Free Web NovelInside the Magic Bomb testing ground.
Silco raised his hand, carefully showing Louis the palm-sized Magic Bomb, its surface encased in a ceramic pot.
“This is the first-generation prototype,” his voice trembled with pride. “Throw it, and it can shatter a three-meter-thick rock into rubble. Do you know? I only used the amount of one magic crystal.”
With that, he lit it, tossed it, and a “whoosh” sound was heard.
The Magic Bomb arced gracefully, landing on a large rock in the distance that was set up as a test target.
The next moment— “Boom!!”
The blast picked up gravel from the ground, smoke billowed, and the huge rock instantly shattered into pieces with a massive explosion.
“Just give me a little more time,” Silco chuckled softly, a strange light in his eyes. “I’ll find the perfect ratio, and then... maybe I can collapse an entire hillside with one blast.”
“No problem.” Louis couldn’t help but laugh along.
It was the smile of a Lord witnessing the nascent power of a future war artifact.
“Lord Louis!”
A call with the unique tone of a youth interrupted his excitement.
Weil ran quickly from the end of the passage, his voice filled with barely concealed excitement: “The Emperor’s envoy has arrived!”
Louis did not immediately turn around, he just exhaled softly, as if the news was already expected.
“Hmm, I know,” he replied indifferently, without any emotional fluctuation.
In fact, he had known for a while.
Two months ago, he had received a prompt from the Daily Intelligence System:
“The Imperial Central has drafted a document promoting him from Baron to Viscount, and plans to send a special envoy to read and bestow the title.”
What was even more surprising was that the Imperial Capital had made the unprecedented decision of “on-site conferment” this time.
Normally, even a conferment in the North required a personal visit to the Imperial Capital, presided over by a ceremonial official.
However, due to the ongoing unrest in the North and the dangers of travel, the Emperor personally ordered that the special envoy could perform the grand ceremony on his behalf, as a recognition of his military achievements. freёweɓnovel.com
Weil lowered his voice and stepped closer, whispering, “Old Bradley is already waiting in the main hall, his face is all wrinkled from smiling.”
“Then let’s not keep our distinguished guest waiting,” Louis finally curved his lips, revealing a slight smile.
When Louis pushed the door open, the envoy from the Imperial Capital was already seated in the center of the hall.
He wore a knight’s robe with purple-gold trim, the sleeves and collar embroidered with the Imperial Dragon emblem, his expression calm and dignified, like a standing longsword, imposing without anger.
Louis recognized at a glance his strength as an extraordinary knight, and also identified his medal as belonging to the Blood Dragon Legion.
And a servant stood behind him, holding a red lacquered wooden box.
The lid was open, and the box was lined with Imperial black velvet, with two items placed in the center: a scroll of gilded appointment edict and a shining silver Viscount’s emblem.
A deep, solemn voice echoed through the hall: “In the name of the Emperor of the Empire, the Viscount title is hereby bestowed upon Louis Calvin, for his outstanding achievements in defeating enemies, defending the land, and securing the populace in the North—this special commendation is given.”
Before the courtier could say more, the atmosphere in the hall exploded.
Old Butler Bradley stood to the side, still trying to maintain his composure, but the trembling at the corners of his mouth betrayed his inner excitement.
He ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) had seen many storms in his life, but Louis’s journey from an obscure pioneering Lord in the North to his current status in just one year still shocked him.
“One year—it only took one year,” he murmured softly.
Weil stood in the ranks, his fists already clenched, as if to suppress the surging Hot Blood in his chest.
“Viscount—!” He murmured the new title, his eyes full of respect and yearning, “Lord Louis is indeed amazing!”
Sif stood a little further away.
She didn't quite understand what a Viscount represented, nor whether this conferment meant any new responsibilities or crises.
But she knew that the way this man stood on the steps, complementing the gold-patterned banner, was so beautiful that one couldn't take their eyes off him.
She was truly happy for him.
And when everyone's eyes turned to Louis.
He just stood there, without panic, without excitement, and even the smile on his lips was only slight.
As if all of this was already within his control.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he replied softly, his voice not loud, but enough for everyone to hear. “I will continue to protect this land in the name of the Viscount.”
Surprisingly, the conferment ceremony ended simply, and as soon as it concluded, the envoy stood up without delay, preparing to leave.
There was no extra small talk, nor any expectation of being entertained.
Just as everyone was still immersed in the lingering joy, Louis had already quietly changed into a cloak and personally escorted the envoy out the door.
Snow was falling, and the wind in the North was as biting as ever.
Outside the castle, a carriage was already prepared, its horse hooves leaving deep imprints in the snow.
Louis, wearing a wolf fur cloak, walked beside the envoy, his steps steady.
“Would you stay for a meal tonight?” His tone was gentle and sincere. “We don’t have much good wine here, but the smoked fish and monster meat still have some flavor. You probably haven’t tasted snow wolf ribs.”
