Ashen Dragon

Chapter 233: Chapter 159: Newborn (Part 1)

“Anthony, don’t dawdle. This is your first audience with His Majesty. Make sure to seize this rare opportunity and leave a good impression on him.”

“Ah, I apologize, Lord Frederick.”

The boy called “Anthony” looked somewhat flustered and hurried to catch up with the group.

He appeared to be around fourteen or fifteen years old, with a rather delicate face. His slightly thin figure was clad in plain clothes.

Just now, Anthony had been gazing up at the grand palace gates, tens of meters high, and only came to his senses when Frederick personally reminded him.

“No matter what, remember well the etiquette I taught you.”

He paused for a moment.

“Also, His Majesty appreciates bravery. Just don’t faint in the grand hall.”

Frederick’s eyes were clearly fixed on Anthony, making him break out in a cold sweat.

Anthony nodded quickly in response, then silently walked along the road. He couldn’t contain the anticipation and nervousness welling up in him, and his heart pounded hard.

It was a full kilometer from the palace gates to the main hall. In training, this distance was nothing more than a trivial punishment, but to Anthony, it felt interminable, like he would never reach the end. He couldn’t help but recall his own tragic past experiences leading up to his time joining the Hall of Dragon Oath.

From the dark, narrow, filthy basement to the splendid, magnificent palace of the present.

The dragon carvings on the door were lifelike, full of majesty, as if scrutinizing every visitor.

The doors opened slowly, emitting a heavy sound.

“It’s… unbelievable.”

Anthony couldn’t help thinking this.

The wyverns stationed on the stone pillars on either side of the road raised their heads in unison, letting out loud hisses, which made him even more anxious about soon meeting His Majesty the King.

After all, this magnificent palace already surpassed the imagination of the impoverished Anthony. What kind of imposing presence would the legendary “Infernal Calamity” and “King of Ashen,” the Dragon Lord who single-handedly destroyed tens of thousands of troops, possess? Though he had observed from a distance before, he had never been so close, let alone had an audience.

The remaining eleven boys were of similar age, their youthful faces still showing barely concealed nervousness and awe—together with Anthony, the twelve of them were the first batch of “Dragonsworn Holy Warrior” candidates selected by Frederick.

They mostly came from innocent backgrounds and had received the kingdom’s grace. After rounds of selection and tough training, they were now being brought before the Red Dragon to receive his blessings. As a former Black Lion Knight, Frederick was adept at this kind of work.

Walking along the broad road, Frederick turned his head and gave a low directive:

“Ah…”

The vast difference made Anthony feel as if he were dreaming a grand, tumultuous dream, but he knew he couldn’t have imagined such a scene.

Anthony’s father was an ordinary peasant, or more precisely, a “serf” bound to the manor, one of hundreds under Baron Soli’s rule.

His father was fortunate enough to find a wife, which allowed him to be born in the stables. Anthony originally didn’t have a name, just a nickname that meant “grain.”

According to the normal trajectory of life, he too would become the lowest of serfs, rushing through life in toil and hunger—just like his grandfather, who starved to death early at the age of thirty.

However, as Anthony grew up, the steward managing the manor was astonished to find that he did not look like an ordinary “gray beast,” gaunt with hunger and filth, but instead showed a rather delicate appearance.

Thus, for the cost of three bags of beans, the steward bought him from his father.

According to that steward, Anthony was to “go to the city and enjoy the company of the noble lords.” Whether it was for the precious grain, a true hope for a better life for his son, or perhaps there was no option to refuse, his father gladly accepted. At that time, he was only eight years old.

The steward had him sent by carriage to the bustling Northwind Castle, to the luxurious Baron’s Mansion.

The young Anthony couldn’t understand what it all meant.

Thus, the nightmare began.@@novelbin@@

Baron Soli cordially welcomed Anthony and then took him to the basement, where darkness was everywhere.

This was the beginning.

At last, the Baron shed his genteel noble mask, revealing his devilish nature.

Anthony was confined in a dark, damp basement, daily praying for the guards of the Baron’s Mansion to throw him some leftovers. He always yearned for freedom, to escape from this hellish suffering, but it never came true.

He often hoped that the “deity” in the manor church would save him, but there was never any divine response. After all, the deity who protected a devil like Baron Soli would hardly answer the pleas of a victim like him.

Baron Soli often wore a clean white clerical robe and chatted merrily with the church’s priests, yet the deity never descended any punishment.

This situation continued from when Anthony was eight until he turned thirteen.

Gradually, Anthony grew numb, even used to such a life.

Until that day—the ground shook fiercely, and even he, confined to the basement, could hear the sounds of cannon fire.

Finally, he was rescued from the basement by the Tiefling army of the Ashen Kingdom. In Anthony’s eyes, despite their devil-like appearance, they were far better than the baron with a genteel facade and a devil within.

Seeing the sunlight for the first time in five years, he was unaccustomed to it and had to shield his eyes with his hand, but the view through his fingers was something he would never forget—a colossal Red Dragon standing on the city wall, extending its wide wings as if to cover the sky.

The dragon slightly raised its head and let out a deafening roar that echoed through the clouds. The sound was like a death knell for the old order and a beginning for a new one.

That scene was deeply etched in his mind, like a divine miracle.

It gave him a new life.

Later, as someone without any identity or status in the city, he was personally selected by Frederick from the Hall of Dragon Oath to become a Dragonsworn Holy Warrior candidate. Frederick even named him “Anthony,” meaning “Brave One.”

Frederick bluntly told them that the great Red Dragon had changed their destiny, that the old order of the Northern Nobility had no place for them, and that their only option was to join the new order of the Ashen Kingdom, gain the power of the Oath of the Dragon, and become part of the grand scheme.

For the first time in his life, when Anthony ate white bread, he swallowed the food with determination in his eyes.

Thus, after enduring rigorous training and passing numerous stringent selections, he finally arrived at the Royal Palace, about to become a Dragonsworn Holy Warrior of ultimate glory and boundless strength.