A Dragonslayer's Peerless Regression - Chapter 238

Chapter 238

“Black Knight?”

At Ramon’s words, murmurs spread throughout the assembly hall.

Cali, too, stared at him in disbelief.

Ramon turned to face Arthur Draker, the Head of House Draker, and said,

“If Abel Draker’s promotion to Black Knight is verified, he would become the youngest Black Knight in the continent’s history. It would not only elevate the honor of House Draker but also mean another Black Knight now serves within our ranks. It’s a remarkable achievement—especially considering that ever since Duke Draker lost his status after a failed mission, we haven’t seen another Black Knight emerge in over a decade.”

At the mention of Duke Draker, a few of the elders coughed uncomfortably.

Those who reacted were the ones who had participated—directly or indirectly—in Duke Draker’s tribunal. Ramon’s casual reference to that long-buried disgrace unsettled them.

Arthur Draker nodded solemnly.

“As Sir Ramon said, if Abel Draker truly has attained the rank of Black Knight, he is more than qualified to assume the title of Guardian Knight.”

At that moment, Arthur’s gaze sharpened.

An invisible force radiated from his body. The very air in the assembly hall seemed to grow heavier.

Cali suddenly realized: Arthur Draker’s “Astral Sword” was now targeting the entire chamber.

“It’s hard to even breathe…”

With the power of a true Black Knight, Arthur could end the lives of everyone in the hall in a single instant if he so willed.

Arthur addressed Ramon again.

“But if it turns out he’s merely impersonating a Black Knight, he must pay the price accordingly.”

Invisible sparks flew between the two men.

Watching Arthur’s firm stance, Cali came to a realization.

“Father is playing a high-stakes game.”

Using Abel’s alleged promotion to Black Knight as a pretext, Arthur had forced the reclusive Ramon Siemens out into the open.

If Abel’s promotion proved to be a fraud, Arthur would use it to completely cut off Ramon from acting behind the scenes.

“But if Abel truly has been promoted to Black Knight, then the Draker family stands only to gain. My father’s stratagem runs deeper than I can fathom…”

Just then, news arrived that the preparations for the appointment ceremony were complete.

Arthur withdrew the force of the Astral Sword and smiled affably.

“Well then, let’s go. I’m quite curious to see if a new Black Knight is truly about to be born.”

—

—

The Hall of Atemfel had been magnificently decorated for the appointment of the new Guardian Knight.

Inside, not only the leaders and vice-captains of major knight orders had gathered, but key figures from across the allied bloodlines as well.

House Draker stood at the heart of the central continent’s power.

So naturally, the appointment of a Guardian Knight—one of the pillars of that power—was an event that drew attention from every allied family and kingdom.

“Boom!”

The doors swung open, and Arthur Draker entered, followed by the Grand Assembly members.

The true powerbrokers of House Draker were now all assembled in one place.

Cali took her seat near the dais reserved for the Guardian Knight and scanned the elaborately adorned hall.

If it turned out Abel Draker had not, in fact, been promoted to Black Knight, it wouldn’t just be a public humiliation—it would tarnish both his honor and the reputation of House Siemens.

“But if Abel really has become a Black Knight…?”

By all reason, Cali couldn’t believe it.

She and Abel, both pure-blood Awakened of the Draker lineage, had rapidly ascended to Blue Knight status, then advanced to Red Knight. But the Black Knight—”that” was on an entirely different level.

Even among knights who had staked their lives on the sword, most never breached the threshold of Black Knight in their entire lifetimes.

The fastest known rise to Black Knight status in history belonged to Arthur Draker himself—and even he didn’t achieve it until after his fortieth year.

For Abel, now only in his thirties, to already have reached that rank would be an unprecedented feat in the history of the continent.

And then—

“Boom!”

The doors of the Atemfel Hall opened again, and a man stepped inside.

Wearing the formal regalia of House Draker, with fiery red hair flowing behind him, strode “Abel Draker”, known as the “Lionblade”.

He walked confidently down the hall, approaching the Dragon Throne where Arthur Draker sat.