Hearing this, the envoy brushed his cloak over his shoulder and smiled, seeming to appreciate Louis’s gesture, but still shook his head.
“I still have to rush to the next conferment location,” his tone was relaxed, yet carried a sense of official propriety. “In the North, you’re not the only one who has achieved military merits.”
“Then I won’t force you to stay,” Louis nodded, not insisting.
He turned and waved, and a knight carried out a heavy large box, placing it on the snow. As the lid opened, a faint golden light shimmered.
There were no intricate gem decorations, only neatly stacked bags of thick gold coins, simple and clear.
“A few specialties from the North, a small token of respect,” Louis said frankly, his tone humble and proper.
The envoy was startled, somewhat shocked: are the bribes from the Northern nobles always this direct?
But he nodded, indicating great satisfaction.
“Please convey my regards to His Majesty,” Louis said softly again.
“I will,” the envoy replied, flipping onto his horse, as agile as ever.
The carriage in the snow quickly drove into the blizzard, its wheel tracks rolling over the accumulated snow, gradually receding into the distance.
Louis stood quietly in place, not rushing back.
The wind swept his cloak, stirring his hair, and he gazed in the direction the carriage disappeared, with no excessive lingering in his eyes.
Frost Halberd City had not yet fully awakened in the early morning. Morning mist slid from the carved railings atop the white tower, scattering into the courtyard as light as feathers.
In the flower room, a cluster of snow jasmine slowly bloomed under the call of a new round of sunlight, pure white and fragile.
Emily stood in the center of the flower room, dressed in a gray-blue morning gown, her long hair tied up, a hint of dew clinging to her cuffs.
She looked down at the cluster of snow jasmine, blooming almost stubbornly, as if lost in thought.
Her fingertips lightly brushed the petals, but her gaze was no longer on the flowers, but drifted far away.
Her father Edmund’s words from a few days ago still echoed in her ears.
His tone wasn’t a command; it even carried a hint of jest.
But she knew this was an undeniable statement, so self-evident that it was as if her entire life had already been meticulously planned, requiring only that she follow the map.
Emily, of course, knew the responsibilities that noblewomen had to bear, but an unquellable ripple arose in her heart.
She was not a fragile glass vase, to be easily placed in any corner, even if placed there by her father’s own hand.
“Louis Calvin,” she whispered the name, with a hint of doubt, “What kind of person is he, after all?”
Was he the young hero rumored to have achieved great military feats on the battlefield?
Or was he some noble who, by chance, was thrust into a high position by the war in the North?
She did not wish to construct a future image based solely on the praises she heard.
She wanted to see, hear, and judge for herself whether this man, who might one day walk beside her for a lifetime, was worth her lifelong devotion.
“Nora,” she called.
A response quickly came from outside the door, and a maid in a gray dress softly entered the flower room, her voice respectful: “My Lady?”
“I plan to take a long journey,” Emily’s eyes were calm, but her lips held a hint of stubbornness. “This time’s ‘Wonderful Journey,’ we’ll take a slightly longer route.”
Nora slightly started, “Wonderful Journey” was their secret code for sneaking out.
She immediately guessed Emily’s thoughts: “My Lady is going to—to the Red Tide Territory?”
“Shh,” Emily raised a finger. “Don’t tell anyone about this except you. I want to see for myself what kind of person he is, not hear it from others, nor hear my father praise him.”
Nora hesitated for a moment, then finally nodded: “I understand, I will arrange the carriage and luggage.”
“The clothes should be simple; I don’t want to be recognized along the way,” Emily turned and walked out of the flower room, the fresh scent of snow jasmine still lingering on her fingertips.
As she walked through the white stone corridor, she looked back. The morning mist had dispersed, and light was now spilling onto the slanted eaves of the castle, as if igniting an unknown journey for her.
Night fell, and the lights of Frost Halberd City lit up from the high tower downwards.
By the fireplace, Duke Edmund sat quietly at one side of the long table, the sound of silver cutlery gently touching porcelain plates particularly clear in the silence.
He had little appetite today, only having a bowl of hot soup and a few slices of bread brought to him.
When an old servant with silver hair approached, his steps were extremely light.
“The young lady left the city this morning, accompanied only by her personal maid Nora, departing in the direction of the south road,” the old servant whispered. “Do you need this subordinate to send someone to bring her back?”
“She finally couldn’t resist, huh—” Duke Edmund said softly, his tone devoid of anger, but rather as if he had anticipated it, and chuckled: “Let her go. If she doesn’t see it with her own eyes, she won’t be content.”
Edmund turned to his personal knight, who had been standing silently beside him, and instructed: “Let Viktor go, escort her secretly, don’t alarm her.”
Viktor was a trustworthy guard with the strength of an extraordinary knight.
The knight immediately responded: “Understood.”
The firewood in the fireplace crackled, and the firelight intensified slightly, reflecting a rare softness in the Duke’s eyes.
