In the halls of the desperate and powerful alike, golden sugar beca not just a delicacy—but a divine reprieve.
Seated upon his fur-cloaked dais in the frigid stone hall of Castle Marrowind, Count Marrowind watched the court proceedings with a dispassionate scowl. Yet his hand clutched the cup of warm tea unnaturally tight.
A rchant approached, his voice nervous beneath the gossip of nobles and the mutters of peasants.
"My lord. The Council placed an embargo on House Ashbourne's products… yet golden sugar has flooded our markets unchecked. The embargo is being ignored."
Whispers stilled. Several nobles stiffened, so even clutched their robes tighter. Count Marrowind's jaw tightened. He ground his molars like flintstones beneath his breath.
It reminded him.
Asher Ashbourne hadn't just survived.
He had thrived.
His sugar was now being worshipped like dicine from the heavens. Marrowind's cold blue eyes narrowed. Internally, he sneered.
'Keep fattening your domain, boy. The fatter the calf, the sweeter the feast.'
"I see," the Count said, rising to his feet, masking the tightness in his joints. "I shall look into this matter imdiately."
He gestured curtly. The rchant bowed, retreating from the hall. None dared ntion the truth: Count Marrowind himself had tasted the golden sugar just that morning—and felt his back pain vanish like mist at dawn.
Let the cow grow fat.
Let House Ashbourne bloom.
It would all belong to the nobles of the Eternal Immortal Empire.
Like that, one month went by.
In the Deep Chambers of Nineveh...
The stone beneath Asher's boots was cold—damp from the moisture that clung to these underground walls. The cavern stretched out in darkness, vast and silent. There were no torches, no glowing crystals, just pitch black ahead.
He stood alone in the hallway. The others had stopped behind him.
Before him lood a massive cage of thick iron bars. The sll of earth, rust, and fur hung heavy in the air. Sowhere inside, sothing stirred.
Then it ca—the low growl.
It rumbled through the stone beneath his feet, through the air, through his chest. Deep. Raw. Almost too heavy to be called a sound. It was more like the mountain itself was groaning.
They had told him.
Sirius has changed since the attack. The pain pushed the beast side too far. He barely listens now.
Asher said the na softly.
"Sirius."
Stillness followed.
Then, in a flash of red, a single giant eye snapped open. A heartbeat later, two deep thuds echoed as the massive head moved forward. Out of the dark erged a white-furred titan, his breath steaming in the cold air. He was over twenty feet tall—three tis Asher's height.
Compared to him, Asher looked small. Fragile.
But the growling faded as the beast saw him. The snarl turned into a softer rumble. Slowly, Asher raised a hand and placed it against Sirius's snout, fingers brushing the warm fur.
"It's ti," he said quietly. "I'm about to leave, and I need you to protect the domain until I return."
Sirius blinked once, eye narrowing.
"You can't co with ," Asher added with a faint smile. "The wall might be attacked after I'm gone. You're the strongest one left here. Make sure nothing crosses it."
The wolf growled—a low, frustrated sound—but leaned into Asher's hand. He didn't want to stay behind. But he understood.
Clang!
The chains fell loose as Asher unlocked the gate.
"You went in there for their safety, huh?" Asher muttered, watching as Sirius stepped out of the cage.
The ground shook under the beast's steps.
Then, sothing echoed in Asher's mind.
[Ding! Your pet beast is available for another upgrade!]
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