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With a final, lingering look at Shay, David straightened his shoulders and rapped his knuckles against the imposing wooden door. The rhythm of his heartbeat echoed in his ears, a counterpoint to the expectant silence beyond.

"Yes, come in." A deep, authoritative voice, like the rumble of distant thunder, granted him entry. The door creaked open, inviting him into the sanctum of power.

The door closed behind him with a soft thud as he took a few steps toward the Earl, who was seated at his desk. Beside the desk was a stack of books, and in his hand, Lord Hilton held a parchment paper. David could see the writing on the back slightly glowing.

Lord Hilton read the contents of the paper without paying David much attention. After a painfully long minute, he finally pointed at a seat opposite his desk, still not sparing a glance at David.

David knew the Earl was formidable—terrifyingly so. This man had slain an Elder dragon, creatures in Ternion revered as the first race granted dominion by the sovereign. And not just any dragon, but an Elder, rumoured to carry traces of the silent and dead sovereigns.

The air around Lord Hilton was dense with power, yet David managed to withstand it...somehow. He had faced powerful individuals on Earth, though none could shatter mountains with a mere swing of their blade.

"You\'ve been to Willowmere, so I\'ve read," Lord Hilton broke the silence, placing the parchment paper on his desk.

"Yes, I have," David replied calmly.

"Interesting..." the Earl mused aloud.

An aura, insidious and suffocating, seeped from the Earl. Men of lesser will would have crumbled, their spirits broken. But David, tempered in the crucible of adversity, stood unyielding. The Earl\'s gaze, a cold laser, scanned him, searching for vulnerabilities.

"Usually, when I release my aura, both you and your second brother struggle to speak," Lord Hilton began, throwing David off track.

"Even from our previous meeting, you\'re still the same... no, not the same. You\'ve grown even more," the Lord revealed, his words causing David to remain on high alert. "It\'s like you are trained to compose your demeanour even in the face of... death," The pressure intensified, a tangible weight on David\'s shoulders.

He was right. David had spent countless hours training to never succumb to fear or panic, keeping his mind optimal for any occasion. Even now, David stood resolute when the Lord\'s aura could make any awakened individual sweat and struggle to breathe.

Doubt, a venomous serpent, slithered into the Lord\'s mind. "Are you truly David?" His voice, a dagger dipped in suspicion, pierced the air. David, his hand hovering near the edge of revelation, met the challenge with a mask of tranquillity. "Why would I not be, my Lord?" His voice, a counterpoint to the Lord\'s accusation, was laced with feigned innocence.

Behind the mask, however, a silent promise hung in the air. Luna, a spectral guardian, was ready. Frostfang, a weapon of last resort with the spell [Death Reversal], was within reach. The stage was set for a confrontation, a dance of shadows and steel. but even with all that would he survive?

The tempestuous aura, a living thing of oppression, abruptly dissipated. The air, once thick with tension, became breathable once more. "Huh," Lord Hilton, the storm\'s architect, exhaled, a visible disappointment etched on his weathered face. "It seems I\'ve gotten too old to recognize your accomplishments," Lord Hilton began, his tone softening.

"It is not strange for a man such as yourself not to change when you are on the brink of death," he continued, his voice thoughtful as David listened attentively. It was a relief that the Earl had drawn his own conclusion, or the situation could have taken a turn that would not have been favourable to David.

"I only have one question," Lord Hilton stated, his gaze piercing.

"I will answer to the best of my capabilities," David replied, his demeanour steady.

"How did you awaken with no talent?" the Earl asked, his tone serious. This time, he wanted the answer directly from David rather than conjuring one himself.

David, a tightrope walker, balanced on the precipice of truth and deception, gave the only reasonable response he could come up with. "It just happened my Lord," he replied, his voice a steady drumbeat in the chamber\'s silence.

He certainly wasn\'t going to reveal his skill that could literally take cultivators\' souls and convert them into power.

The Lord, a hawk scanning the horizon, searched for the elusive truth. Finding none, he leaned back, a silent acknowledgement of defeat. The storm had passed, leaving in its wake a sense of uneasy truce. Fate, it seemed, held the key to this enigma, a lock yet to be unlocked.

