Birthing Legends: My Womb Creates SSS Monsters-Chapter 138: The Seven Houses β Part 2
Draculeus strode before the candidates, each step deliberate, his presence pressing down on them like an unseen force. He made no effort to hide his power as he wanted them to feel it, to understand what stood before them. ππΏπ²ππ°πππ§πππ²π₯.πππ
He stopped beside Percieval. The old knightβs eyes sharpened, hawk like, as they swept across the kneeling warriors.
"Get up! A Dragonguard does not serve from the dirt! If you cannot look your Prince in the eye, you are already unworthy of him!"
The hundred candidates rose at once, though many trembled. Some struggled to meet Draculeusβ gaze, their instincts screaming to bow again under the weight of his presence.
Percieval began to pace before them, the heavy clank of his armor echoing across the arena.
"Many of you are wondering... Why does a being as powerful as a Dragonborn even need a guard? You thinkββHe carries the strength of Tiamat. What could I possibly offer?β"
A few whispers slipped through the line of warriors.
"...He read my mind..."
"I was just thinking that..."
"How can anyone guard someone like him...?"
Percieval stopped, turning sharply to face them.
"A Dragonborn is a storm given flesh... But a storm does not see its own path."
A ripple of silence spread.
"Their power is overwhelmingβso overwhelming that every time they use it, they draw the gaze of every Primordial blooded being in this world. And in this world, the strongest are always hunted..."
He stopped and looked sharply at the noble warriors.
"Listen well! To be a Dragonguard is to be his right arm! And to be that... you must become an Executor. Ideas come from the Dragonborn but you make them real. He dreams of victory; you build the bridge to reach it. You are his Second Brain. You do not just follow orders; you think ahead. You catch his mistakes. You fill the gaps in his plans. You must know what he needs before he even speaks."
The candidates shifted uneasily.
"Second brain...?"
"That means we must think like him... thatβs harder than fighting..."
Draculeus shifted his wings. His blue eyes scanned the crowd, weighing every soul. Percieval continued,
"You are trusted with what others are not. Sensitive secrets. Tough decisions. The plans that are not yet finished. If a task is too heavy for anyone else, it lands on your shoulders. You are the one who Speaks when others stay quiet. A true right hand does not just say βyes.β You must challenge him when he is wrong. You protect the goal, not just his ego."
More whispers followed.
"Challenge... a Dragonborn?"
"...Did he just say that?"
"If I argue with him, I might die..."
Percieval stepped close to a young warrior, his voice dropping to a deadly low.
"And finally, you Absorb Pressure. When the world falls apart, you carry the weight. You take the hit so the Dragonborn can remain standing. You are always near the spotlight, but never in it. Your success is his success. Your life belongs to the shadow he casts... for to be a Dragonguard is to be his shadow."
The line of warriors fell into tense silence. Then faint whispers rose again, barely breathing through clenched teeth.
"...His shadow..."
"That means we live and die for him..."
"...No glory. No fame. Only loyalty."
One young warrior clenched his fist and whispered with quiet awe.
"Then it truly is the highest honor in the kingdom."
Percieval could hear their whispers. It reminded him of his first day stepping onto this very floor, when he first stood eye to eye with a Dragonborn. He stepped back, giving the floor to the candidates.
"Now! Speak! Show the Prince that your blood is more than just a name. Introduce your Houses!"
The first to step forward was the one who had been sparring with another house. He moved out with a wild grin, his blue cape fluttering behind him.
"I am Killian of House Asulfang! We are the Hounds of the North. My House is the teeth of this kingdomβwe strike before a prayer leaves a monsterβs throat. If you want a guard who hunts and kills before the enemy even breathes, choose me! Elegance? I donβt need it, Prince. I only need a target!"
His opponent from earlier sneered.
"Of course you, mutt, donβt need elegance! Youβre all wild teeth and feral instincts!"
Killianβs fellow warriors stepped forward one by one, pledging themselves with sharp words and fierce postures but Draculeusβ midnight blue eyes barely flickered. They didnβt matter.
Next came of a warriors whoβs capes blazed vibrant red, catching the sunlight like molten metal.
A cute, fluffy, massive boy stepped forward, bowing so deeply that his round belly jiggled audibly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he spoke.
"I am Hank of House Crimsonscales. We are the Unbreaking Wall. My House is known for skin that no blade can pierce. My body is your shield, Highness. I do not seek violence but anyone who harms you will have to break a mountain first."
He scratched his cheek, still dusted with crumbs from the chips he had eaten.
"And if youβre tired, Your Highness, you can even lean on me. I donβt mind. Hehe!"
A boy from Asulfang snorted.
"What did he mean by a mountain? Heβs just a mountain of fat!"
Laughter erupted from the younger warriors but it died instantly when all the Crimsonscales turned their gaze toward the Asulfang. Their sheer size, armor clinking, silenced every mockery. Even the hounds of Asulfang whimpered under that gaze.
Then a slender youth stepped forward, almost trembling, his long silver-white hair brushing the floor as he bowed deeply. He looked more like a delicate porcelain doll than a warrior.
"H-Hello... I am Sairant of House Silverspine... home of the finest Wyrmfoot riders."
His voice was squeaky, barely steady, and his knees knocked audibly with each word. A girl from another house, a scar slicing across her cheek, muttered under her breath,
"More like Sairant of House SHIVERspine! Ha!"
Sairant swallowed hard, his pale fingers twisting nervously at the hem of his cape.
"S-sorry for... my... way of presenting myself, Your Majesty... it is just that... my father made me come to represent our honor."
Even his own house whispered among themselves, irritation and doubt flickering across their faces. One murmured,
"Should he even be here?"
