Chapter 310: Chapter 63: Legend! Legend! (Finale)

Her usually lively black eyes were now shining with incredible brightness, fixed on the dark blue figure on the stage. It was as if she wanted to sear the moment, and the resounding title that came with it, into her very soul.

The Royal Family Maid beside her gently tugged her sleeve. Only then did she seem to snap out of a dream and sit back down, her cheeks already flushed with excitement.

Aurora remained seated upright, her hands, which rested on her lap, slowly clasping together.

When the title "Thunder Sword" echoed throughout the square, the corners of her lips curled upward into a faint yet distinct smile.

The tranquility in her azure eyes transformed into profound pride and tenderness. She gazed intently at the person on the stage she knew best. It was as if this earth-shaking glory and clamor were all within her expectations, and she was simply here, quietly sharing in the splendor that belonged to him.

The Ironspine Duke calmly watched the feverish scene, a meaningful smile playing on his lips.

The Valkendu Metropolitan Bishop watched Murphy with his ice-blue eyes. Deep within that cold gaze, a flicker of acknowledgment for pure power passed.

Surrounded by a tsunami of sound and countless fervent gazes, Murphy slowly walked to the front and center of the ceremonial platform.

He did not kneel on one knee as the others had. Instead, he gave a slight bow, placing his right hand over his heart on his left breast in a simple yet solemn gesture.

Saint Cyril Bishop solemnly placed a short sword of archaic design, inlaid with a crescent moon embracing a star, into Murphy’s hands, along with a necklace bearing a special insignia.

On the insignia, the faint pattern of an intertwined lightning bolt and sword blade was visible.

"Legendary Holy Protector, Thunder Sword Melfield," the Bishop’s voice carried an unprecedented solemnity. "May this glory and power not only guard the Path ahead of you, but may the sword and Thunder in your hand forever be a symbol that tears through darkness, judges evil, and protects order and hope."

Murphy accepted the tokens and straightened up.

His calm gaze met the Bishop’s, and then swept over all the roiling emotions both on and off the stage.

His eyes seemed to briefly sweep through the crowd, passing over the core area. For a fleeting moment, his gaze met a pair of black eyes filled with adoration, and then a pair of calm, proud azure eyes.

His voice was not loud, yet it strangely pierced through the clamor, reaching every person’s ears, steady and firm:

"My sword serves only to defend what must be defended."

When he finished speaking, he gave another slight nod, turned, and, followed by cheers like a thundering tsunami and countless gazes of reverence, slowly walked back to his spot.

The sunlight poured down without reservation, illuminating his dark blue figure, the tokens in his hand that symbolized supreme glory, and his newly crowned legendary title, "Thunder Sword," all in a blaze of light so brilliant one could not look at it directly.

...

A year had quietly passed since the bloody battle that shook the Iron Ridge Mountains and the subsequent award ceremony.

Blackstone Fortress had long since returned to its former order and majesty. The scars on its walls had been meticulously repaired, and there had been no further disturbances from the direction of Eagle’s Beak Peak. It was as if the catastrophe was nothing more than a distant nightmare.

Although the passage to the Deep Red Wilderness had not fully closed, it had shrunk to an almost imperceptible size, and the few remaining monsters posed no threat.

Inside the fortress, the familiar courtyard remained as tranquil as ever.

The fountain murmured softly, and the flowers and trees, more lush with each passing year, insulated it from the clamor of the outside world.

Inside the stone house, Murphy sat cross-legged on a thick velvet cushion in the center of a low couch, his eyes slightly closed, his breathing long and deep.

On the floor before him sat a small, open wooden box.

Inside the box was a crystal vial containing a viscous, golden-red liquid like the molten sun—the Heart of the Fierce Sun.

This was his daily ration, received from the Church Court for his status as a Legendary Holy Protector.

As a precious Legendary Potion, it played an irreplaceable role for a Legendary Knight in further tempering the body and refining Life Energy.

But this resource was exceedingly rare, a strategic reserve even for the Church Court. An ordinary Legendary Knight, without great merit and the supreme honor of being a Holy Protector, would have no chance of receiving it as a daily ration.

Murphy had only been granted this special honor and resource because of his monumental achievement of turning the tide at Blackstone Fortress.

