Dihara Eating Watermelon
After the Death Midnight, Dacus returned to the forest farm and continued to practice martial arts and conduct social research every day.
Walter stayed in Clarkalond. He had to deal with family affairs, but there was nothing to deal with. His sister, sister-in-law, nephews and nieces were all cleaned up by Dacus.
The days passed one by one, spring came, the Black Ark Nagor left, Furlan Baler was about to meet his fate, and Dacuus was also turning 17. He had to return to Clar Kalond because Haniel Hara was about to take place.
In the hall of the Night Warden's Castle, the dignitaries were communicating in whispers or silently. Newker stood beside the throne with the noble curved sword in his hand. Annasara, the Night Warden of Clarkalond, stood on the edge of the handrail on the third floor and looked at the dignitaries in the hall on the first floor. She was wearing a noble purple long-sleeved robe with a short-sleeved coat on the outside, a purple cloak on her body, and a spiked crown on her head. The four pale skulls on the crown were extremely strange under the reflection of the ceiling crystal.
A moment later, Annasara teleported directly to the throne in the hall on the first floor, looking at the dignitaries expressionlessly. Annasara raised her right hand and grabbed it. The patriarch of the Calvo family, who was hiding at the back, was dragged to the steps of the throne by black magic. The patriarch of the Calvo family lowered his head with fear and pain in his eyes. Annasara immediately held her hand. The patriarch of the Calvo family began to bleed all over his body, and he knelt in a pool of his own blood, struggling in pain.
All the powerful people were silent; they saw darkness, pain and dictatorship.
On the throne, Annasara's pale face looked like a ghost under the crystal light from the hall's ceiling, looking coldly at the head of the Calvo family.
This was Hanil Halla, a high-energy traditional Duruchi event where the nobles paid tribute to the Night Wardens and reaffirmed their loyalty, and the Night Wardens did the same to the Witch-King. The great halls of the Night Warden's castle were filled with the most prominent nobles of Clar Karond, rich in wealth, slaves, and military exploits, or with ancient bloodlines and titles. On this important occasion, the houses stood at arm's length. Each noble was surrounded by his own retinue of trusted and powerful figures, allowing each noble Druchi noble to think for himself.
The Maranul brothers also stood beside Newker, holding the noble curved swords in their hands. Daquus looked at the head of the Calvo family suffering at the bottom of the stairs with an indifferent expression. Maranul suddenly turned his head and looked at Daquus. There was no chill in Maranul's eyes that made Daquus feel chilled, but instead there was a kind of playful mockery unique to fun people. Newker also turned his head and glared at the two brothers at this time.
The show began, with a steady stream of dignitaries coming forward to pay tribute and pledge their family's loyalty. Anasara remained silent, nodding and shaking her head. A nod would result in a return of her gift, and she would unleash her dark magic, causing the dignitaries to collapse in torment before being dragged away by Hell's guards. A shake of the head? That unfortunate soul would lie with the patriarch of the Calvo family. Some of the dignitaries had committed crimes, others were humiliated by Anasara's meager gifts. Still others simply wanted to demonstrate their power because Anasara disliked them.
"Wat! From the Thorn Family!"
The sound pierced the air and echoed in Dacus's ears. Annasara suddenly turned around, looked at Dacus and asked jokingly, "What do you think?"
"Fuck!"
The dignitaries also cast their eyes over, and Daxus was about to break out in a cold sweat. How could he have such a talent? Haniel Hara's show was halfway through, and the first sentence Anasara said was directed at him. He reacted and bowed solemnly to Anasara.
Anasara nodded slightly and said her second sentence of the day: "Come before me and offer your tribute."
This voice was like a pair of invisible black hands, slowly penetrating into Walter's heart and grabbing his heart. He gritted his teeth tightly, mustered up his courage, lowered his head and walked slowly over, crossing the pool of blood under the steps. The coagulated blood stuck to the soles of his boots.
Walter stopped three steps away from the throne platform and said slowly and lowly: "Your servant awaits your orders."
The eyes of the dignitaries were cast on Walter again, and he could feel their hungry scrutiny.
"We have spent another year in exile, and the usurpers of Ulthuan have incurred another blood debt." Anasara leaned her left elbow on the armrest of the throne, supporting her chin with her left hand and spoke lazily.
"We will not forgive! We will not forget!" Walter replied.
"We are the people of cold and darkness, sustained by our hatred! We live for His Majesty the Witch-King, to right an ancient wrong!"
"Through fire, blood, and destruction!"
Annasara slowly stood up, walked down the steps and approached Walter, with a faint black aura emanating from her eyes.
"Loyal subjects offer tribute to their Night Wardens. What tribute will you lay at my feet, Walter of House Thorn?"
"Great Nightlord, everything I possess is yours: my sword, my fortune, my hatred. They are all I have!"
Anasara said slowly with a bored expression, "There are no weaklings in Naggaroth! Other subjects lay their gold, bodies, and weapons at my feet. They serve Clar Karond and His Majesty the Witch King, bringing torment to our enemies." Then she added, "The answer is always the same!"
It was obvious that Annasara was not satisfied with Walter's template answer.
Walter suddenly lost his temper and said, "Then kill me! Let my blood water Clar Kalond! The weak cannot fight the enemy, nor can they uphold the laws of Duruki, nor can they serve you and His Majesty the Witch King."
Then Walter roared, "But loyalty is a quality prized in Naggaroth, and wise Night Wardens do not squander it. The Druzil drink from the World's Abyss! We stand on the brink of the Outer Darkness, reveling in its intoxication as no other race does. We shed blood, stir up storms of blood, and reap what we sow to satisfy our desires, but we do not waste what is useful to us!"
Anasara looked at Walter in silence. Suddenly, she extended her hand and said, "Finally, something new. I accept your allegiance, Walter Thorn, and hope you will pass on this great bloodline and title. However, loyalty alone is not enough. Slaves must fear their masters, and respect must be earned through the whip. Since you have offered a small gift, then you will taste a little more suffering."
Awareness flooded back like a tide, filling the nooks and crannies of his mind. Walter felt himself walking, his steps numb and stagnant. His noble robes were soaked with sweat, urine, and blood. His mouth tasted bloody, and his tongue was swollen where he had bitten it. Groups of Duruchi passed on either side of him, their pale faces floating vaguely on the edge of his perception.
Shadows lingered in Walter's mind, retreating from his consciousness. Dark, cold, clawed, too ancient to comprehend. They both stirred and unsettled him. If he focused too much on the memories, he could feel his fragile control over his body begin to break. Suddenly, he saw his father, smiling at him and slowly approaching. He reached out to embrace his father, but just as he was about to do so, the world snapped back into focus.
At this time, Ryan supported Walter and stood in the garden of Nightlord Castle.
Friday's Crakalonde Melon Eating Record is over
