Starting My Journey as a Dragon Rider from the Deepwater Realm

The Golden Blade, part of the Breath of the Golden Heart techniques, was widely regarded as the simplest combat skill to master. It seemed tailor-made for someone like Clobber, a newly minted formal knight.

The technique worked by accelerating the vibration frequency of one's internal battle energy, weaving it into fine threads that enveloped the weapon. This process significantly enhanced the weapon's sharpness and durability, making it a versatile and reliable skill.

Despite its ease of practice, the Golden Blade was anything but weak. Clobber estimated it could increase his attack power by at least sixty percent.

"If only it could be applied to armor," Clobber muttered to himself, a tinge of regret in his tone. "My combat effectiveness would skyrocket like a blazing arrow."

Clobber was confident that, given enough time, mastering combat skills would be as effortless as reaching into a bag for him. But reality was far less forgiving.

The looming war within the duchy cast a long shadow over his ambitions. Time, once abundant, now trickled away like grains of sand in an hourglass. Even with his remarkable talent, Clobber doubted he could master more than a single technique before the war began.

He was certain, however, that his destiny awaited on the battlefield, where he would shine like a blazing star. The thought of forging his legacy in the crucible of war filled him with a fervent determination.

In the bustling training grounds, knights and noble scions from across the count's territory honed their skills. Among them were seasoned warriors—formal knights and members of elite knightly orders—each representing the finest martial prowess of the region.

Their ties to the ruling Moonglow Mushroom family were equally notable. Many had married into the extended family, while others served as squires to prominent knights of the house. This intricate web of relationships ensured loyalty among the territory's nobility. After all, it was hard to rebel against someone you called uncle or cousin.

In the midst of these grizzled veterans, Clobber's youthful appearance stood out like a beacon. Barely into adulthood, his presence among seasoned knights drew more than a few curious glances.

"Hey, see that kid over there training? That's Clobber Oats. Word is he just became a formal knight yesterday. Looks like he's practicing the Golden Blade, one of the Golden Rose family's signature techniques," remarked an older knight as he wiped his brow with a towel.

Another, younger knight scoffed, his tone dripping with envy. "I thought the Golden Rose family kept their secrets close. How did he get his hands on it?"

The older knight chuckled knowingly. "You're out of the loop. That boy's had a rough start. He's been out of favor with the Baron of Deepwater since the day he was born. If it weren't for his exceptional talent and the Golden Rose family providing him with basic resources, he'd never have crossed the threshold into knighthood."

Leaning closer, he lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Rumor has it that Baron Adam plans to take Clobber back to Deepwater to discuss changing his surname. Next time you see him, you might be calling him Clobber Goldrose."

"What? No way!" The younger knight's voice rose, drawing the attention of others nearby. "Would the Baron of Deepwater even agree to that? That's his own son! And with such talent? Clobber's destined to be a great knight—maybe even an Earth Knight someday. The Oats family could rise to a viscounty within a few decades! Why would he let that slip away?"

His outburst drew murmurs from the surrounding knights, who quickly joined the conversation.

A well-dressed, middle-aged man smirked. "That bloated pig of a baron? If he had half a brain, his son wouldn't be in this position. The boy has to buy his own gear and can't even afford proper armor."

The revelation elicited gasps of disbelief.

"By the dragons! If my son had that kind of potential, I'd sell my estate to support him. Anything to secure our family's future," one knight exclaimed.

"Exactly! Sixteen and already a formal knight? That's a guaranteed ticket to greatness. What's wrong with the Baron of Deepwater?"

The discussion quickly spiraled into an impromptu council of gossip. These knights and nobles, sharp-minded and well-informed, pieced together a damning narrative from fragmented details:

Clobber bore an uncanny resemblance to Lilith Goldrose.His existence posed a threat to the Baron's elder son.The Baron had numerous mistresses while Lilith was pregnant.A merchant's daughter, one of the mistresses, had openly insulted Lilith just days before her labor, without facing punishment.After Lilith's death, the mistress moved into the Baron's castle without delay.A knight loyal to Lilith had once sworn to cleave the Baron's head in two.

The pieces fit together too neatly to ignore. Many of those present had lived through those years and needed little imagination to reconstruct the tragic tale.

The consensus was clear: Lilith Goldrose, unable to fulfill her husband's desires during pregnancy, had been betrayed. The mistress's brazen provocations went unchecked, leading to Lilith's premature death. The Baron then deflected blame onto the newborn Clobber and brought his mistress into the castle to silence her.

The knights' speculations painted a grim picture of Lilith's final days—a noblewoman betrayed, dishonored, and abandoned. For many present, the story struck a nerve. Those with daughters couldn't help but envision a similar fate for their own, should they marry into an unworthy house.

Dark expressions spread among the gathered knights. While infidelity among nobility was nothing new, the public humiliation of a noble lady—especially one of Lilith's lineage—was a line that should never be crossed.

In a duchy ruled by a grand duchess, where noblewomen enjoyed elevated status, such an affront was more than a family scandal; it was a direct attack on the dignity of all noblewomen.

As whispers turned to murmurs and tempers flared, none noticed the arrival of two men until a thunderous voice shattered the tense atmosphere.

"Is what you're saying… true?"

