Chapter 47: ِِAn Impossible Trial
Cedric pushed the massive obsidian doors open and stepped inside.
Silence settled over the hall the moment they entered.
It was not the ordinary silence of an empty room, but the kind that carried weight. Every footstep echoed across the polished black floor, lingering for a heartbeat before fading into the stillness.
Eleven elderly figures sat around a long obsidian table.
None of them released their aura.
None of them spoke.
Yet simply sitting there was enough to make the spacious chamber feel strangely smaller.
Each of them had survived countless battles, political storms, and internal struggles within House Vesperion. Time had stripped away everything unnecessary, leaving behind only quiet confidence and unquestionable authority.
Cedric walked forward without another word before taking his usual place behind the Council.
Malrik continued alone.
Stopping several steps from the table, he bowed respectfully.
"This junior greets the respected Elders."
No one answered immediately.
The silence lingered for another moment before a familiar laugh finally broke it.
"My nephew."
Elder Eldric smiled warmly, completely unconcerned with the solemn atmosphere surrounding the meeting.
"It seems you’ve grown much stronger since the last time I saw you."
Malrik straightened before returning the greeting with a respectful nod.
"I’ve simply made some progress, Elder Eldric."
"Haha..."
The old man chuckled.
"I suppose that’s one way to describe it."
A few of the other elders exchanged amused glances, though none interrupted.
At the center of the table, the only elder who had remained silent slowly opened his eyes.
Nothing visible changed.
Yet the atmosphere inside the hall shifted almost imperceptibly.
The air seemed heavier.
The silence became deeper.
Even the gazes of the surrounding elders subtly shifted toward the man seated at the head of the Council.
Grand Elder Rhazakar.
Unlike the other elders, he looked no older than a man in his early forties.
Long black hair rested neatly behind his back, interrupted only by several silver strands that hinted at an age no appearance could reveal.
His face was stern without appearing cold, while his broad shoulders and imposing frame resembled those of a veteran commander far more than a council elder.
Centuries ago, his name had shaken battlefields across the Empire.
The second son of the previous Duke.
Uncle to the current Duke of House Vesperion.
In his youth, countless Morveth armies had learned to fear the sword he carried.
After entering the Council, however, he gradually disappeared from public sight.
Today, only the rulers of the Empire’s great noble houses and a handful of surviving veterans still remembered exactly why the name Rhazakar Vesperion had once inspired both respect and caution.
His gray eyes settled on Malrik.
"You were summoned here today to receive the details of your Standard-Bearer Trial."
Malrik’s expression became serious.
"I’m listening, Grand Elder."
Rhazakar gave a slight nod.
"Your trial will take place in Blackthorn Barony."
The name immediately caught Malrik’s attention.
Blackthorn Barony
Rhazakar continued "It is one of House Vesperion’s frontier territories."
Situated along the eastern border of the Duchy, the Barony stood between civilization and the vast Morveth Forest. It governed dozens of villages, a fortified central town, and several mining settlements scattered throughout the surrounding mountains.
Nearly two hundred thousand civilians depended upon its walls.
For generations, Blackthorn had endured the yearly Morveth Tide, standing as one of the Duchy’s first lines of defense whenever monsters poured from the forest in overwhelming numbers.
Rhazakar continued before Malrik could ask.
"The current lord of the territory, Ascendant Baron Reinhardt Blackthorn, has recently been dispatched to reinforce the Empire’s northern border."
"He inherited the Barony only a short time ago and has not yet had the opportunity to fully strengthen its defenses."
His tone never changed.
"As a result, Blackthorn currently stands at its weakest point."
Another elder calmly added,
"Under normal circumstances, Baron Reinhardt commands nearly eight thousand trained soldiers, supported by several thousand local militia."
"But after answering the Duke’s summons, more than half of those forces marched north alongside him."
"The garrison now numbers fewer than three thousand professional soldiers."
The elder folded his hands.
"Enough to maintain order."
"Not enough to comfortably withstand a Morveth Tide."
Malrik’s brows drew together slightly.
That explained why the Council had become involved.
Rhazakar casually raised one hand.
A silver object shot across the room and malrik caught it on instinct.
Looking down, he found a circular insignia engraved with the crest of House Vesperion.
The serpent carved upon its surface seemed almost alive.
"This is the Vesperion Command Insignia."
"So long as it remains in your possession, you hold complete authority over every soldier stationed within Blackthorn Barony."
A brief pause followed.
"Including the Baron’s own children."
Malrik looked at the insignia again.
He had expected a trial, perhaps a dangerous mission, perhaps a powerful monster.
He had not expected command over an entire frontier territory.
Rhazakar continued as though discussing nothing more significant than routine household affairs.
"Every year, a Morveth Tide descends upon Blackthorn."
"The majority consist of Awakened-Rank Morveth."
"They are typically led by the strongest creature among them."
His gray eyes remained fixed on Malrik.
"Occasionally..a Fallen-Rank Morveth appears."
No one in the hall reacted.
The possibility was clearly nothing new to the Elders. They had witnessed countless Morveth Tides over the decades, and none of them needed an explanation of what a Fallen-Rank creature was capable of. Malrik, however, understood the implication immediately. Against an already weakened garrison, a single Fallen-Rank Morveth could turn a defensive battle into a massacre.
Rhazakar allowed the silence to linger for a few more seconds before speaking again.
"Your mission is to defend Blackthorn Barony for one week."
For the first time since entering the Council Hall, Malrik’s expression changed. It wasn’t fear, nor hesitation. It was disbelief. He had expected a dangerous mission. He had even expected to risk his life. But commanding the defense of an entire frontier Barony was something else entirely.
"...Grand Elder."
He met Rhazakar’s gaze without lowering his head.
"Blackthorn protects nearly two hundred thousand civilians. It commands thousands of soldiers. How is someone who hasn’t even reached the Awakened Rank supposed to defend all of that?"
Several Elders exchanged brief glances, but none of them spoke. The question wasn’t unexpected. If anything, it was the first question any reasonable person would ask after receiving such an assignment.
Rhazakar answered in the same calm tone.
"The journey from the Duchy to Blackthorn takes approximately six days." "Given your current progress, you should reach Level Fifty before you arrive."
A faint pause followed.
"Assuming you don’t waste your time."
Malrik fell silent.
Six days and level Fifty, That wasn’t the part that concerned him.
Reaching the next Rank was difficult, but it was achievable. He had already experienced how quickly his strength could grow under the right circumstances. What troubled him wasn’t becoming stronger.
It was the responsibility waiting for him at the end of the road.
Rhazakar continued before Malrik could speak again.
"You are not expected to eliminate the Morveth Tide, or hunt the creature leading it."
"You are expected to keep Blackthorn standing until reinforcements arrive."" The method is yours to decide."
Malrik looked down at the silver insignia resting in his hand.
It no longer felt like a simple symbol of authority.
It felt like the weight of an entire territory.
Then Rhazakar spoke once more.
"There is one final matter."
Malrik looked up.
"The Demon waiting outside..."
"...can accompany you."
His pupils contracted.
For the first time since entering the chamber, his composure truly slipped.
A faint smile appeared on Rhazakar’s face.
"I know she is under your control, I simply do not know how you accomplished it."
The words echoed through the silent hall.
None of the other Elders appeared surprised.
Which meant...
They already knew.
Malrik’s thoughts came to a complete halt.
What the f....how?
How much had the Council already figured out?
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