The sound of carriages and horse hooves echoed, raising a white banner bearing the image of a golden dragon in its center. This was the royal banner of the Narcelle family.
Dillon had changed his clothes and put on attire befitting his status. He descended the stairs calmly, his face showing deep thought.
Dillon reached the ground floor and headed towards the main room. Two servants greeted him respectfully before opening the door for him to pass.
"My Lady, I've brought what you asked for, but will this truly satisfy the Young Master?"
"Of course, it will. What swordsman refuses such a gift in this world?"
Two voices spoke from within the room.
"What's going on here?" Dillon asked in a husky voice.
"Oh, Young Master, you've arrived," Amanda greeted him with a bow.
"Oh, my dear son, have you arrived?" It was Dillon's mother, Katia Deloque.
Upon seeing his mother, his expression rapidly changed from focused to unreadable, a mix of emotions swirling within him.
"Don't worry, breathe, calm yourself." Saying this, Dillon tried to calm himself quickly.
"Good morning, Mother." With a bow, Dillon greeted his mother.
"Yes, good morning, my son. Sit, sit!"
Saying this, Dillon and his mother sat at the table, drinking tea before Katia broached a subject.
"Son, here, this is a gift for you." With an affectionate expression, she presented a small bag.
"What is this? A spatial bag?" Dillon thought.
"Mother, thank you, but what's the occasion?"
"What are you talking about? It's your birthday present, of course!"
"Birthday? Oh, right! My birthday coincides with this day." Dillon thought.
"Heh, no one remembered my birthday for the last ten years..."
Recalling this, his hands fell limply. His eyes sank into memories where loneliness was his refuge.
"Come on, son, look inside."
She tilted her head towards me, and a black lock of hair rebelled, falling to cover that yellow eye which had always been my compass. I always loved the sparkle of light in it; it seemed to hold all the world's beautiful secrets. Look at her... how could one face give me all this reassurance with just a glance?
Dillon opened the bag and reached inside. Grasping a hilt, not too big, not too small, it was just right. As soon as he pulled it out, it was revealed to be a sword. It was no ordinary sword, for as soon as Dillon saw it, his hand gripping the hilt trembled. His eyes widened slightly before his face returned to its cold state.
"Ah... Mother, could you tell me where you got this sword?"
"What, you don't like it? Do you know how difficult it was to get? I went through so much trouble!"
She looked at him with an expression filled with doubt and disappointment, thinking he didn't like the gift.
Dillon continued to stare at the sword.
"How much did you buy it for?"
"I bought it for ten thousand gold pieces! Can you believe it?! But it's for you, after all, so it doesn't matter." Katia moved her head up and down.
"Ten thousand gold... huh."
Of course, ten thousand gold for a sword would be extremely expensive, and buying it would be foolish, but not for this sword. Because if people discovered what this sword was made of, they wouldn't part with it for even a million gold pieces!
"Ah, Mother, don't worry, I really like it. Anyway, the carriages from the main house have already arrived. I'll go up to my room for a bit. Is there anything else?"
Hearing this, her expression changed slightly before she waved her hand, letting Dillon return to his room.
---
Sitting on a chair, Dillon looked at the sword with vacant eyes.
"This sword..."
A long time ago, dragons ruled the world, a period known as the Age of Dragons. The dragons didn't control the world because humans were weak; no, it was because of one dragon, the "Dragon Emperor!"
Many books mention that this dragon fought gods on equal footing. One day, a mortal human came to him, entering the dragon's lair to challenge him.
"O Dragon Emperor, I am here to request; answer me!"
"Hmm, what does a human like you wish to request?"
"I've heard you are the master of riddles. Give me a riddle, and if I solve it, you will give me what I want."
"I like your confidence. But what if you cannot solve it? What shall I gain?"
"It doesn't matter. Whatever you desire, my life or anything else."
After some back and forth, the great dragon agreed and gave him the awaited riddle.
"Brave human, you have chosen your fate with your own hands. Listen carefully, for I will repeat my words only with the echo of your screams when you fail."
"I walk without feet, and strike without hands, and weep without eyes...
I defeat impregnable castles with my patience, and shatter rocks with my silence...
Kings fear me because I steal their crowns without a fight, and the poor love me because I am their only promise...
If you grant me to another, I die. If you confine me within your heart, I kill you...
So, who am I?"
The human closed his eyes for a moment, as if sensing the weight of the words.
"Your riddle is the only truth no one escapes. It is 'Time!' The friend who promises salvation to the poor, and the enemy who steals the shine of kings' crowns. If you confine it in your heart, regret for what has passed kills me. If you grant it to another, my moment with it dies."
The answer was "Time."
A heavy silence filled the cave, and the dragon's fiery breath paused for a moment. Suddenly, the walls trembled with a deep laugh, like thunder rumbling from the earth's core. The massive dragon's head lowered until it was directly in front of the human's face, and its breath fanned the hero's face.
"It was not wrong for it to be said that wisdom can reside in fragile mortal bodies. You have hit the mark, human... Time is my prison and yours. And since you have deciphered the constraint of my words, you shall have what you asked for, but beware... for Time, whose answer you now know, shows no mercy to those who possess it!"
Saying this, the human raised his hand to scratch his chin. Sweat trickled from his hair. His pupils seemed to spin in circles. He remained silent for some time, concentrating.
Finally, the human made his decision.
"O Great Dragon, I have chosen what I desire. I want power!"
Hearing this, the dragon lowered its head, its enthusiasm fading. Its breath diminished, and its aura faded.
"You want power, then..." Looking into the distance, the dragon said.
"So be it. A promise is a promise."
Saying this, black and red light formed in the sky, colors swirling and mixing, taking on the dragon's color: black.
"Take this."
A mass of light shot towards the human, and as it approached, the light dimmed.
Holding the materialized form, the human was slightly stunned.
"What? A sword?" It was a sword.
"This is no ordinary sword. Its blade was forged from my fangs, and its hilt was embroidered with my hide. I have infused it with my power, at the cost of my life."
---
This sword was currently in Dillon's possession.
"I don't know how this sword ended up here, or who found it. The important thing is that I got it. Heheheh." His cheeks widened, forming a sinister smile.
"Knock... knock... knock..." The sound of knocking echoed from outside.
"Young Master, it's time to leave."
Hearing this, Dillon slowly got up. He left his room and went downstairs. At the exit, he was met by his mother.
"Son, you are leaving now."
"That's right, Mother. Please take care of yourself."
"That's what I should be saying to you, little one. Anyway, Dillon, listen. It doesn't matter if you win or lose, but it's important that you return safely. And also, you should know, no matter the outcome, I know you did your best."
The selection of the Five Young Lords begins at the age of twelve. Only three are chosen, but this time there was an exception. Because Dillon was only eleven years old, but thanks to his talent, the head of the family, his father, decided to let him participate early.
"Oh, and also, I looked for your trainer, but I haven't found any information about him since he left."
"Huh? My teacher?"
Dillon had already forgotten him. Because in his previous life, he started sword training at the age of six, which is five years from now. But the only thing Dillon remembered about his teacher was that one day, he left suddenly without saying goodbye to anyone.
"Young Master, it is time to depart." A soldier bowed. Although he spoke respectfully, his gaze held arrogance and disdain.
"Huh? How can a lowly person like him show such an expression in front of me?"
If the two were alone now, Dillon would have already cut off his head.
Ignoring the matter, Dillon finished saying goodbye to his mother and headed towards the carriage. He entered the carriage and sat in his seat, lost in thought.
"The time has come..."
He paused for a moment before the corners of his mouth stretched slightly.
"My new beginning... is coming!"
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