Chapter 87: Promise
"The... Eternal Swordsmanship?!"
Lucia's internal processors violently locked onto the phrase, an un-namable, crushing vortex of astonishment, shock, and absolute historical absurdity welling up from the deepest basements of his consciousness.
Armed with his extensive library of future meta-knowledge, his intellect recognized the exact parameters of the fallen "civilization" the Carian champion clutched within his vocabulary. Moongrum wasn't referencing the twin subterranean nodes of Nokron and Nokstella constructed down the depths of the Siofra and Ainsel river basins; his lips were isolating the ancient, forgotten cradle of the race—the Nameless Eternal City buried directly beneath the stone foundations of the Royal Capital Leyndell itself.
Across the centuries that had bled off the clock since the initial rise of the Carian Royal House, the Ancient Dragon Dynasty had remained their most steadfast, structurally reliable ally on the geopolitical board. Fused with the immense, near-immortal lifespans characterizing the dragon race, ancient observers like Pastor Miriel had personally witnessed Caria's primitive expansion and modern prosperity from the absolute opening of the era. Consequently, while the broader draconic ministries lacked the specific micro-data regarding why the high Carian aristocracy claimed the sovereign title of Descendants of Eternity, their high tables had long preserved an awareness of the lineage.
Months prior, while systematically mining the continental history scrolls clutched within the restricted vaults of the Farum Azula Grand Library, Lucia had expended a massive percentage of his schedule to meticulously analyze the historical files governing this specific subject.
Inside his personal strategic ledger, the modern people of Caria and the ancient, star-worshipping Nox civilization—which had been cataclysmically broken and buried by the Greater Will across the primeval eras—shared an almost identical genetic and cultural architecture. They commanded the duplicate fanatical faith in the movements of the Stars and the Moon, utilized the duplicate high-density celestial sorcery framework, and projected the duplicate intellectual tolerance when integrating alternate cultures across their borders.
The Great Library of the Sky Temple still preserved a sequence of fragmented, heavily censored historical codices tracking the dawn of the Age of Stars and the operational blueprints of the pristine Eternal Cities. Although every single line of data detailing the primary source code behind their civilizational destruction and the explicit logistics of the Forbidden War had been systematically omitted from the state records, an operator could still parse those fading sheets to harvest a glimpse of the proud, magnificent grandeur that had defined that fallen macrocosm.
Evaluating their theological baseline, their constitutional laws, their architectural geometry, and their traditional courtly garments, it was entry-level mathematics to calculate that the ancient, inclusive Nox state shared a hundred percent symmetry with the modern infrastructure of Liurnia.
And those surviving Nox enclaves who remained locked deep within the subterranean dark to this exact watch, staring up at the artificial brilliance of a false starlight sky, alongside the high-velocity development of Sellia, Town of Sorcery center-lined within the red wastes of Caelid... every indicator proved that the Carian bloodline clutched an intricate, blood-drenched connection to the former Eternal City. The term Descendant comprised the single most logical, scientifically consistent translation for the board.
What had violently fractured Lucia's expectations, however, was the revelation that this ancient civilization—which his memories had permanently cataloged as an empire famous strictly for its cosmic sorcery and silver alchemical mimicry—had concurrently functioned as the single largest research matrix for advanced swordsmanship across the ancient world, systematically synthesizing the martial styles of dozens of human and non-human races across the Lands Between to forge a ultimate combat system that operated like all rivers emptying their currents into a single sovereign sea.
"Your Royal Highness, Prince Luciassax—"
The sharp, disciplined baritone of the Moongrum knight violently dragged Lucia's consciousness back into the room, clearing the chaotic loops of data from his mind. He lifted his silver eyelashes to audit the paladin's features. For the absolute first time since their initial crossing of indicators at the Lift, the First Carian Knight had completely discarded his relaxed, courtly smirk; his weathered, battlefield-tested face broadcast an unprecedented, terrifying solemnity.
