Capítulo 66: Ancient Magical Rituals

Inside the metal drum, even Haldor's head was submerged in the red liquid. His muscles and pores were incredibly relaxed. This type of weak blood ritual wouldn't bring him many benefits, but it could put his body in better condition, and visibly, there would be no other body that could match his.

At this moment, there were thunderous sounds inside Haldor's body. The blood ritual permeated every part of him, and the essence of strength made him completely relax.

All his thoughts were momentarily silenced, and he felt as if electric currents were running through every part of his body. This was a pleasant sensation; for him, it didn't generate pain and was more like a massage. He was doing this now so that those who had the opportunity to improve their strength would strive to the utmost.

But for others, the entire process of this blood ritual would be very painful. They not only had to endure the reconstruction of their bodies but also the crushing of their muscles.

Despite the arduous and painful process, everyone cried out from the intense pain they couldn't bear.

No one knew when the ritual ended, but when the pain subsided, everyone had completely absorbed the power and were now completely new men. All had enhanced their general characteristics; they were now much stronger, and their talents would possibly increase after this.

When everyone recovered, several maidservants approached with black blankets to help them clean up, and everyone looked around, confused.

"Congratulations! You have all absorbed the power this ritual has given your bodies. At this moment, the Northern Star has left because of an urgent meeting, but I am sure that, regardless of what you think, you are a source of pride for him." Lucian stepped forward and looked at everyone with a satisfied expression. They might not know it, but that liquid, although it had no price, was estimated to be worth hundreds of thousands of gold coins.

Throughout the morning, Haldor, who had already changed, headed to the meeting room, where the heads of the main families he had summoned awaited his presence.

But before that, Haldor approached Finian and said, "You wield a sword that is too heavy for your body, so you need to increase muscle mass with special training."

Finian nodded without a word. He had sworn loyalty to Haldor after he saved him and his younger sister, Aria, who was now learning magic. His talent for the sword was very good, so much so that even the instructors who taught him were surprised by his rapid progress.

"You must know that I have high expectations for you, but you shouldn't force your body to do something it isn't accustomed to yet," Haldor said while drinking a cup of tea.

Finian looked at Haldor as if he were a god. He couldn't erase the memory of him fighting those assassins as if he were playing; it was something he could never have imagined from someone only three years older than himself.

Finian didn't understand how Haldor was so strong since he wasn't very big. Even so, despite being a brother, he couldn't treat him without respect, and his loyalty would always be with him.

…

"What is the Black Crow family planning by showing up in such an extravagant place? Don't tell me, have you forgotten what it feels like to be in a city after living all those years with the crows?" An extravagant voice broke the silence of a room with two old men inside. This man wore a beautiful red suit and a red rose over his lips.

"But look who's here, old Alarion. I thought your Harrington family had ended its history after going to a farm to protect a village that even flies don't touch," one of the elders sitting in the room replied indifferently.

In response, Alarion Harrington, leader of the Harrington family, said in a firm tone, "Your Ivanov family, living to protect a border that will never be breached, must be incredibly exhausting. I imagine you've fantasized every night about the start of another war just so your family's name would resonate again throughout the seven kingdoms."

"Well, what the hell are you two doing here if you both hate politics?" Caspian Black Crow, you finally speak. I thought the crows had eaten your tongue."

"It's always a pleasure to see you again, old Ivanov. The crows are always watching," Caspian Black Crow said as he leaned forward and thought, "Damn bag of bones, if you keep talking, I'll slit your throat and feed it to the crows. I'll turn your body into minced meat to feed the hunting dogs eagerly waiting outside, and I'll use your sword to dig your own grave."

With those twisted thoughts, Caspian Black Crow smiled amicably in front of his two old acquaintances. To outsiders, they were just three heads of their respective knightly families, but among them, there was a great story to tell.

Long before they became the successors of their respective families, they worked together as friends within a group of adventurers and were known as the three sword maniacs. The one-eyed crow, Caspian Black Crow, was the kindest on the outside but the darkest on the inside. His life revolved around thin, piercing swords, which he said were for piercing the hearts of his enemies.

The calmest was Alarion Harrington, who had dreamed since youth of living in a peaceful place away from wars and monster fights. After expelling a group of rebels, the king granted him that privilege while he protected one of the largest farming villages.

Lastly, Jax Ivanov, a lover of large-scale wars, ended up retired at a border where not even dogs fought against cats, a truly unfortunate situation if you ask him.

They had all received a letter sent by the fourth prince, inviting them to be part of a bright future that was about to shake the entire kingdom. But they didn't come out of political interest; they wanted to know how a boy could be a King of the Sword and find out where the power that protected him came from.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I must thank you for your honorable visit. I see you have already greeted each other, so let's start with the first thing." Haldor had arrived at the perfect moment; otherwise, these three old maniacs would have started fighting with their bare fists.