POP!

Murphy uncorked the crystal vial.

He slowly poured the small vial of viscous, golden-red liquid into his mouth.

The moment the liquid entered his mouth and made contact with his Qi, an indescribable torrent of heat spread gently from his throat. It then transformed into countless streams of pure, warm currents, flowing steadily along established meridian pathways.

A year of repeatedly refining it had made him long familiar with this energy’s properties. He could guide and absorb it in the most efficient and stable manner, unlike the difficult process of his first time.

A faint golden shimmer appeared on the surface of his skin, but it vanished in an instant, quickly receding inwards.

The aura around him swelled slightly as the energy circulated, but it was held firmly beneath the surface of his skin.

Aurora sat quietly in a soft chair on the other side of the low couch. She held an open ledger concerning the Eastern Territory’s ore trade, but her gaze was not on the numbers. Instead, she was silently watching Murphy as he engaged in his Cultivation.

This had become one of the quiet moments she enjoyed most each day.

Today, she wore a deep green velvet house-dress with a wide, flowing skirt that covered her ankles. The cuffs and collar were trimmed with delicate silver lace.

Her thick, golden hair was loosely gathered at the back of her head, secured with a simple Pearl hairpin. A few soft strands fell gently by her ears and neck.

Sunlight danced on her fair cheeks, outlining her delicate, soft features. Her azure eyes were like a tranquil, deep sea, flowing with a gentle luster.

The year had not left its mark on her; instead, it had settled into an even more composed and elegant grace. Her profile, as she sat there quietly, was as beautiful as a classical oil painting.

Time flowed slowly.

The Energy Fluctuations around Murphy gradually calmed, finally retracting completely into his body.

He slowly exhaled a long breath. It carried with it a few extremely faint motes of golden light that promptly dissipated into the air.

He opened his eyes. A very faint golden glint seemed to flash through their profound black depths before they returned to their usual calm.

He looked at Aurora and met her smiling, azure eyes.

"Finished absorbing today’s portion?" Aurora asked, closing her ledger. Her voice was soft.

"Yes, it went smoothly." Murphy nodded and flexed his wrist. He could feel his muscles and bones brimming with a purer, more refined power, as well as stronger Mana. "The effects of the Heart of the Fierce Sun are truly remarkable. A year’s supply from the Church Court has saved me a great deal of painstaking effort."

"That’s what you deserve, Brother," Aurora said, her voice filled with a natural pride. "There aren’t many who could have accomplished what you did under such desperate circumstances."

Just as the two were about to exchange news from their territory or interesting tidbits from within the fortress, as they usually did...

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

A series of steady, yet somewhat urgent, knocks broke the tranquility of the room.

Aurora arched an eyebrow slightly; visitors were unusual at this hour.

She looked at Murphy, who gave her a slight nod.

"Come in," Murphy’s calm voice sounded.

The door was pushed open. After a moment, a tall, middle-aged officer with a resolute face walked in, clad in the fine, standard-issue Plate Armor of the Rotalia Empire.

It was Colvin, the Deputy Commander of the Iron Wall Guard, who had visited after the award ceremony and participated in some of the subsequent joint defense operations.

His face was travel-worn from a long journey, but his eyes were sharp and his expression was grave.

Upon seeing Murphy and Aurora in the room, Colvin immediately clenched his right fist and struck the Plate Armor on his left breast, performing a standard Imperial military salute. His posture was respectful, yet urgent. "Your Excellency, Thunder Sword. Madam Monte. My sincerest apologies for the intrusion."

"Deputy Commander Colvin," Murphy said, rising to his feet. His gaze fell on the other man’s face. "There’s no need for such formalities. You seem to be in a hurry. Is it an urgent matter?"

"Yes, Your Excellency." Colvin stood straight, speaking quickly. "I have come to Blackstone Fortress day and night on the Commander’s orders. There is an urgent matter that the Commander believes you must be informed of at once. He also hopes to receive your opinion, and perhaps even... your assistance."

He paused briefly, took a deep breath, and added with emphasis, "This matter concerns the Castile Kingdom’s Tower of Secret Silver. They have sent a letter through the Imperial Court to us—or more accurately, addressed specifically to you."