The office grew quieter after the Head Maid departed.
The heavy wooden door closed softly behind her, muting the distant activity of the mansion corridors once more. Outside the tall windows, the Southern night had deepened further, moonlight spreading pale silver across rooftops and courtyard stone while warm lanterns flickered against the darkness below.
Inside—
Only two people remained.
Landon.
And Kel.
The financial ledger still rested open atop the desk like evidence of something dangerous beginning to take shape.
Numbers.
Profits.
Distribution routes.
Projected expansion.
What appeared to ordinary merchants as successful trade…
To Kel—
Was merely the foundation of leverage.
Landon leaned back slightly within his chair, one hand resting against his temple as he processed the scale of everything unfolding.
Even now—
Part of it still felt unreal.
A single week.
That was all it had taken.
One week for House Veil's influence to begin spreading through mercenary guilds, merchant circles, and noble territories alike.
One week—
For the South to start paying attention.
Across from him, Kel remained calm.
Almost detached.
The warm lantern light illuminated half of his face while the other half remained hidden beneath shadow, making his expression difficult to fully read.
But Landon understood him enough by now to notice it.
Kel was thinking ahead already.
Far ahead.
Finally—
Kel spoke.
"Do not sell the potions to everyone directly."
His tone remained calm.
Matter-of-fact.
Yet the moment the words left him—
Landon straightened slightly.
Because experience had already taught him something important.
Whenever Kel spoke this quietly—
Something dangerous usually followed.
"…Then how should we proceed?"
Landon asked carefully.
Kel's fingers tapped once against the armrest beside him.
Slow.
Measured.
"Licensing."
The word settled heavily within the room.
Landon's eyes narrowed faintly.
Thinking immediately.
Kel continued.
"Do not distribute the formulas openly."
A brief pause.
"Instead…"
His gaze shifted toward the city beyond the windows.
"…license production rights selectively."
The lantern flame flickered softly between them.
"To whom?"
Landon asked.
Kel answered immediately.
"The Duke Houses."
Silence followed.
Not because the idea was impossible.
But because Landon instantly understood how ambitious it truly was.
The Three Southern Dukes were not merely nobles.
They were pillars.
Ancient powers whose influence stretched across entire territories, armies, merchant systems, and underground networks alike.
Most rising nobles spent decades trying to enter their outer circles.
Kel—
Was suggesting attaching House Veil directly to them through economic dependence.
Sairen's voice echoed softly through the soul-link.
This time carrying faint amusement.
"…You're feeding a wolf pack while standing in the middle of it."
Far away—
At Scarder Lake—
Sairen rested silently atop the mist-covered waters, observing the conversation beneath drifting silver fog.
Kel responded calmly.
"Wolves don't bite the hand supplying winter food."
Sairen tilted her head slightly.
"…Until they become hungry enough."
Kel's eyes remained fixed on Landon.
"That's why they'll compete with each other."
And suddenly—
Sairen understood.
Back inside the office—
Landon slowly leaned forward.
"…You want them dependent on House Veil."
Kel nodded once.
"But not only dependent."
A faint pause followed.
"…Invested."
The word carried terrifying weight.
Kel stood slowly from his chair and walked toward the massive territorial map hanging against the wall.
Moonlight stretched faintly across his dark clothing as he observed the Southern territories quietly.
Then—
He spoke again.
"Do you remember how we solved the Vanhart market problem?"
Landon's eyes sharpened immediately.
Of course he remembered.
Back then—
Kel had stabilized economic collapse not through direct control…
But by restructuring flow itself.
Creating competition while ensuring all major parties became too interconnected to destroy the system without damaging themselves.
Kel placed one hand lightly against the map.
"We'll apply the same principle here."
His voice lowered slightly.
"But with a twist."
The office fell silent.
Only distant wind moved beyond the windows.
"No one must suspect central control."
Kel continued.
"If House Veil monopolizes everything directly…"
A brief pause.
"…fear will unite people against us."
Landon nodded slowly.
Because that was true.
The South tolerated power.
But hated visible domination.
"So instead…"
Kel's gaze darkened slightly.
"…we let others profit."
The lantern light reflected faintly within his eyes now.