Forged from dragon bone and hide, the Dragon Throne was a symbol of House Draker’s legacy as “Dragonslayers”.

Arthur, seated upon the throne, greeted Abel with a level gaze.

Abel bowed his head respectfully.

“To the Head of House Draker, Lord of Atlas—the heart of Midland—and Dragonslayer, Knight of Knights…”

Arthur raised his hand and cut him off.

“That’s enough. On any other day I might have welcomed such formalities, but today, that’s not what matters.”

Arthur Draker rose from his seat.

Then, turning to address the entire hall, he spoke in a voice that echoed through the grand chamber.

“I’m sure many of you are curious about today’s sudden appointment of a new Guardian Knight!”

The audience focused intently on his words.

Arthur continued.

“The Guardian Knight is a title bestowed upon the knight who represents House Draker. As such, the qualification process has always been rigorous, based on thorough examination and the collective judgment of wise men. However—”

His voice rose in volume and intensity.

“The Abel Draker standing before me! If he has truly been promoted to Black Knight, then he is more than qualified to bypass all formalities and claim the title of Guardian Knight!”

Gasps of disbelief echoed throughout the hall at Arthur Draker’s declaration.

“B-Black Knight?!”

“Heavens… The Lionblade, truly?”

As the commotion grew louder, Arthur clapped his hands.

The sharp clap rang through the hall, quickly restoring order.

Arthur turned to Abel.

“Abel Draker. Can you prove here and now that you are indeed a true Black Knight?”

Abel met his gaze, and after a brief moment, nodded firmly.

“I will obey your command, my lord.”

Abel turned away from the Dragon Throne and faced the assembly.

Then, he pointed to one of the gathered knights.

“I would like to make a request to the Commander of the Dragon-Hunting Unit.”

“Commander Dritan Turn”, upon being called, rose from his seat.

True to his reputation as a knight of House Turn, he was physically imposing—larger than most knights.

With fierce eyes and a face lined with scars that twitched with tension, Dritan glared at Abel.

“What is your request?”

Abel grinned and replied,

“I’ve long wished to cross swords with you. Would you grant me that chance today?”

Dritan’s brow twitched slightly.

Though Abel had spoken respectfully, it was clear he was asking Dritan to serve as a test—proof of his qualifications.

Silently, Dritan stood.

“Boom!”

Th𝐢𝖘 𝓬h𝑎p𝑡𝙚r 𝗶𝑠 p0𝕤ţ𝖾đ b𝖞 Ҡ𝒾𝕥ɛ𝙣◎ⱽ𝖾𝓁

As he moved, it felt like the entire hall trembled.

Dritan Turn was well known for both his strength and integrity, even among the knights of House Turn.

He was also a Red Knight under House Draker. Many said that if he had taken on the Draker name, he would be equal in stature to “Gareth Draker”, the current Guardian Knight.

Instead, Dritan had chosen to remain loyal to his lineage, holding the position of Dragon-Hunting Commander for the past ten years—a title passed down through House Turn.

Given Dritan’s nature, he was not the type to go easy, even on Abel.

He unsheathed the massive sword from his back.

“Whooom!”

More like a steel club than a blade, it was an enormous and rugged greatsword.

Dritan looked at Abel and said,

“The Lionblade has made his request. I will respond in earnest.”

Abel smirked and drew his “Crimson Dragon Sword”.

In the center of the Atemfel Hall, the two knights faced each other, blades at the ready.

The first to move was Dritan.

“Whoosh!”

Using the Turn-style Dragonslaying Technique, Dritan’s attack was sharp and direct.

Though the greatsword looked heavy and unwieldy, he wielded it with precision, delivering a flurry of short, fierce strikes at Abel.

“Clang! Clang!”

Abel parried each blow with swift sweeps of the Crimson Dragon Sword.

Dritan could tell from the weight of Abel’s blade that he wasn’t dealing with an ordinary swordsman.

He adjusted his grip and lunged forward.

“Whoom!”

The greatsword came in low, aiming for Abel’s waist.

