Chapter 237: Ultimate Weapon in Wushan Fortress

Marriages among nobility always demanded equality of rank; if Blanchette truly married Roning, it would be a fall from grace.

Though Roning’s Ubei domain was vast—nearly equivalent to a countship—it could not be denied that most of it remained wild, untamed wilderness; his current status was little better than that of an ordinary baron.

Even if Blanchette’s reputation beyond the court was tarnished—rumored to be a widow-maker—she was still a princess of the realm. Such a downward match was exceedingly rare.

No one knew how Lord Rulans had communicated with His Majesty the King.

“What did you give up to secure this marriage, Grandfather?” Roning could not help asking. As the central figure, he wished to understand more.

Rulans lifted his gaze toward the nearby fortress and halted his steps. Now, even walking had become laborious for him.

“Naturally, I relinquished considerable interests.”

Rulans said: “For instance, the mine north of Wushan City, along with several family enterprises—we’ve opened them to joint development and operation with the Crown’s team.”

The mine to the north?

Roning pondered, then recalled: north of Wushan City lay two mines—one gold, one massive iron.

The gold mine had always been jointly exploited with the Kingdom; thus, the only asset that could be ceded was the iron mine—a substantial concession.

Yet Rulans added: “These are trivial matters. Wushan Castle loses merely a few hundred thousand gold coins annually. The crucial point is your changed status. Our Wushan family is a marquis house, among the elite of the Kingdom, yet we have never intermarried with the royal line. We are the only great house without blood ties to the Crown.”

The duchies, even some earldoms, either currently or ancestrally had ties to the Auduin dynasty. Wushan’s isolation was indeed unusual.

“The King values this. Moreover, Blanchette is difficult to marry off. After all, the precedents of the Duke’s two sons stand before us. Great families dare not risk it. Even if some nobles entertained the notion, their sons and grandsons pleaded so desperately that the matter was abandoned.”

Here, Rulans cast a glance at Roning—a look that seemed to say: You’re bolder than you appear.

Yet Rulans had not spoken of one further point: after his and Viggins’ deaths, Bruno would inevitably install someone of royal blood as lord of Wushan Ridge.

In short: Roning and Blanchette’s offspring would inherit the title of Marquis of Wushan.

Though nobles swore loyalty to the Crown, non-betrayal was not always true allegiance. Delays in policy, subtle resistance, quiet obstruction—these were commonplace.

In any case, family was always more reliable.

Originally, Rulans’ plan had been to use the Crown’s prestige as Roning’s shield—to make Osun and others hesitate before targeting him.

But now, it seemed his schemes had fallen short.

Not because they were sabotaged, but because Roning’s power had grown beyond Rulans’ comprehension.

Roning smiled, silent.

According to Blanchette, she had barely met her two previous betrothed. If such mere acquaintance could “kill” two ducal sons, it was absurd.

Besides, he and Blanchette had not only met—they had spent days together—and he felt no sign of being cursed.

Who had spread such a vile reputation? It had severely damaged the Crown’s dignity.

“If possible,” Roning said, “I’d prefer to delay the wedding.”

At eighteen, he was long past the age for marriage—especially since Blanchette was slightly older. Yet he resisted marriage; it was too cumbersome.

“Don’t worry. It won’t be soon. A royal alliance follows strict protocol—betrothal, then wedding—it will take two or three years.”

“But it won’t be dragged out either. Blanchette’s age speaks for itself.”

“Alright…”

As they spoke, they entered the Wushan Fortress.

Roning knew this place well. When he first crossed over, he had been dragged here, to the great hall, to face the Haide family’s accusations.

But this time, Rulans did not take him to the hall. Instead, they ascended an outer staircase to the third-floor storage chamber.

“Open it.”

Rulans produced a key.

Roning took it, walked to the chamber door, and turned the heavy black lock.

No need to ask—something valuable lay within. But could a single lock truly guard such treasures?

He tugged at it subtly, drawing Rulans’ amused chuckle.

“Don’t bother. This lock looks ordinary, but both it and the chamber are forged from rare black gold. Even a Golden Knight would struggle to wrench it open by brute force.”

Roning flushed, quickly inserting the key and unlocking it.

“What is black gold?”

“A unique material, known only to the Auduin royal family. Weapons, armor, precious artifacts made from it are extraordinarily hard.”

“Can blacksmiths forge it?”

The massive door groaned open, releasing a cool, damp breath.

“Not ordinary blacksmiths. Only a high-rank knight-smith can work it.”

Some metals require more than fire and hammering—only by infusing them with aura during forging can their true potential be unlocked.

Roning had been about to ask who could forge such material—but now, his attention was seized by the chamber’s contents.

The vast room held countless objects.

Roning could not name them, yet their shapes were familiar from reality—spears, bows, arrows…

“What is this?”

He moved toward the rear, where three unmistakable “cannon” devices stood.

“Magic Cannons,” Rulans explained. “Each is engraved with spell arrays. When activated, they unleash the sixth-tier spell: Fire Dragon Swallows Heaven.”

He pointed to the final cannon. “This one unleashes the seventh-tier wind spell: Heart-Piercing Wave. Its penetration power—forget griffins—even a seventh-tier beast with formidable defense cannot withstand it.”

Roning had experienced Fire Dragon Swallows Heaven. He knew its power.

When Karllos had been weakened, even with restrained breath, that very spell had wounded him and slain Natalia.

Now that Karllos had recovered, Fire Dragon Swallows Heaven might threaten him—but not necessarily inflict irreparable damage.

But Heart-Piercing Wave—the name alone suggested lethal precision.

Roning could not help but gaze at the final cannon, its hue a dull slate-gray.

He possessed no seventh-tier wind spell himself, nor had Rulans collected any—so its true power remained unknown.

Yet once a mage reached Arch-Magus level, their spells dwarfed sixth-tier magic entirely.

Karllos, before this spell, would likely collapse.

“What is its effective range?”

Roning touched the barrel, murmuring.

“Minimal power loss within a hundred meters. Beyond that, up to three hundred meters—it remains lethal to Golden Knights.”

Roning sucked in a sharp breath.

Such power.

If Karllos breathed fire from three hundred meters above, the impact would weaken.

Yet this Heart-Piercing Wave could strike him down even at that height.

Luo Ning never imagined that Wushan Fortress still harbored such a devastating weapon. (End of chapter)