CHAPTER 303: RITUAL OF LOYALTY

Lucas did not linger long at the Alden estate.

Although his mother wanted him to stay for the night and his father wanted to catch up properly, he knew the clock was already ticking. The war tide was rising, and every hour lost would be paid for in blood later.

After a few hours of warm conversation, reassurance, and reluctant farewells, he stood again in the courtyard. Lady Mariana clung to his sleeve for a moment longer before letting go, and Elder Gideon placed a firm hand on his shoulder, silently urging him to return safely. Lucas bowed his head, promising them both that he would.

Then he stepped back into the carriage that had brought him and returned to the palace.

The moment he arrived, the atmosphere felt different. Soldiers were running drills in the outer yards. Messengers hurried across the corridors. Formation masters argued in hushed voices over glowing arrays. A storm was already brewing here.

Lucas went straight to his wing of the palace.

He found Selene, Lira, and Nyx gathered outside his chamber, discussing the sudden changes in the kingdom. The moment they sensed him approaching, they turned toward him.

Selene’s relief showed first.

"You’re back. I thought you might stay with your parents longer."

"I wanted to," Lucas replied, "but we don’t have that luxury anymore."

Lira stepped closer, frowning lightly at the serious tone in his voice. "What happened?"

Lucas looked between the three of them, his expression firm but calm.

"The king has sent out messages. The war will begin soon. Rus is under siege, Lechia has already fallen, and the usurpers are tightening their grip. We cannot go into this unprepared."

Nyx folded her arms. "So you want us to get stronger."

"I need all of you at your best," Lucas said. "The battles ahead will be terrifying and bloody. You won’t survive if you remain as you are. Spend the next days cultivating as much as you possibly can. Do not hold back."

Selene swallowed softly but nodded. "Understood."

Lira placed a hand on her chest. "Then we’ll give it everything."

Nyx met his gaze directly, sharp and determined. "We won’t drag you down."

Lucas softened slightly. "I never thought any of you would. But I want you alive. So cultivate. Day and night. No distractions."

Selene reached forward and slipped her fingers briefly around his wrist, comforting but full of resolve. "Then we’ll return stronger. That’s a promise."

In the middle of their discussion, a small figure peeked from behind Nyx.

The Ice Belle.

She had been with Nyx ever since Lucas left for the Alden estate, playing, snacking, and even dozing on her lap. Now she clung to the hem of Nyx’s robe and peeked up at Lucas timidly.

Nyx rested a hand on the little creature’s head.

"She didn’t want to leave my side," Nyx said quietly. "I think we’ve grown closer."

The Ice Belle nodded rapidly, her icy-blue eyes shining.

"Nyx is cold," she said proudly, even though her definition of "cold" was based more on emotional comfort than temperature.

Lucas blinked, slightly surprised but genuinely pleased. "I’m glad. Stay with her then. She can help you control your affinity better."

The Ice Belle hopped once and gave a glowing smile, as if accepting a grand mission.

Lucas took one last look at the three women before him.

"Cultivate. No matter what."

They nodded in unison, determination solidifying in their eyes.

The days ahead would not be quiet, nor peaceful.

But at least now, they were preparing.

As Selene, Lira, and Nyx finally dispersed to begin their cultivation retreat, the hallway outside Lucas’s chamber gradually quieted.

Lucas exhaled slowly, letting his mind settle.

There was still too much to do.

He turned to the nearest attendant standing guard outside his door.

"Send for the crippled grandmaster, my prisoner." Lucas said. "Tell him to come to my chamber immediately. No delays."

The guard bowed deeply and hurried off with the order.

Lucas closed the door behind him and stepped further into his chamber. The Ice Belle hopped onto his bed and curled herself into a cushion of frostlight, humming softly. She watched him with curious eyes but didn’t disturb him.

Lucas walked straight to the tall lacquered cabinet against the wall...his private collection of potions, elixirs, and rare substances gathered from missions, gifts, or rewards. He opened the twin doors, and the familiar scent of herbs, spirit blossoms, and concentrated elemental essences drifted out.

Row after row of bottles glimmered in precise formation.

Some were low-grade healing tonic.

Others were mid-tier restoratives, qi enhancers, or rare affinity boosters.

A few, sealed with reinforced talismanic cloth, were lethal poisons meant only for last-resort scenarios.

