The Northern Star

CG Chapter 102: The Northern Star

The walk to meet the king was completely silent.

The guards, who would have normally been all over Folek, eager to chat with such a strong knight, held their tongues. They understood the weight of what was about to take place.

The Jafn Judgment, governed by the Strio oath, upheld the principle that under the sword, all were equal. There was no distinction between the wealthy and the poor, royalty and peasantry, nor even between the king and his subjects. The only thing that mattered was the battle, with strength as the only master.

To understand the weight of this oath to the Northerners, one only needed to know this: even a father who lost his son in battle wouldn't dare bear any ill will outside the fight against his son's killer. If he wished for revenge, he would need to request a new Jafn Judgment to take place.

And so, the never-ending cycle of battle would act as the melting pot of the North, serving as the forge for so many warriors to be born.

As they approached the training ground, Folek caught a strange scent. The odor grew stronger with every step he took, but he ignored it, focusing solely on his target.

The trio walked through the simple yet wooden halls of the Skyweaver palace, which was filled with the statues of former kings.

Finally, they arrived at a vast open ground placed in the heart of the palace. This ground served as the relentless training area for the royal family, isolated from the temptations of the outside world.

At the center of the training ground, Folek's gaze fell on what he first thought to be a giant seated atop an enormous creature. As he stepped closer, his shock almost became visible.

This giant was none other than his target: Ragnar Skyweaver, the strongest knight in the seven kingdoms. Yet the word man didn't do the creature in front of him justice.

It seemed that even the rumors failed to truly capture Ragnar's stature. The king wasn't just ten feet tall; he stood like a towering mountain at fourteen feet.

His silver hair, which reached to the back of his neck, flew freely with the wind, while his face seemed to be sculpted by a master craftsman from the fairest of stones. Under his right eye were the marks of four stars, giving him an otherworldly look.

But what struck Folek most wasn't Ragnar's appearance; it was what he was sitting on. Beneath him lay the freshly slain corpse of a crystal-horned polar bear.

This creature wasn't an ordinary beast; it possessed strength that almost surpassed this world's limits. Its strikes had the strength to crush an unprepared grand knight.

Now, it lay there with its blood soaking the training ground, like some kind of defenseless animal.

Ragnar, noticing the newcomers, smiled broadly. "Oh, and what do we have here?" His eyes turned to the guards, awaiting their response.

Feeling his gaze, the guards felt an immense pressure fall on them. "We greet the Konungr. We would humbly request the presence of the Eyeless to bear witness to 'the word.'"

Unlike most kingdoms, which only had two major authorities, Vennturia had three: the royal family, the church, and the Eyeless, who wielded no actual forces.

The Eyeless were a group devoid of emotion. They would gouge out the eyes of selected young children, making them see no status, but simply hear and record the sacred oaths.

These people feared neither the king, nor the church, nor even the gods themselves. Their only purpose was to bear witness, preserving the word.

Hearing the guards' request, Ragnar's smile vanished from his face before roaring with laughter that spread like an explosion, shaking the entire palace. "Hah! At last, a new challenger appears."

There was only one reason that would require the presence of the Eyeless: to record an oath.

For the guards to come to him with such a request could mean only one thing: someone wished to challenge him.

Ragnar looked to the closest servant to him, ordering, "Summon the Eyeless! Summon those who hear but do not see. Let the oath be engraved into their minds."

It didn't take long for the news of the battle to spread like wildfire. The servants, guards, and nobles disregarded their status as they stood side by side to witness the battle.

Time passed, and a figure covered in tattered black robes arrived. The man's eye sockets were empty, and his lower lip was split in half as if he was hunted by the grudge of grieving ghosts.

"Speak, mortal. But remember, what is heard cannot be unheard. The oath you take was there before you came, and will remain long after your death." The Eyeless spoke to the king and Folek in a tone that lacked any shred of respect. To him, everyone was equal, and the king was no different from a roadside peasant.

As he finished, a group of children without eyes followed behind him. These children carried skulls from which light emanated from their sockets.

These skulls belonged to the previous Eyeless, who had witnessed the battle before it took place. Now, the Eyeless, along with the children, would witness the present and future of the battle.

The Eyeless, the children, and the glowing skulls formed a strange triad. As they took their places around Folek and the king, broken voices emerged from all three:

"Do you swear to uphold the sacred word, lest your tongue be sealed shut?"

"Do you swear to fight with your all, lest you lose it all?"

"If the word is true, it shall be written, never to be forgotten."

"If the word is unspoken, curses shall be spoken. From before you came, to long after you are gone."