"I petition Your Highness to overlook the informality of my mouth addressing your shield by the full length of your sovereign title," the knight spoke, his silver helm delivering a minor courtly incline. "Given the qualitative breadth of Your Highness's historical education, your intellect must comprehend a fraction of the hidden variables anchoring the ancient Eternal City... and your mind must accurately measure the immense physical weight of the legacy my office prepares to drop into your inventory."
"Standing as the Chief First Knight representing the Carian Crown, hand-delivering these restricted files to the direct heir of the Ancient Dragon Dynasty signifies an enterprise vastly more critical than merely bestowing a master-tier sword style across your gauntlet. It signals that Caria has officially, un-reservedly shared one of our dynasty's most precious, deadliest state secrets with the vanguard of Farum Azula."
A sudden, sharp gale swept across the boundless lake of the reflection domain, rustling the silver threads of Lucia's traveling cloak. The resonant, un-yielding syllables exiting Moongrum's teeth continued to vibrate within his ears. Facing this de facto military director of the Carian Dynasty, an unprecedented, crushing sense of historical gravity dropped directly onto his young shoulders.
That heavy sense of generational responsibility, that inescapable mission blueprint, and that lingering, cold paranoia regarding the future rise, fall, and absolute structural liquidation of the empires his name was conformed to sustain... it completely out-registered the watches he had spent camping outside the Kaelen trenches; it completely out-scoped the twilight watch when his hand and Clavell's palm had locked their contract; it even overrode the memory of the afternoon his visors had audited the grand Sword Monument outside the capital gates while standing beside Sovereign Sister Lansseax.
He remained completely silent across a vast watch, his boots anchored to the shifting pebbles before his jaw parted. "Identify the return ledger. What specific compensation asset class does Your Excellency require from my person—or more accurately calculated: from the state treasury of the Ancient Dragon Dynasty?"
"My office commands zero requirement targeting the resources of the Ancient Dragon Dynasty, Prince; all my steel demands comprises strictly Your Highness's personal, un-fused promise," the Moongrum knight answered.
Catching the flash of genuine doubt mapping Lucia's facial symmetry, the Carian paladin drew a deep, chest-expanding breath of the domain air, his expression settling into the un-yielding density of a granite crag that had braved the storms of a thousand winters. "My soul demands that Your Royal Highness preserves a permanent, un-blinking memory of the absolute sincerity Caria has hand-delivered to your table this winter—if the wheel of time turns to a watch where those three children find their lines caught within the exact same existential, suffocating bottleneck that gripped Princess Malenia's biology yesterday, or even a configuration vastly more lethal for their survival... I demand an absolute vow that Your Highness's steel will clear its leather to defend their lives."
At this exact juncture of the watch, the hyper-disciplined, meticulously courteous Knight Moongrum completely deleted the court titles of Prince and Princess when referencing the three Carian heirs he had personally raised from their cradles. Exactly as his vocabulary had stated to Lucia's ear, his house had abandoned every parameter of bureaucratic courtcraft, presenting an absolute, un-fused alignment of total goodwill and personal sincerity across the floorboards.
"Does Lord Moongrum's strategic plan omit maintaining a personal presence beside their saddles inside the capital over the coming winters?" Lucia asked suddenly, his tracking network isolating a hidden variable behind the paladin's words.
"Her Majesty Queen Marika did indeed extend a formal executive offer commanding my shield to assume the Supreme Chancellorship of the Royal Private School... but my pen signed a flat administrative refusal across the ledger," the Moongrum knight replied with absolute, un-varnished candor.
"The decision does not emerge from a localized court grudge targeting the identity of His Majesty Radagon, nor does my center preserve an un-governed prejudice or political resentment directed at the ministries of the Golden Dynasty. It is a simpler calculus, prince: my steel has maintained its station away from our home soil for too vast a season of the clock. The watch has struck for my boots to return to the library lift."
Lucia maintained a silent, un-blinking watch over the man standing before his eyes, his processors attempting to mine the absolute depth of the emotions woven beneath that weathered skin and those graying, distinguished temples.