Lucas ran a hand lightly over the first shelf.

Too weak.

Those wouldn’t help in a war.

He crouched down to the second shelf, lifting a vial of Deepwater Spirit Essence and rolling it between his fingers. It was useful for strengthening meridians, but not enough for what he faced.

He set it down.

Next came a flask of Cloudbreak Surge Elixir, a potent stimulant for rapid qi circulation. He held it up to the light, studying the clarity and thickness of the liquid.

"Risky," he murmured to himself. "But it might be useful on the battlefield."

He began pulling out several vials, placing them neatly on the table...potions that could heal, ones that could boost combat output temporarily, and a handful of dangerous ones he hoped he wouldn’t have to use.

He continued sorting, eyes sharp, mind weighing every possible scenario he might face.

The Ice Belle tilted her head.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously, voice soft and airy, like the chiming of icicles.

"Preparing," Lucas replied without looking up. "War requires more than a sword and cultivation. I need everything that can give us an advantage."

She nodded sagely, even though she barely understood, and resumed grooming her frost-covered hair.

Lucas’s gaze hardened slightly as he picked up a final bottle...a small crystal vial with swirling white mist trapped inside. An extremely rare potion. It could save a life. Or end one.

He placed it beside the others.

Then he straightened his back and listened for footsteps in the corridor.

The crippled grandmaster would arrive soon.

And there was something very important Lucas needed to tell him.

As soon as the crippled grandmaster was helped across the threshold of Lucas’s chamber, he bowed so deeply that his forehead nearly touched the floor.

Lucas raised a hand. "Stand. There’s no need for that."

The old man straightened slowly, leaning heavily on his cane. His eyes were sunken but still sharp with the instinct of a cultivator who had once stood atop the battlefield. "Young master... you called for me. What is it you require?"

Lucas gestured for him to sit, then took a seat opposite him. The table between them was covered with neatly arranged vials.

"War is coming," Lucas said. "Sooner than anyone in Valerion is prepared for. And I need every blade, every cultivator who can still stand, every drop of strength the kingdom can muster."

The crippled grandmaster nodded stiffly. "If only I were whole..."

"That is why I called you," Lucas interrupted calmly.

He picked up a small green vial, its contents glowing faintly.

"This is a Restoration Elixir. A high-grade one. Combined with the treatment I’ll provide afterward, you can recover your crippled meridians. Not fully to what you once were," Lucas added honestly, "but enough to fight again. Enough to be useful."

For a long moment, the man didn’t breathe.

Then his lips trembled.

"Young master..." he whispered. "No... no, I must be hearing wrong..."

"You’re not," Lucas replied quietly. "I’m offering you a chance to regain your cultivation."

The man’s knees buckled. He dropped to the ground and clutched Lucas’s leg like a man who had just been pulled from drowning.

"Young master! I.... I never thought.... after everything I’ve done...after how foolishly I wasted my life...you still..." His voice broke. "Thank you... thank you... I will give you everything. My life, my soul. I will serve you until I die!"

Lucas didn’t pull away. He let the man release all the weight he’d carried, the regret, the longing, the humiliation of being powerless.

But he also didn’t let sentiment cloud his judgment.

"Lift your head," Lucas said gently.

The grandmaster obeyed, tears still running down his wrinkled face.

"You offering your loyalty is good," Lucas continued. "But the times ahead will be darker than anything you’ve ever seen. Words alone are not enough. I can’t gamble the future of Valerion on trust alone."

The old man blinked. "Young master... what do you mean?"

Lucas held up his hand, and a faint silver-blue rune flickered across his palm...ancient, intricate, binding.

"There is a ritual," Lucas said slowly. "It does not require blood or pain. It does not take away your freedom. But it forms a pact...a soul oath."

The crippled grandmaster stared at the glowing rune, mesmerized.

"If I restore your power," Lucas said, "I want more than a promise. I want certainty. That when the war begins, you will stand with me. Fight for me. Never betray me."

The grandmaster pressed a hand to his chest as if steadying his pounding heart.

"Young master," he choked out, "if you asked me to crawl across broken glass to earn this chance, I would. A ritual? A pact? Anything you ask, I will swear to it."

Lucas nodded slowly.

"Good," he said. "Then let’s begin."