CHAPTER 249: CHAPTER 248: THE GRAND DUKE’S DEFIANCE

With a surge of power, Sylas slipped inside the general’s guard, crossed his blades, and threw the man back across the floor.

Gasps erupted. Nobles leaned forward.

The Legates smiled faintly, as though watching a promising cub bare its fangs.

To everyone else, it was a scandal. To some, entertainment.

"Enough!" the herald’s voice cracked through the air. "Stop this at once, you are in the presence of His Majesty!"

But the chamber was already boiling over. The other generals, red with fury, stepped forward, hands on their blades, ready to cut the rebel down for good.

Then...

The great doors swung wide with a heavy groan, echoing like thunder across the vast chamber.

Silence fell. Even the generals, bristling with fury a heartbeat before, froze where they stood.

Boots struck the marble floor in measured rhythm, each step sharp, deliberate, carrying a weight that drew every gaze.

The man who entered was tall, broad-shouldered, a dark cloak trailing like a shadow behind him. At his side, a knight in silver armor marched with slow, unyielding steps, each footfall ringing like iron against stone.

Gasps rippled through the court, but no one dared speak.

Then, the stranger’s voice broke the silence, calm and steady, cutting like a blade through glass.

"Father."

"Grand Duke Cassian Draemont...?"

One of the generals scowled. "Why are you here?"

The man’s voice cut through the room like a blade. "Father."

The word sent a fresh wave of shock across the hall.

Cassian Draemont, one of the empire’s four Grand Dukes, strode confidently into the hall. He knelt before the emperor, then rose and moved with practiced ease, placing himself subtly between Sylas and the circling generals.

The others understood at once, he was protecting the man.

Lumberling blinked, almost dumbfounded. ’What is this... am I watching some kind of protagonist’s drama unfold?’

Then, Cassian’s voice rang with conviction. "Father, please, hear our call. Our cities burn. Our people suffer. Families are torn apart while you fix your gaze only on the cursed land. Are we to let our enemies feast on the empire’s lifeblood while we stand watch over an artifact whose purpose remains unknown?"

The hall froze in silence.

The emperor’s blue eyes narrowed. His fingers tightened against the armrest of his iron throne. Then, with a voice sharp as thunder, he answered.

"You dare spout such nonsense? Everything I do is for the empire. If you know nothing, keep your mouth shut!"

Another wave of aura erupted. This time it was heavier, darker, like the sky collapsing on the world.

The chandeliers rattled, marble tiles cracked, and one of the nobles fainted outright.

Lumberling felt his own chest seize. His vision swam black at the edges. He turned, and saw Liraeth swaying, pale, her breath shallow. Instinct moved him. He closed the space between them, caught her hand, and flared his own aura to shield her.

"Stay with me," he muttered, his grip firm, pouring strength into the fragile bubble around her.

And then, another force answered.

The knight beside the Grand Duke stepped forward. His silver armor caught the hall’s light as he released his aura, a surge like steel striking against a storm.

The clash was deafening. The emperor’s pressure crashed down like a tidal wave, shattering marble tiles and rattling the chandeliers above. The knight braced, spear angled, boots grinding against the floor as cracks split beneath his heels.

Every muscle in his frame tensed. His gauntlets trembled, the haft of his spear quivering as if it might snap. Yet still he held, each breath leaving him in a low, strained hiss.

Lumberling’s eyes widened.

’That pressure. A Knight Four? No, that’s not it... how could he stand against the emperor?’

The knight’s aura flared brighter, burning like a torch against a storm, pushing back just enough to blunt the emperor’s suffocating weight.

Gasps broke out around them.

Cassian’s voice cut through the storm. "Father, you cannot let an unknown power blind you. The Iron Legions must be sent to protect the people, not stand idle before a cursed wasteland!"

The silver knight’s aura flared again, holding the storm at bay, his stance unyielding beside the Grand Duke.

The emperor’s face twisted in cold fury. His voice thundered through the great hall.

"Enough. Don’t ever show your face in front of me again."

The words were final.

The air grew still. Slowly, Cassian Draemont rose, his gaze lingering on his father. Sylas fell into step beside him, and the knight in silver armor followed, still emanating silent and crushing power.

Together, the three turned and left through the great doors.

The echo of their departure left the hall colder than before.

For a moment, no one spoke. The air was heavy, the earlier clash still hanging over them like storm clouds. Then, with a forced calm, the emperor’s spokesperson stepped forward.

"The giving of rewards shall continue."

The ceremony resumed, but the mood had shifted. Nobles fidgeted in their seats. Generals forced stiff smiles. Even the legates, usually aloof, whispered to each other with faint amusement. Everyone could feel it, the emperor’s displeasure lingered like a blade against their necks.

When Lumberling’s name was called, he stepped forward. His case was minor, nothing like the grand displays of valor before him. A Baron’s title was granted, and with that, it was done.

The emperor barely spared him a glance before looking away, his eyes hard and distant. No words of warmth, no praise, just cold acknowledgment. Lumberling bowed and retreated, careful not to draw attention to himself.

The ceremony ended not long after, and the nobles dispersed. As Lumberling and Liraeth stepped out of the castle gates, the suffocating weight pressing on their shoulders lifted, leaving them free to breathe again.

"That knight..." Lumberling finally said, still unable to shake the image burned into his mind. "The one that stood against the emperor, what stage is he?"

Liraeth gave him a sidelong glance. "He is a Knight Five Stage."

"What?" Lumberling stopped in his tracks, eyes widening.

She folded her arms, her voice calm but edged with respect. "Yes. He’s known as the Indomitable Spearman of the North, the personal knight of Grand Duke Cassian Draemont."

"How’s that possible?" Lumberling muttered, his mind racing. "I thought only the emperor could reach Stage Five."

"What do you mean?" Liraeth tilted her head, almost amused. "Of course there are others. That knight is proof enough."

"There are other Stage Five Knights besides the emperor?" Lumberling pressed, disbelief edging his voice. "I thought he was the strongest."

"He is the strongest."

"Then how..."

She cut him off smoothly. "You should know this better than I. Not everyone at the same stage is equal. For a Knight, the true measure of strength lies in their skills, and the stages of those skills."

Realization struck him. "You mean... the emperor has multiple skills at Stage Five?"

Her eyes glinted. "Exactly. And as you know, each skill a Knight masters multiplies their strength. The emperor is unmatched not because he reached Stage Five, but because he wields not just one or two... but many. Some whisper, dozens."

"Dozens?" Lumberling repeated, half in disbelief.

"They are only rumors," Liraeth admitted, her voice dropping. "But even with a handful, his power eclipses most. That is why even a Knight of the Fifth Stage must bow before him."

Lumberling fell silent. The explanation clicked into place, and he finally understood. Stage alone wasn’t everything. Skills could turn the tide, just as his own devouring had given him the means to acquire multiple skills and overpower foes who should have crushed him.

A slow breath escaped him. "So even a Knight Four could defeat a Knight Five... if he had enough skills."

"Exactly," Liraeth said with a faint smile. "You’ve seen that truth yourself."

Lumberling nodded, his chest tightening, not from fear this time, but from the weight of possibility