Chapter 381: Grace (Part II)
One name after another was announced by the heralds, and nearly fifty people had gathered on the platform designated for Counts of the Empire.
Those whose names were called were overjoyed, celebrating with their families and the factions behind them. Meanwhile, those not called could only clench their fists and grieve bitterly.
The half-dragon heralds cleared their throats and began reading the next list.
"Charlotte is granted the title of Viscount."
"Singo is granted the title of Viscount."
"Ernie Baines is granted the title of Viscount."
"..."
At the Viscount level, the number of players on the list increased significantly, including many familiar names—either members of major guilds or professional solo players.
Unlike others, [Magic Coin] guild leader Charlotte ascended the platform with a forced smile.
"My Count position..."
Charlotte wailed silently in her heart.
The heralds continued reading from the list, summoning one imperial citizen after another to the altar. By the end, the number of Viscounts had grown to over a hundred.
For ordinary civilians, the positions of Count and Viscount were far too lofty. However, the title of Baron represented a tantalizing step into the dragonblood nobility, breaking through social barriers.
As a result, many held their breaths, praying fervently to hear their names.
——George was one of them.
Standing among the ranks of soldiers below the altar, George's hands trembled slightly as he gripped his spear. His uniform was soaked with sweat.
After months of battle, George had become a squad sergeant and earned a few medals for killing enemy commanders, but he remained anxious.
George muttered under his breath:
"Bless me, Cassius..."
"Please make me a dragonblood noble..."
"Jockley Raymond is granted the title of Baron."
"Brinton Landry is granted the title of Baron."
With each name announced, murmurs spread through the crowd, while George strained to hear.
The herald's voice echoed again from above.
"George is granted the title of Baron."
A wave of euphoria overwhelmed George, nearly causing him to faint before he could collect himself.
"Is this real?"
"I... I'm becoming a dragonblood noble!"
George's legs shook as he staggered onto the platform under the guards' supervision. Kneeling before the altar, his eyes brimmed with tears.
The crowd erupted into commotion, with exclamations rising from all sides.
"That... that's a serf's mark!"
"Him again, that guy favored by the gods of fate."
"He's become a dragonblood noble? I'm so jealous!"
"That's Lord George! I used to work alongside him! Look at him now, Baron George!"
George's story had become legendary among the working class.
The Ministry of Propaganda had framed him as the embodiment of the "Empire's Dream." While some revered him as a role model, others dismissed him as merely a lucky man unworthy of admiration.
Regardless, George had crossed the threshold.
He was about to enter the ranks of the Empire's elite, joining the so-called "great figures."
"From now on..."
"I am a dragonblood noble."
Under the gaze of tens of thousands, George's face was streaked with tears of joy—tears born of the sweet realization that he had climbed the social ladder through effort.
"Praise Cassius!"
George whispered his prayer.
Indeed, it was a prayer.
To the high and mighty Emperor, George felt only gratitude, even reverence bordering on worship.
In the old Northern Lands, as a serf, he had no hope, destined to die aimlessly in the cold.
Cassius's rise and the establishment of the Empire had granted him freedom and allowed him to become a dragonblood noble—a man who could control his own destiny.
As an absolute beneficiary of the imperial system, how could he not be grateful?
After this ennoblement, even if Cassius commanded him to die, George would not hesitate.
Everything he had—status, honor, even life—was granted by the Empire.
"May His Majesty live forever, and may the Empire endure eternally."
When the final name was read, over three hundred Barons now stood on the platform. Most had been fearless soldiers in wartime, earning their status through valor.
For ordinary citizens, Barons were an accessible ideal, close enough to grasp.
With the ennoblement ceremony complete, the event seemed to conclude.
Or rather, it had just truly begun.
"It can begin now."
Suspended in the air, Cassius slowly flapped his wings, gazing down with golden eyes at the kneeling subjects on the altar.
"Roar—"
A prolonged roar echoed, as the dragon crystal on Cassius's chest emitted a blinding radiance, illuminating the entire sky.
The intense light compelled the tens of thousands gathered to shut their eyes.
In an instant, the night over the Anzeta Wasteland was as bright as day.
[Imperial Grace]
Streams of glowing fire descended from the sky like meteors, landing on the bodies of the kneeling subjects below.
The sky was adorned with hundreds of fiery tails, creating a breathtaking spectacle.
Those who had previously received the dragonblood blessing felt the scorching energy coursing through their veins, waiting silently for their lives to ascend further.
Langpu, the ogre archmage, knelt motionless, eyes closed, as his body underwent a transformation, growing ever more perfect.
Soon, Langpu raised his head, his golden eyes ablaze with fire, a look of uncontainable excitement flashing through them—he felt the bond with his soul.
"Master..."
Those who had never received the dragonblood blessing began their transformation amidst agonizing screams, stepping toward a higher essence of life.
"This... this is grace."
"I've endured so much hardship; I must hold on!"
George's frail body trembled violently as scales began to form beneath his skin. He instinctively threw his head back and roared.
"Awoo!"
His bloodshot, inflamed eyes transformed into golden slitted pupils—the most iconic trait of dragonblood nobles, revered as "Golden Eyes."
"I... I'm a dragonblood noble now."
George stared at the scales forming on his hands. His final thought before losing consciousness was this realization.
On the altar, hundreds of subjects underwent similar transformations, becoming true magical dragonline creatures.
The grand altar, adorned with flowing firelight, resembled a realm beyond the mortal world.
In the sky, the red dragon flapped his wings, showcasing his might as he bestowed the Empire's grace.
"No..."
"That's truly an ascension ceremony."
Daryev gazed up at the spectacular scene on the altar, his expression dark and grim.