Dukedom’s Legendary Prodigy - Chapter 9
------------------------------------------------- Translator: Vine Chapter: 9 Chapter Title: The Shadow Cloak -------------------------------------------------
He donned the black cloak and, as a test, manipulated the shadows that flickered along its hem, infusing them with the black mana rotating in the circle of his heart.
What should have been mere shadows at his feet took on a tangible form, rising from the ground, gleaming with the deadly edge of jet-black blades. It was a scene of obsidian spikes erupting from the very ground he stood on.
‘So this is what it felt like.’
He tested the shadow blades, recalling the spectacle from that day.
The being who had once wielded this artifact had summoned a storm of shadows that swept through the area like a tidal wave. It had even been able to make the shadows themselves move like living creatures.
Shadow Creatures, they were called.
Compared to that, the shadow blades Dale controlled were nothing more than child’s play.
It was an ironclad rule that one’s ability to draw out an artifact’s power was proportional to their understanding of the equipment and the amount of mana they infused into it.
‘It’ll take a little more time to get used to it.’
While Dale inwardly swallowed his disappointment for this reason,
“Are you truly alright?”
Lord Black and Sephia could only gasp in astonishment. Lord Black’s shock was particularly profound. He was the greatest black mage and necromancer on the continent, the man who stood at the pinnacle of the Black Magic Tower.
His expertise in the power of darkness was second to none.
And from his perspective, Dale showed no signs of succumbing to the artifact’s ‘malice.’
On the contrary, he had overwhelmed the artifact's malice, forcing it to submit at his feet. It was undeniably clear.
The Shadow Cloak.
A favored piece of equipment once used by a high-ranking demon from the Demon King’s Domain, who had been defeated by the ‘Hero from Another World.’
The malevolent shadows dwelling within the cloak were now obeying a mere nine-year-old boy.
‘He’s in perfect control of its power.’
How was this possible? Artifacts were items imbued with powerful, lingering consciousness. And maintaining one’s composure against that malice required a will far beyond the ordinary.
It was certainly not something a nine-year-old child could handle.
Lord Black had initially planned to start Dale off with something simple, like summoning a lesser dark spirit, and then gradually raise the difficulty. Even that was not a matter of a day or two, but a process to be paced with Dale’s growth into adulthood.
‘This child is…’
Sephia was filled with the same astonishment.
But leaving the two to their complex thoughts, Dale’s eyes simply sparkled like a child’s—just like any other boy his age delighted with a new gift.
‘One isn’t enough.’
His greed was already considering at least two or three pieces. But as that thought crossed his mind, he finally noticed the two of them staring at him.
‘…!’
He realized his mistake. For a fleeting moment, he had been greedy, completely disregarding how he might appear to others. The artifacts from the Demon King’s Domain possessed a magic that stimulated his desires to that extent.
This was no simple metaphor.
“I’ll give you power! Power, you need power, don’t you?! Wear me!”
Artifacts were items with powerful consciousness of their own. They sensed the dark emotions hidden in Dale’s heart, resonating with them, tempting him.
With the cold, honed hatred and malice directed toward the Empire—
“Choose me! Quick, grab this hilt! Let’s slaughter them together!”
“There are people you want revenge on, aren’t there? I can feel your hatred, I can feel it!”
“Let’s get rid of them together! Quick, choose me!”
“You coward! Put me on! Let’s kill them together!”
A life-absorbing cursed sword. The armor of the undying. The Book of the Predator. A sentient necklace.
These were the spoils of those he had defeated as a hero, or items the Duchy had collected on its own.
And Dale could sense it. This wasn’t all.
Beyond the room, another passage was hidden by magic.
A secret chamber where an abyss so deep it made the artifacts here seem insignificant was writhing.
“…I’m sorry.”
Putting their cries behind him, Dale spoke carefully.
“I suddenly felt an inexplicable pull… It was as if this cloak was asking me to wear it.”
He told them a ‘half-truth.’ The two of them would surely know about an artifact’s will to choose its owner.
“…To think you would receive the ‘Call of the Artifact’.”
Lord Black muttered, as if he finally understood the situation.
No matter how outstanding Dale’s talent was, he would never have imagined a nine-year-old boy would receive the call of the ‘Shadow Cloak.’
Dale ignored the cries of the artifacts that continued to tempt him and quietly nodded.
‘For now, just controlling the power of the Shadow Cloak will be a handful.’
In any case, the Duchy’s treasures would one day be his. That included the artifacts belonging to Lord Black here. And so, Dale did not feel the need to be hasty.
“That cloak is yours from now on,”
Lord Black said. Sephia still watched Dale with a worried expression.
“But controlling the power it holds will be no easy task.”
“Yes.”
At those words, Dale finally steeled his resolve and nodded calmly, effortlessly subduing the swarm of shadows churning at his feet.
Duke Sachsen officially began to summon his knights to subjugate the orc horde that had invaded the duchy’s territory.
In the meantime, the task of teaching Dale how to control the artifact’s power fell solely to the elven mage, Sephia.
A few days later, at the crack of dawn.
His master Sephia’s teachings were strictly about how to properly control the artifact. Therefore, he needed another master to teach him how to utilize the power of the Shadow Cloak itself.
“Lord Helmut!”
In the training grounds for the vassal knights of Duke Sachsen’s castle, Dale appeared before Lord Helmut, wearing the Shadow Cloak. The knight was so startled his face turned pale.
“Young Lord Dale! That cloak, can it be!”
“It is.”
Seeing Helmut’s astonished face, Dale smiled mischievously like a rascal.
“I heard the story from His Grace the Duke, but I could not believe it.”