The crowd parted like a tide, revealing Baron Adam and an older knight with a steely gaze—Foster Woodshield, a veteran knight renowned for his unyielding loyalty to the Goldrose family.

Foster's piercing eyes scanned the assembly, his voice low and simmering with rage. "Answer me. Is it true?"

The training ground fell silent as the weight of their presence bore down on everyone. Meanwhile, far away in Deepwater, Baron Klarlel remained blissfully unaware that a storm was brewing—one that could sweep away everything he held dear.

Lilith Goldrose's Tragic Tale

During her pregnancy, Lady Lilith Goldrose found herself unable to meet Baron Kral's needs. Kral, ever the unfaithful, sought solace in the arms of mistresses. Things took a dramatic turn when one of these mistresses brazenly showed up at the castle to challenge Lilith's authority as its lady. To make matters worse, Kral refused to discipline the woman.

The humiliation and stress proved too much for the pregnant Lilith, causing her to go into labor prematurely. The resulting complications led to her tragic death. Desperate to keep the scandal under wraps, Kral hastily pinned the blame on the newborn child, Clober. To silence the mistress, he brought her into the castle, disregarding the reputation of his noble house.

As this sordid tale unfolded in whispered tones among the knights, it painted a vivid picture in their minds:

Lady Lilith, born into the prestigious Goldrose family, had suffered an insult no noblewoman should endure. The daughter of a powerful house, she had been reduced to misery in her husband's castle, her dignity trampled by a lowborn merchant's daughter. Kral's inaction left her isolated, her once-bright spirit dimmed. After giving birth to her son, she passed away, leaving behind a legacy of sorrow.

The gathered nobles, many of whom had daughters married off to distant lands, could not help but imagine such a fate for their own children. What if their daughters were subjected to the same humiliation by indifferent husbands? Their faces darkened at the thought.

While infidelity among noblemen was hardly news to anyone present—few of them could claim absolute fidelity in their own marriages—the blatant disrespect shown to a castle's rightful lady was a different matter entirely. A mistress openly provoking a noblewoman without consequence? That crossed a line no one was willing to tolerate.

In the Grand Duchy, where the reigning sovereign, the Golden Duchess, was a woman, the rights and dignity of noblewomen held considerable weight. While not entirely equal, the balance of power between men and women in the duchy leaned closer to parity than in many other regions.

Within noble families, husbands might oversee external affairs such as war and governance, but wives were the undisputed rulers of their castles. A lady retained close ties with her family of birth, strengthening alliances between noble houses. Disrespecting a noblewoman was tantamount to insulting her entire lineage, potentially sparking conflicts between families.

Kral's actions didn't just tarnish his own reputation; they cast a shadow over the entire Goldrose family and undermined the dignity of the nobility as a whole.

For the knights in attendance, the implications were clear. If such behavior became normalized, it could threaten the tradition of marrying daughters to form alliances. Who would want their daughter subjected to such disgrace? Worse, such an insult could easily lead to open war between families.

The tension in the air was palpable as the knights exchanged uneasy glances. They knew the gravity of what had been revealed, and the fear of these whispers spreading sent a chill down their spines.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

A thunderous voice shattered the uneasy silence:

"Is what you just said... true?"

The crowd parted instantly, revealing Adam, Baron Goldrose, striding forward with an older knight by his side. The question had come from the older man, his voice low and trembling with barely contained fury.

This was Foster Woodshield, a knight of humble origins who had dedicated his life to the Goldrose family.

Foster's journey to knighthood had been anything but smooth. Born into a peasant family, he was conscripted at the age of thirteen and nearly lost his life in his first battle when a war hammer crushed his chest. Yet, by some miracle, he survived.

That brush with death seemed to unlock something within him. From that moment, his training progressed at an astonishing pace, leaving his peers far behind. As a young squire, he was personally selected by Lady Lilith Goldrose to serve in her personal guard.

Serving Lady Lilith had been the happiest time of Foster's life. She was everything a noblewoman should be—kind, radiant, and compassionate. Her golden hair shone like the sun, and her warmth brought light to everyone around her.

Years later, when Foster reached the threshold of knighthood, he faced a dilemma: without the aid of a magical potion, his advancement would be nearly impossible. To his surprise, it was Lady Lilith herself who handed him a vial of the Goldrose family's precious potion.

"Take this, Foster. As your lady, it is my duty to see you grow stronger. How else will you protect me?"

Her words had been etched into his memory ever since.

When news of her death reached him, it felt as though his world had crumbled. But despite his grief, Foster could not bring himself to blame an innocent newborn for the tragedy. Instead, he swore an oath of loyalty to Clobber, vowing to protect Lady Lilith's only legacy.

For years, Foster thought he had buried his rage. But hearing the truth behind Lady Lilith's death reignited the flames of fury within him. This wasn't just a tragedy; it was murder.

In Foster's eyes, Baron Kral and his mistress had orchestrated Lady Lilith's demise. How else could a mere commoner dare to insult the daughter of the Goldrose family unless she had Kral's tacit approval?

Now, standing before the trembling knights, Foster demanded the truth. His piercing gaze and Adam's icy silence turned the training grounds into a scene of dread.

Unbeknownst to them, Kral—still busy recruiting peasants in the Deepwater Territory—was blissfully unaware that his reckoning was imminent.