Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 145 The Crown of Oath
A man slowly walked into the palace gate. He was wearing a simple vest, with a carved wooden box tucked under his left arm and a sword staff in his right hand.

His posture remained upright, but he could not escape the ravages of time; even a great warrior eventually grows old.

His sword and staff struck the ground, the sound echoing throughout the hall, the rhythm as brisk as a war song.

Xilan, the chief swordsman of the palace and the dean of the Warrior Academy.

Witnessing the rise of three Novik kings, the great warriors who safeguard the legacy have entered their twilight years.

The sharpness in his eyes was gone; his eyes were now cloudy and dull.

As the long table in front of Doom slowly descended, the hall was empty of everything else, and the mirror-like floor reflected the images of the two men.

He prepared to stand up and personally greet the elder, but Xilan raised her hand to stop him: "I can still walk."

“I am the one who has an audience; the sanctity of the rules must not be violated.”

The great swordsman was old; even as his lifespan came to an end, rules and rituals had long been ingrained in his blood.

Xilan, with his white hair, bald eyebrows, age spots on his forehead, and a beard hanging down from the corner of his mouth, spoke in a hollow, aged, and slow voice: "Xilan pays homage to the great King of Norwick."

He knelt on one knee, leaning on his sword and staff, his hollow voice becoming much louder. After a long pause, he said, "This is my last audience with you."

“Please rise, esteemed elder,” Doom said, gently raising his arm. “I have already permitted you not to kneel.”

"Rules are one of the sources of our strength." Xi Lan forced a respectful smile onto his wrinkled old face.

Doom gestured with his eyes for Sophia to bring a chair so the old man could sit down and talk slowly.

"Elder, are you really going to lay down your burden?" he asked Xilan softly, maintaining his kingly demeanor and ensuring the Great Swordsman was impeccable.

The resignation letter on the desktop is a written report submitted by Xilan, in which the great swordsman decides to return to a life of ordinariness.

Looking at the old figure of the great swordsman, my heart is filled with reluctance.

This warrior, with his noble soul, rejected all means of prolonging his life, facing his end like an autumn leaf quietly awaiting its return to its roots.

"My King, my mind has become sluggish." Xi Lan showed no regret, simply stating the facts: "It's time to retire and let the new generation usher in a new era."

Looking back on his life, the great swordsman smiled gently, without any regrets.

"The future belongs to young people. My thoughts and soul will be passed on to my students, and I will have no regrets in this life."

As he spoke, his eyes were filled with pride.

For a legendary warrior, death is not frightening.

Inheritance and remembrance are their lifelong pursuits, and they hope that their skills can be passed down.

Xilan's warrior career was fulfilling; his meticulous philosophy and impartial combat skills were passed on to one Night Guardian after another.

"So who do you have in mind? Someone who can take your place?" Seeing that he was determined to leave, Doom did not try to stop him.

When asked about the Grand Swordsman, they inquired whether there was a suitable candidate to succeed him.

Xilan's position is crucial: Chief Greatsword Master and Dean of the War Academy.

The former was responsible for the inheritance and development of court combat techniques, while the latter taught warriors, imparting skills and shaping their souls.

"The Grand Swordsman of the Court - Flano Novick, and the Dean of the War Academy - Erica von Stern."

Xi Lan said two names almost without hesitation.

Doom nodded slightly; the Grand Swordsman's recommendation was exactly what he had in mind.

Flano Novick.

Beneath his refined and gentle appearance lies a superb swordsmanship, enough to qualify him for the position of Grand Swordsman of the Imperial Court.

It's time for him to take on some responsibility and end his leisurely semi-retirement.

Most importantly, Flano has a son and a daughter, making him the most suitable person to teach the future generations of all races.

Erica von Stern. That stern-faced lady, with a serious air about her, was perfectly suited to be the dean.

She is intolerant of any flaws, has an upright and unyielding character, and her seniority is unmatched.

"Can't the position of Chief Grandmaster be held by Harlan Ogrivi?" Doom asked, looking at Xilan with a hint of anticipation.

He wanted to know if Xilan's attitude towards her son-in-law had changed.

These two rivals are an old man who is stubborn to the death and a warrior who is desperately trying to prove himself.

The feud between the two has never eased over the decades; on the contrary, it has become an intractable knot over time.

"If he becomes the chief swordsman, I'd rather die on duty." Xi Lan's expression instantly turned serious, his brows furrowing with disgust, and his tone became much harsher:
"I will not allow this to happen before I close my eyes."

Doom shook his head helplessly. All his wisdom had failed him at this moment; he was unable to reconcile the father-in-law and son-in-law.