The swing was clean and tight—almost unbelievably so for such a massive weapon.

“Whisssh!”

Then, in a sudden burst of motion, Abel leapt into the air and landed atop the greatsword itself.

Gasps rang out across the hall.

The spectators—many of them knights themselves—knew just how powerful and refined Dritan’s technique was. For Abel to not only counter it but literally step onto the sword mid-attack? It defied belief.

Still standing on the greatsword, Abel launched himself forward, swinging the Crimson Dragon Sword down toward Dritan.

“Whoosh!”

Dritan quickly swung his own blade, knocking Abel off and rolling away to evade the strike.

“Hoo…”

He rolled to his feet and raised the greatsword again, resuming his stance.

Abel, standing across from him, looked completely composed, eyes calm and confident.

He spoke to Dritan.

“I want to see the true strength of the Dragon-Hunting Commander.”

Dritan’s brow furrowed at the provocation.

He repositioned himself and assumed the standard form of the Turn-style Dragonslaying Technique.

Blunt and stubborn by nature, Dritan always adhered to the fundamentals.

“Rex Turunn”—likely a senior figure in the Turunn family—often praised this as Dritan’s greatest strength.

Watching him now, Abel gave a cold, subtle smile.

“So that’s how you want to play it?”

“Rumble…”

A strange energy, distinct from aura, erupted from Abel’s body.

Everyone in the hall felt it—like thousands of needles pricking at their skin, a stinging and electric sensation.

Standing directly in the path of this energy, “Dritan” held his sword firmly, but his entire body was being crushed by the immense, formless pressure.

“This energy… it’s just like…”

Though he didn’t want to admit it, the overwhelming force was identical to what he had once felt from “Rex Turunn” when he unleashed the full power of a “Black Knight”.

Abel slowly advanced toward Dritan, the “Crimson Dragon Sword” in hand.

Any ordinary knight would have collapsed under such pressure. But Dritan was no ordinary knight.

Instead, he cast aside the pressure, raised his sword, and stepped forward.

“Haaah!”

Letting out a fierce shout, Dritan unleashed a signature technique of House Turunn.

“Whooosh!”

Like a charging bull, his massive greatsword, filled with the force to cleave through anything in its path, came crashing down toward Abel’s head.

“Screeeeech!”

A piercing sound rang through the hall, making everyone flinch.

“What—what was that?!”

In the instant everyone turned toward the sound, Abel had already passed by Dritan.

In that same moment, Dritan’s massive greatsword was cleaved apart, and blood erupted from the cuts now blooming across his body.

“Thud!”

Dritan collapsed to the floor.

“Commander!”

The Dragon-Hunting Unit rushed forward, examining Dritan’s wounds before carrying him out of the hall.

For the commander—known for never falling—to be felled in a single stroke without even reacting, left the entire assembly in stunned silence.

Abel sheathed the Crimson Dragon Sword, then turned to face “Arthur”, seated on the “Dragon Throne”.

Arthur, however, said nothing. He sat rigid, his expression unreadable.

Abel slowly approached the throne, then spoke clearly:

“Though my skill is still lacking, I will do my utmost to bring no dishonor to the title of Guardian Knight.”

Before Arthur could even officially acknowledge the promotion, Abel had preemptively declared it himself.

Arthur rose from the throne and turned to address the hall.

“House Draker has now produced its sixth Black Knight!”

Gasps rippled through the room.

Arthur Draker’s public recognition of Abel’s power as reaching the realm of the Black Knights was tantamount to official certification across the entire continent.

Arthur continued:

“To “Abel Draker”, sixth Black Knight of House Draker, I hereby bestow the rank above Guardian Knight and appoint him accordingly.”

He personally pinned a golden insignia to Abel’s ceremonial uniform.

“Clap! Clap!”

“Ramon”, seated nearby, was the first to applaud.

Then, one by one, others followed—until the entire hall erupted with thunderous applause and cheers.

Abel smiled and waved to the crowd.

But amidst the roaring celebration, “Cali’s” eyes wavered—uncertain and filled with anxiety as she watched him.