Ashen Dragon

Chapter 388: Chapter 311 Grace (Part 2)

One name after another was read aloud by the proclamation officer. Atop the high platform belonging to the Imperial Counts, nearly fifty people had already gathered.

Those whose names were called were ecstatic, causing their families and supporting factions to celebrate. Meanwhile, those whose names were not called were beating their chests in frustration, feeling deeply resentful.

The Half-Dragon proclamation officers cleared their throats and began reading the next list of names.

“Charlotte is appointed as Viscount.”

“Singo is appointed as Viscount.”

“Earnie Baines is appointed as Viscount.”

“…”

At the level of Viscounts, players had become more numerous, and familiar names began to appear, mostly members of major guilds or professional scattered players.

Unlike the others, Charlotte, the president of [Magic Coin], forced a smile as she stepped onto the stage.

“My Count’s position…”

Charlotte sighed silently in her heart.

The Half-Dragon proclamation officers continued to read the names on the list, summoning the people of the Empire to the altar. Eventually, the number of Viscounts expanded to over a hundred.

Positions like Count and Viscount were still too distant for ordinary commoners, while the position of Baron offered a tantalizing opportunity to cross the social strata and enter the threshold of Dragonblood Nobility.

Thus, many people held their breath, nervously praying to hear their names.

—George was one such person.

He stood in the military formation below the stage, his hand holding the spear trembling slightly, his uniform soaked with sweat.

Having experienced months of combat, he had become the sergeant of a small team. He had earned several Medals of Honor for killing enemy officers, yet he still felt uneasy.

George muttered under his breath:

“May His Majesty Cassius bless me…”

“Please, you must make me a Dragonblood Noble…”

“Jokri Leyman is appointed as Baron.”

“Brinton Landry is appointed as Baron.”

Amidst the murmur of the crowd, names continued to be read aloud, and George listened nervously.

The Half-Dragon proclamation officer’s voice echoed once again from above.

“George is appointed as Baron.”

Suddenly, an overwhelming exhilaration surged through George, nearly causing him to faint. It took him several breaths to regain his composure.

“Is this really not a dream…?”

“I… I am actually becoming a Dragonblood Noble!”

His legs were trembling as he staggered onto the high platform under the guards’ urging. When he knelt down, his eyes were already brimming with tears.

The crowd burst into an uproar, with many gasping in astonishment.

“That, that is the mark of a serf!”

“It’s him again, the one favored by the God of Fate.”

“He’s becoming a Dragonblood Noble? How enviable!”

“That is Lord George. I worked with him before! Look at him now; he’s Baron George now!”

George’s journey was considered quite legendary among the workers.

The Ministry of Propaganda had molded him into the epitome of the ‘Kingdom Dream,’ and many viewed him as a role model, while others snubbed him as just a lucky individual, feeling disdainful.

Regardless, he was about to become a Baron.

George had crossed that threshold, soon to truly step into the prestigious echelons of the Empire and become an “important figure.”

“From now on…”

“I am a Dragonblood Noble.”

In the eyes of tens of thousands of onlookers, George sobbed tears of joy and exhilaration—he had tasted the sweet success of elevating his social standing through hard work.

“Praise His Majesty Cassius…”

George prayed in a low voice.

Yes, he prayed.

In his heart, the high and mighty Majesty was nothing short of a deity, one to whom George felt immense gratitude, even worship.

In the old days of the North, as a serf, he had no hope and would have died in the cold winds, muddle-headedly.

But with Cassius’s arrival and the establishment of the Empire, he had been granted precious freedom and the chance to become a Dragonblood Noble, a figure capable of controlling his fate.

As a profound beneficiary of the Empire’s system, how could he not be grateful and devoted?

After this ennobling, even if Cassius ordered him to his death, George would not hesitate.

Everything he had was given by the Empire.

His status, honor, and even his life.

“May His Majesty be immortal, and the Empire eternal.”

When the last name was called, more than three hundred Barons appeared on the high platform. Most were brave and outstanding soldiers during the war—the very ones most envied by ordinary Empire citizens.

Because it was so close, it seemed within grasp.

This ennobling ceremony had finally ended.

Or rather, it had only just begun.

“You may begin.”

Cassius, hovering in the sky, slowly flapped his wings, looking down upon the kneeling subjects with his pale golden eyes.

“Roooar—”

With a prolonged roar, the Dragon Crystal on the Red Dragon’s chest emitted an incredibly dazzling light, illuminating the entire sky.

The intense light forced the tens of thousands of spectators to close their eyes.

In an instant, the night over the Anzeta Great Wilderness turned as bright as day.

[Imperial Grace]

Clusters of Flowing Flame descended from the sky like meteors, falling onto the bodies of the subjects on the altar.

The sky was adorned with hundreds of radiant tails, making the surrounding scene extraordinarily magnificent.

Those subjects who had previously received the Bloodline Gift felt the searing blood flowing in their veins, quietly awaiting their second life transformation.

The Ogre Archmage Ramp knelt motionless, eyes tightly shut, feeling his body being perfected.

Soon, Ramp lifted his head, flames spouting from his golden eyes, filled with intense excitement—he felt the connection to a soul.

“Master…”

Those who had never received the Dragon Vein blessing underwent a metamorphosis, screaming and roaring in agony, ascending to a higher form of life essence.

“This… this is a gift…”

“I’ve endured so many hardships, I must hold on!”

George’s thin body trembled violently as scales emerged under his skin on his back. Unable to hold back, he raised his head and roared.

“Raaah!”

His bloodshot, engorged eyes were forcibly transformed into golden vertical pupils—the most distinct feature of Dragonblood Nobility, revered as “Golden Eyes.”

Dayev, gazing up at the spectacular scene on the altar, looked particularly grim.