Harlan lived the first half of his life for himself. He fought fiercely on the battlefield, striving for honor with all his might, just to leave his mark on the swordsmanship of the throne.

His goals for the second half of his life changed; while still pursuing honor, he now sought recognition from Xilan. Marrying Xilan's daughter, perhaps as a premeditated act of revenge, meant Harlan also took on corresponding responsibilities.

He hoped to gain his father-in-law's approval and prove that his wife's choice was right, and he fought tirelessly for this goal.

Since becoming involved with Harlan, his wife has been kicked out of the house by Xilan, and his stubborn old father has never visited his daughter.

Xilan loved his daughter, so he hated Harlan for taking her away.

Xilan would never be so angry if her daughter married any warrior; on the contrary, she would be very happy.

But she married the champion swordsman, the most dazzling warrior on the battlefield, who engaged in one-on-one duels.

A person who has their head tied to their waist, who disregards life, and who repeatedly flirts with death.

Their combat philosophies and swordsmanship philosophies are completely at odds, resulting in a highly strained relationship between the father-in-law and son-in-law.

“You don’t need to mention him anymore.” The great swordsman lowered his head, staring blankly at his reflection, his stubborn heart beginning to waver.

“Harlan stole my jewel and left her shrouded in the shadow of losing her husband. I will never forgive him.”

“But it is you.” Xi Lan put on a smile, put down her sword and staff, and held up the wooden box with both hands: “This is a relic that the old King Norwick entrusted to me to keep, and I am here to give it to you at the appropriate time.”

"I think now is the time."

His eyes were filled with tears, and when he looked at the box, tears streamed down his face. "I'm letting go of all responsibilities, including the entrustment from my old friend."

Upon hearing about his father's belongings, Doom instinctively sat up straight, his hands, which had been resting on the armrests, involuntarily clenching slightly.

Doom tried his best to remain serious, not daring to be negligent in the slightest, his voice a little hoarse: "Please bring it up."

He was eager to know what was inside the box, the keepsake his father had left him.

"I'll take it up to you." Xi Lan held the box in both hands, no longer using her sword staff for support.

His steps were unhurried, his aged body exuding majesty, and his eyes stared directly at the king who sat on the throne.

"This is your father's solemn instruction."

Xilan exclaimed in admiration, "After the Nur Ring was unsealed, I regained my memories, and his wisdom amazed me."

"Open it and take a look." He knelt down on one knee and held the box high in both hands.

Doom took the wooden box, and with a gentle touch, pulled Xilan up, making him stand beside him.

The table rose again, and Doom carefully placed the wooden box on it.

His hands, which had killed countless enemies, trembled slightly at this moment, and he seemed somewhat hesitant.

At the right time? It must be when my father has high expectations for me, or now, when I can gain the approval of a great swordsman.

Recognition is very subjective. Does the great swordsman's recognition meet the father's expectations?

Doom's fingers trembled as he finally opened the carved wooden box. The contents inside made his eyes light up: "This is..."

His voice trembled with surprise as he saw a crown pressing down on a letter sealed with wax.

The moment he saw it, Doom tilted his head back to suppress the tears welling up in his eyes.

The Crown of Oath!

Its history is as long as that of the Norwick royal family, witnessing the rise of each king and the change of power.

The crown is old and simple, with rather rough workmanship, and even somewhat ugly.

Its significance is extraordinary; it needs no embellishment with jewels, for its brilliance lies in itself.

Thousands of years ago, in an unnamed cave, the first warriors decided to unite and end the chaos of the Nur wars.

They gathered around the furnace, made a solemn oath of guardianship, and threw their respective tokens of oath into the furnace to be melted down.

As the molten iron is poured out, it is shaped by each other's hands, accompanied by the chanting of vows.

The irregular crown is imprinted with palm prints; the sharp protrusions are formed by molten iron seeping from between the fingers, and the rough holes are traces left by blood erosion.

Doom seemed to have lost all his strength, leaning against the throne, blinking several times, trying to wipe away the tears welling up in his eyes.

"Is that it?!" Xi Lan exclaimed in surprise. Even someone as composed as him lost his composure upon seeing the Crown of Oaths.

"I never imagined that the box contained the Crown of Oaths. No wonder your father made me the Dean, keeping me away from battle."

Xi Lan slowly shook her head, a momentary fear rising in her heart.

If I die in battle or something unexpected happens, this throne relic may be lost forever.

He exhaled a breath of stale air and immediately felt incredibly relieved: "It truly deserves you."

(End of this chapter)