Yet, a briefwatch later, he simply desisted from further diagnostic scans, his head executing a slow, absolute nod of acceptance. "My system validates the ledger. I promise you."
"This directive is hand-delivered from my own soul—the legitimate Successor of Farum Azula, the Ancient Dragon Empyrean. The vow Luciassax deposits into the custody of the Chief Carian Knight, Moongrum, comprises a non-negotiable state contract. My signature is as permanent as the spires of Farum Azula hanging high within the ancient heavens—it remains absolute across every watch of the clock, and under every environmental parameter simulated by the future."
Hearing the un-bracketed formula of the oath, the Moongrum knight's chest plates dropped a fraction of an inch, a profound, completely relieved smile finally breaking through his weathered features.
"Superb. In that event, Prince... receive the payload clutched within my gift."
He executed a fluid stride forward, his silver-plated index and middle fingers clearing the moonlight to drop their weight directly onto the center of Lucia's forehead.
Inside the parameters of Moongrum's private Starlight Magic Domain, every single factor of physics—including the mental readouts of the twin spiritual phantoms—was completely governed by the operational frequency of his mana. Although the domain lacked the absolute, law-overriding progression power clutched by Lucia's Memory Battlefield, executing a pure knowledge-transfer file at this close proximity was an enterprise that required nothing more than a literal lifting of his finger.
A colossal, terrifyingly dense volume of highly complex martial knowledge violently flooded into Lucia's cognitive channels like a localized river bursting its banks. Utilizing the automated indexing systems of his Memory Battlefield, this roaring torrent of data was systematically analyzed, broken down into its core components, compiled into pristine files, and archived inside his active inventory at maximum processing velocity. Exactly like the master tracks of the Storm Swordsmanship clutched within his Dragon Bloodline Inheritances, the entire database was permanently recorded, enabling his muscle memory to access, reference, and drill the forms at any watch down his future timeline.
Roughly fifteen minutes bled off the clock before the Moongrum knight retracted the flow of active mana from his fingertips, his gauntlet dropping back to his side as Lucia's silver eyelashes slowly lifted. Millions of ethereal, shifting starlight phantoms practicing the complex matrices of the Eternal Swordsmanship were still violently flashing across his optical centers, his subconscious processors having already independently initiated a sequence of calculations to evaluate how to fuse the Eternal style's deflection templates directly into the vacuum tracks of his Storm Swordsmanship.
"Your Highness's tactical engine has likely already isolated the core deviation: my personal iteration of the Eternal Swordsmanship alters several parameters from the primitive version logged within the subterranean ruins. My hand has systematically integrated a massive library of advanced blade techniques and physical combat skills that emerged across the continent long after the ancient era closed—yet the three foundational sword styles my lips disclosed remain the absolute pillars of the matrix," the Moongrum knight advised, his voice smooth as his armor settled back into a resting state.
"My office has hand-delivered the rudiments of this exact swordsmanship to the hands of my two eldest boys, Radahn and Rykard. However, at their current developmental tier, their muscle memory commands strictly the foundational baselines of the Carian Blade Arts; the tactical combinations their steel can actively execute are rigidly restricted within those parameters. If Your Royal Highness records an open window down your future schedule, your vanguard should leverage their proximity—learn from the strengths clutched within their styles, supply the counter-data to mend their mechanical deficits, and drill the steel jointly across the training squares."
"My house extends its deepest, highest ratification to Your Excellency," Lucia spoke, his torso bending to execute a profound, un-broken bow of absolute military respect toward the Carian marshal.
"The ledger is finalized; let us clear the domain to return to the floor boards. I calculate the young princes are likely turning over our absence with immense impatience," the Moongrum knight smiled. His left hand executed a casual wave through the air, completely dissolving the structural parameters of the Starlight Domain.
The silver moon, the boundless lake, and the emerald fields shattered into empty starlight particles within a microsecond, the physical senses of both operators snapping instantly back to track the material reality of the capital salon.
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