CHAPTER 333: CHAPTER 332: THE MARTIAL DUKE

"What do those characters mean?" Lumberling asked the captain, pointing toward the banners.

The captain followed his gaze and smiled with a touch of pride. "Those symbols represent strength, balance, and heaven. They are the Duke’s teachings, his way of reminding us what to strive for."

Lumberling narrowed his eyes slightly. "I don’t remember the empire using unique letters like that."

The captain chuckled softly. "It’s a language the Duke invented himself. Aside from those who live here, no one else can read it."

Lumberling’s gaze lingered on the banners, the black symbols swaying in the wind. A faint smile tugged at his lips as his thoughts deepened.

’Well...’ he mused, ’that confirms it. The Duke isn’t from this world.’

Soon, the group arrived at the towering red pavilion standing proudly at the center of the city. A faint scent of incense drifted through the air, calm and soothing.

Inside, a tall man clad in full gray armor awaited them. His face was hidden beneath a closed helm, and the faint hum of aura surrounded him.

"This is the Duke’s personal Knight, Sir Corven," the guard captain introduced, bowing slightly. "He will be escorting you to meet the Duke."

After saying that, the captain gave one last respectful nod before turning to leave, looking relieved to escape the pressure that lingered between them.

’Knight Corven, huh?’ Lumberling studied him closely. ’A Knight Three... I didn’t expect to see someone this strong here. I thought the Duke’s people only practiced martial arts.’

Corven’s head tilted slightly, it seemed he was assessing them as well. Lumberling could feel his gaze pause on each of them, measuring their strength. A silent exchange of awareness passed between them, one warrior recognizing another.

"Take me to the Duke," Lumberling said with his tone clipped and authoritative.

Corven didn’t respond. Without a word, he turned and began walking toward a spiraling staircase that wound up the pavilion’s center.

They followed him in silence. As they climbed, Lumberling’s eyes scanned the surroundings.

The soldiers stationed along the hallways stood straight and still, each wearing loose, sleeveless robes instead of armor. Their movements were silent, their breathing controlled.

’Martial artists,’ Lumberling realized. He could sense the flow of Qi in them. ’For someone who does not practice martial arts, it might be hard to sense them. But these ones... they’re different from the soldiers outside, they are strong.’

He frowned slightly. No matter how hard he focused, he couldn’t see through their strength. His own martial cultivation hadn’t reached the first stage yet, and without truly stepping onto the martial path, their depths remained hidden to him.

’This place really is unlike the rest of the empire,’ he thought as they continued their quiet ascent toward the Duke’s office at the top floor.

They soon reached the highest floor after a long climb. The air inside grew quieter and heavier the higher they went, carrying a faint scent of incense and old wood.

At the end of the hallway stood a tall double door made of polished oak, its surface carved with the same flowing symbols they’d seen on the banners outside. Knight Corven stopped in front of it and gave a knock.

"Duke Hadric, you have visitors from the Iron Legions," he announced in a steady voice.

A deep, commanding tone answered from within. "Come in."

Corven pushed the doors open, and they stepped inside.

The office was wide, its floor polished smooth like stone. Scrolls and old books lined the walls, and behind a massive desk sat a man whose presence filled the room without him saying a word.

Duke Hadric Stonepalm, he looked to be in his forties, with long dark hair that brushed his shoulders and sharp eyes that carried both wisdom and warning. His frame was solid, built from years of battle rather than luxury. When he looked up, his gaze was calm but heavy, the kind that weighed a person’s worth in a glance.

Lumberling met his eyes without flinching.

Without saying a word, Lumberling quietly activated his Luck Analyze. A faint shimmer of light flickered in his vision, tracing a soft outline around the Duke. He watched closely, his brow furrowing.

’Strange... it’s not like Kairo’s or Lucian’s,’ he thought. ’It’s far above average, but not bright enough to be one of those children of luck. Isn’t he supposed to be from another world like me?’

He studied the Duke a little longer, still puzzled by what he saw.

The Duke leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze steady. "Who are you people?" he asked, his deep voice carrying both authority and curiosity.

"As you already heard, we’re from the Iron Legion," Lumberling said evenly, meeting his gaze with a calm, confident tone.

The Duke’s brows furrowed. "I don’t recall seeing anyone like you among their ranks."

Lumberling tilted his head slightly, meeting the Duke’s eyes.

"Do you know every officer personally, Duke Hadric? Every man the emperor appoints?" His words came sharp but composed.

"From what I’ve heard, you prefer to stay within your duchy’s walls. So tell me, how can you be so sure I’m not from the Iron Legion?"

The room grew quiet. Even the air felt still. The Duke’s fingers stopped tapping on the desk as their eyes locked, neither backing down.

Then, after a moment, the Duke’s stern look softened. A faint smile touched his lips, breaking the tension.

"So, you’re from the Iron Legion, my apologies for not recognizing you sooner."

"That’s what I’ve told you," Lumberling replied with a small snort, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

The Duke let out a low, easy chuckle and leaned back in his chair. "You can’t blame me for being cautious," he said. "These days, all sorts of people come wandering into my city."

He folded his hands atop the desk, his voice returning to a more businesslike tone. "Now then, Sir Knight of the Iron Legion, how may I be of service? What brings you to Stonehaven?"