Cold.
Calculated.
"Give production licenses only to those who accept our conditions."
Landon stood as well now, fully focused.
"…Which are?"
Kel answered without hesitation.
"Seventy percent royalty from every sale."
Landon inhaled quietly.
That was enormous.
Almost insulting.
But before he could speak—
Kel continued calmly.
"And in exchange…"
A slight pause.
"…they receive exclusive access to superior formulas."
Landon immediately understood.
The potions themselves were valuable enough to justify outrageous terms.
Especially after market reaction.
Kel turned toward him fully now.
"More importantly…"
His voice lowered further.
"…they must provide protection."
The atmosphere sharpened instantly.
"Political protection."
Kel stepped closer toward the desk.
"Production security."
Another step.
"Distribution support."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Heavier.
"And through that…"
Kel's tone softened faintly.
"…your position stabilizes naturally inside Duke circles."
Landon's eyes widened slightly.
Not from fear.
But realization.
Because this was bigger than business.
Much bigger.
If multiple Duke factions became financially tied to House Veil's potion trade…
Then attacking Landon politically would also threaten their profits.
Meaning—
They would defend him themselves.
Kel continued calmly.
"Within two years…"
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"…you can realistically rise to Count."
Silence.
Heavy.
Absolute.
Even Landon—
Who had already climbed impossibly fast—
Felt his heartbeat tighten slightly hearing those words.
Count.
Not Viscount.
Not Baron.
Count.
A true high-ranking noble position.
Sairen's voice echoed softly through the soul-link again.
"…You're building him into something dangerous."
Kel answered quietly.
"He already is."
Landon exhaled slowly.
Trying to process the scale of everything.
Then—
Another thought struck him.
"…What about the black market?"
Kel's faint smile returned.
Small.
Sharp.
"There it is."
Landon immediately understood he had reached the next layer.
Kel moved toward the desk again and opened one of the Southern trade reports casually.
"Official trade alone limits growth."
He spoke calmly.
"The South's true economy exists underground."
A faint silence followed.
Because both men knew it was true.
Illegal beast material trade.
Smuggled magic artifacts.
Underground fighting arenas.
Assassination contracts.
Restricted medicines.
Everything moved through hidden networks.
And those networks generated absurd amounts of wealth.
Kel tapped the report once.
"So…"
A brief pause.
"…we let others dirty their hands for us."
The lantern flame flickered violently for a second.
"License only five major groups."
Landon listened carefully.
"Three Duke factions."
Kel counted calmly.
"And two merchant nobles with underground connections."
His voice remained calm.
But every word felt precise enough to cut.
"They handle distribution."
Another pause.
"They handle black market circulation."
And finally—
"They absorb political suspicion."
Landon slowly understood the full structure now.
House Veil would appear clean.
Professional.
Legitimate.
While licensed partners secretly expanded profits through underground sales themselves.
Meaning—
Everyone earned.
Everyone protected the system.
And nobody could expose it safely…
Without exposing themselves too.
Kel leaned slightly against the desk.
"They earn dirty money."
His voice lowered faintly.
"We earn white money."
The room fell silent again.
But this time—
The silence felt colder.
Because what Kel described wasn't simple business anymore.
It was economic architecture.
A system carefully designed to spread dependence across the South itself.
Sairen remained quiet for several moments before finally speaking softly.
"…You're turning greed into chains."
Kel's gaze drifted toward the moonlit city beyond the windows.
The Southern capital shimmered beneath darkness like a kingdom built atop hidden knives.
Then—
He answered.
"No."
A brief pause followed.
"I'm turning ambition into loyalty."**
Landon stared at him silently.
And once again—
He felt it.
That unsettling realization.
Kel never merely reacted to the world.
He reshaped it.
Quietly.
Patiently.
Like someone moving pieces across a board only he could fully see.
Outside—
The Southern night deepened further.
Merchant guilds whispered about House Veil.
Duke factions investigated quietly.
Black market brokers already searched for access routes.
And somewhere within the growing mansion of a newly risen Viscount—
A future powerful enough to shake the Aurelia Empire itself…
Was being designed beneath lantern light and shadow.