Lord Helmut continued.
“I’m not a child anymore, you know.”
Spoken like a true child.
“Father has decided to take me with him for the orc subjugation.”
“I have heard as much.”
Helmut silently bowed his head.
“Therefore, I, Helmut, will protect you, Young Lord, even if it costs me my life!”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Dale smiled and continued.
“You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
“Forgotten what, Young Lord?”
“We were supposed to have a duel.”
Their duel, which had been interrupted by his father’s appearance that day.
“All the more reason I cannot neglect my physical training, especially if I am to go to the battlefield.”
Shing.
Dale ostentatiously raised the shadows flickering at his feet.
“How about a real sword fight?”
He challenged Helmut boldly, making the shadow blades orbit around his feet.
Without a single hilt in his hand.
Seeing this, Helmut felt a shock, as if he had been struck in the head with a hammer.
‘With this, the Young Lord can finally make use of his talent for swordsmanship!’
He had believed that even if Dale learned the sword, it would only be a form of training, and that he would never wield one on the battlefield. But he was wrong.
The swords of shadow were laid out before him. Right now, even without being able to use aura, Dale had obtained a beloved sword that would be with him for life. The realization of this fact made his ‘teacher’s greed’ for Dale’s talent rear its head.
“Haha! You had best be prepared, Young Lord!”
Helmut grinned and placed a hand on the sword at his hip.
Shing.
A gleaming, sharp-edged sword was drawn, scattering a pale light in the morning sun.
There was no wind. The air was frozen, without even the slightest breeze.
Yet the Shadow Cloak Dale wore billowed as if caught in a raging gale.
As if it were a living creature itself.
And along the rippling shadows of the cloak’s hem, countless shadows began to stir.
‘Wielding the shadow blades is the same as wielding a sword.’
The shadows flickering around his feet began to take on substance, rising like blades.
The only difference was that the hand gripping the hilt was an ‘unseen hand’ made of his own mana. In that respect, it could be said to be several times more difficult than wielding a real sword.
But it was not without its advantages.
There was no limit to the number of blades he could form. He could transcend the limitations of his body, maneuvering them freely, much like the art of telekinetic sword control.
The circle in Dale’s heart began to rotate rapidly, like a car’s RPM suddenly spiking.
RPM—revolutions per minute.
This was no metaphor.
The average circle rotation rate for a mage was around 300 RPM. In other words, they could generate mana by rotating their circle 300 times in one minute.
But in Dale’s case right now.
—1,500 RPM.
Through the rotation rate of his circle, he could achieve ‘five times’ the efficiency from a single circle compared to a typical mage.
High-speed circle rotation.
A mage’s ability was measured not just by the number of circles they possessed, but also by the rotation rate of the circles themselves.
In Dale’s case, the amount of mana he could purely generate from a single circle would rival that of a 3rd-circle mage.
The massive amount of mana generated by the circle’s rotation began to seep into Dale’s Shadow Cloak.
“Here I come.”
With those words, Dale kicked off the ground and charged. As he rushed forward, the shadow blades that had risen from his feet shot toward Lord Helmut all at once, like an assassin’s strike, scattering countless hidden weapons in a fan shape.
It was a blow without reservation, one that an ordinary knight would not even dare to face.
But his opponent was the greatest knight in the North.
A warrior strong enough that he would not have been unilaterally crushed even if he had faced Dale’s past self at full strength.
Fwoosh!
Lord Helmut’s sword swung toward the shadow blades rushing at him.
It was fast.
And his sword split into a web of afterimages, like a fishing net cast to catch every one of the blades.
Clang!
The crisp sound of steel meeting steel rang out. And after the strike, Lord Helmut readjusted his grip and began his counterattack.
Thump!
Just as the distance between them closed, Dale’s cloak billowed once more.
It billowed, and obsidian spikes shot up sharply from under Dale’s feet. Helmut, who had been about to close the distance and strike, froze in his tracks.
‘Hoh!’
Although it was a match between master and student, it was still a fight with real swords. The knights of the Duchy watching could only stand dumbfounded.
The martial prowess of Lord Helmut Blackbear, leader of the Night Raven Knights, needed no explanation. But the one facing him was a mere nine-year-old child.
Of course, everyone in the Empire knew that the eldest son of the Duchy was a monstrously talented prodigy.
Indeed, Dale had held his own against the Duchy’s official knights with a sword in hand, not giving an inch. Although, in a mock battle where aura was not used, the knights were not fighting at 100% of their capacity.
The same was true for Lord Helmut now.
Even so, they were left speechless watching Dale and Lord Helmut face off at this very moment.
Even if he was borrowing the power of an artifact forged by a high-ranking demon. No, wasn’t it all the more bizarre that a nine-year-old child could wield such dark power so freely?
It was a scene that went beyond the realm of talent, inspiring a sense of eerie foreboding.
But Dale possessed a wonder that made them forget even that foreboding. It was not unrelated to his family history.
‘He truly is Lord Black’s son.’
Clang!
Countless shadow blades rose from Dale’s feet and swirled around, and with each one, Lord Helmut pressed his sword forward with satisfaction.
The most frightening aspect of Dale’s talent was that there was no need to verbally explain what he needed to be taught. He knew what he lacked and how to fill that gap. By simply crossing swords and experiencing it, he coolly understood and analyzed himself.
It was as if he possessed a ‘perfect theory’ of his own, and all that was left was to apply it to reality.
Therefore, Lord Helmut’s role as a teacher was singular.
To build Dale’s experience by clashing blades with him.
Awaiting the day this child would spread the wings of his talent and soar, Lord Helmut did not hesitate to become a part of those wings.