Chapter 334: An Ancient Tradition

Back at the Ravens Grave table, Elena suddenly straightened uo as if remembering something important.

She turned toward Arianna and Laela, who were still cradling their babies with smiles.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Elena said, drawing their attention. “Fred, Sorkin, and Rick send their regards. They wanted to be here, but they’re on a mission far outside of dragonhold.”

Arianna moved little Andrea in her arms and smiled. “That’s alright. Tell them we appreciate the thought when you see them next.”

“And that they owe us a proper visit once they’re back,” Laela added with a grin.

“I will,” Elena said.

Right then, a presence approached that immediately drew Aiden’s attention away from his conversation with Bernard. His face lit up with genuine joy as he recognized the newcomers.

Alaric.

A broad-shouldered man with red hair and huge beards pushed through the crowd. “Aiden, ye bloody legend! Look at ye now, all grown up with kids of yer own!”

Behind him were his wives, Nessa and Elara, and running ahead of them were two young girls who’d clearly spotted their target.

“Uncle Aiden!” they shouted in unison.

Kira and Mira, both eight years old now and significantly more grown than the last time Aiden had seen them, sprinted forward.

Kira reached him first, crashing into his legs with a hug. Mira followed a second later, wrapping her arms around his other side.

Aiden laughed while patting both girls on their head. They weren’t little anymore that he’d need to crouch to their level this time.

Alaric finally reached them, having let his daughters run ahead. He extended his arm and Aiden rose to meet him, clasping forearms in a warrior’s grip before pulling each other into a proper embrace.

“I cannae believe it, posh lad,” Alaric said, pulling back to look at Aiden with pride shining in his eyes. “Ye’ve gone and become a proper man. A father!”

Nessa and Elara approached closer, offering their congratulations. They moved past Aiden toward where Laela and Arianna sat, immediately cooing over the newborns.

Then another figure stepped forward from behind Alaric’s family.

She was tall and graceful, with long orange hair, pointed ears and ethereal beauty of the elven race..

“Thank you for bringing them, Syra,” Aiden said, with a smile on his face.

Syra’s expression turned into a smile. “We would never have missed this.”

And they both embraced as well.

Syra’s presence here represented one of Aiden’s more significant acts during the world’s reconstruction.

Of all the previous hosts of the Dragon King System, she had been the only one to express a deep wish to be free of it. The others had been content to exist as souls within the system.

So when Aiden had recreated reality, he’d separated her soul from the system and remade her body as it had been prior to her time as the Black Dragon.

She had been living with Alaric and his family for the past few years, and it had been her magic, powerful even without the system’s direct enhancement, that allowed them to travel here today.

“Seems you’ve adjusted really well to the life of being human” Aiden said.

“Better than I expected,” Syra replied. “Mortality has its own kind of beauty”

Aiden smiled, he was pleased to hear it. They eventually moved together and sat around the same table as the rest of ravens grave.

Not long after, a presence commanded everyone’s attention.

Adam stood at the elevated platform, raising both hands. The All-Father’s gesture brought immediate silence to the whole square.

“The last three years have been unprecedented,” Adam began. “The relationship between humans and gods has evolved into this mutual and peaceful coexistence.”

He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the assembled crowd. “We have one individual to thank for that above all others. The King of Dragons.”

The crowd erupted in applause.

Adam waited for the noise to subside before continuing. “In honor of the King of Dragons, and to celebrate the birth of his children, I am pleased to announce the return of an ancient tradition.”

He raised his right palm upward. Golden light materialized above it, condensing and solidifying until an object floated there for all to see.

The Holy Grail.

The chalice gleamed brightly, and its surface was inscribed with symbols that seemed to shift and change as one watched.

The artifact radiated power so intense that the mortals in the crowd could feel it pressing against their senses.

“The Battle for the Holy Grail,” Adam declared.

Mixed reactions filled the crowd immediately.

At the tables, rulers turned to each other with expressions ranging from excitement to apprehension to calculated interest.

Whispered conversations began sprouting up everywhere.

Everyone knew of the Battle for the Holy Grail. It was legendary, mythical, one of the most significant events in recorded history.

Historically, the competition was held every five hundred years. The last one should have taken place three years ago, but between Samael’s invasion, the timeline merger, and the complete restructuring of the world itself, no one had even thought about it.

But now it was being announced, and anticipation built rapidly across the plaza.

Because the winner of the Battle for the Holy Grail would receive something beyond a price that was worth measuring

A wish.

Any wish they could conceive, and the Grail would grant it.

The implications were staggering. A kingdom could wish for unlimited resources. A warrior could wish for invincible strength. A scholar could wish for infinite knowledge.

The possibilities were quite literally endless, limited only by imagination.

Adam raised his hand, commanding silence once more.

“This Battle will be different from the ones you’ve heard stories about,” he continued. “To avoid disrupting the peace humanity has enjoyed these past three years, there will be rules and adjustments set in place.”

He paused, letting that sink in.

“As before, every kingdom across all eight continents may send their champions. The Battle will commence in thirty days.”

Surprised reactions followed. Thirty days was barely any time at all to prepare.

“Any additional rules or adjustments will be communicated directly to each participating ruler before the competition begins,” Adam continued. “We will ensure fairness and safety to the best of our ability.”

There was a brief pause. Then, without warning, white scrolls materialized before each ruler present.

They appeared floating in the air directly in front of where each monarch sat, accompanied by a feather quill already inked.

Adam gestured toward them. “Since every ruler is still gathered here, indicate your willingness to participate by signing your seal onto the scroll.”

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