"Very well," the Earl declared, his tone decisive. "You will remain at the main estate of your own accord," he directed. "Furthermore, you will be allowed to participate in the Coming of Age ceremony," he concluded.

David furrowed his brow in confusion. "Coming of Age ceremony?" he echoed, the unfamiliar term lingering in the air.

Lord Hilton, noting David\'s bewilderment, elaborated, "It\'s understandable that you have not heard of the Blessing Ceremony. Every person bearing the name Gor is given a chance to participate and acquire a blessing from the goddess." He paused, ensuring David grasped the significance before continuing.

"The blessings bestowed by the goddess determine your role both within the family and the Solarian Empire."

A spark ignited within David. A path, previously shrouded in mist, began to reveal itself. The ceremony was a key, promising to unlock doors to power and influence. The word "role" resonated deeply within him. So that\'s how I get my role, he mused inwardly. He had often pondered how he would secure the role function in the system, and the answer had just been handed to him through this ceremony.

"Lord, when is the ceremony?" David inquired a new sense of urgency in his voice.

"In two weeks," Lord Hilton replied. "Additionally, I will grant two favours to the top contender," he added, the weight of his words heavy with promise.

David\'s mind raced with possibilities. The Coming of Age ceremony was not just a rite of passage but a pivotal event that could shape his future. The blessings could provide him with invaluable advantages, and the favours from Lord Hilton could be the key to unlocking even greater potential.

"You may leave now, David. If you have any questions regarding the ceremony seek Sendric."

David nodded, a respectful bow to the Earl before turning to leave the lavish office. As he walked away, he felt the weight of the encounter lift from his shoulders. The exchange had been fraught with danger, but he had navigated it successfully. The next two weeks would be crucial. He would need to prepare, to ensure he was ready to claim not just a blessing but the top spot.

The courtyard welcomed him back with its serene charm, a stark contrast to the intense scrutiny of the Earl\'s chamber. David\'s thoughts drifted back to Shay and their interrupted moment. He longed to reunite with her, to feel her warmth and presence again.

As he made his way through the stone-paved pathways, he couldn\'t help but feel a sense of determination. The future held many uncertainties, but with his knowledge and the allies he had, David was ready to face whatever came his way. The ceremony also held secrets and power that he would exploit to the fullest.

The grand statue of the goddess of reservation stood tall in the courtyard, a silent guardian of the De Gor family. David glanced at it, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. With each step, he was more resolved to protect those he cared about and to navigate the treacherous waters of his new life with unwavering resolve.

****

Left alone in the dimly lit office, Lord Hilton\'s thoughts drifted to a distant past, a memory that kept him anchored amidst the chaos and decline. "Mekala, I don\'t think I can go on," he murmured aloud, the silence his only companion in the grand chamber. His voice, tinged with weariness, echoed off the stone walls, a stark contrast to the resolute exterior he showed the world.

"Have I failed as a father and a lord?" he pondered, the weight of his responsibilities pressing heavily upon him. The room, adorned with relics of a storied lineage, offered no answers, only a solemn stillness that seemed to deepen his solitude.

Beyond the walls of the estate, something ominous was unfolding, a storm brewing on the horizon. Lord Hilton could sense it, a foreboding presence that whispered of impending danger. His instincts, honed by years of leadership and battle, warned him to be prepared.

"I should hunt," he concluded, the decision bringing a semblance of clarity to his troubled mind. The act of hunting, a primal and cathartic endeavour, offered a temporary escape and a chance to sharpen his senses. It was a way to reconnect with his inner strength, to confront the turmoil within and without.

As he stood, the imposing figure of the Earl cast a long shadow across the room. The weight of his legacy and the uncertainties of the future loomed large, but for now, he had a purpose. The hunt would provide a brief respite, a moment to gather his thoughts and steel himself for the challenges ahead.

With a final, lingering glance at the fading light filtering through the stained glass windows, Lord Hilton steeled his resolve. The path forward was fraught with peril, but he would face it head-on, driven by the memory of Mekala and the unyielding duty to his family and realm.