The conference chamber remained silent after Kel finished speaking.
Not ordinary silence.
Heavy silence.
The kind created when powerful people suddenly realized the conversation before them had become far larger than expected.
Lantern flames flickered softly across the darkwood walls while moonlight spilled through towering windows overlooking the Southern capital below. Outside, the city still celebrated beneath music and wine, unaware that above them—
The structure of the South itself was beginning to shift.
The nobles remained seated around the massive oval table, yet the atmosphere had changed completely now.
Earlier—
They viewed this meeting as a business negotiation.
A profitable arrangement surrounding potion distribution.
Now—
It felt political.
Historical.
Dangerous.
Because Heral had transformed the conversation from profit…
Into legacy.
Sairen's voice echoed softly through the soul-link.
"…Their emotions changed."
Far away—
At Scarder Lake—
Silver mist drifted endlessly around Sairen while she observed the chamber through Kel's senses.
Kel answered internally.
"Now comes the important part."
Because everything until now—
The seventy percent royalty.
The emotional speech about Southern humiliation.
The rebuilding initiative.
All of it—
Had only been preparation.
The true objective of tonight…
Had not yet been revealed.
Kel quietly observed the chamber.
Every noble currently lost within thought.
Some calculating potential profits.
Some imagining political consequences.
Some unconsciously envisioning a stronger South already.
Perfect.
Their minds were open now.
Which meant—
It was time.
Kel stepped slightly forward once more beneath the golden lanternlight.
And immediately—
The room's attention returned toward him.
Even the Three Dukes watched silently now.
Kel's calm voice echoed through the chamber.
"However…"
A slight pause followed.
"…if everyone still finds the seventy percent royalty structure difficult to accept…"
Several merchant nobles immediately straightened slightly.
Hope flickered across certain expressions.
He's changing the terms?
Kel's gaze remained calm.
Measured.
"Then House Veil is willing to reduce the royalty requirement…"
Another pause.
"…to fifty-five percent."
The room visibly shifted.
Several nobles almost relaxed instinctively.
Merchant Counts exchanged quick glances.
Even the earlier irritated nobles visibly softened.
But then—
Kel continued.
"In exchange…"
The atmosphere tightened instantly again.
"…all participating Southern noble factions must allocate thirty percent of their monthly profits…"
His eyes slowly swept across the room.
"…toward rebuilding the South."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The nobles froze.
Not because the idea sounded impossible.
But because suddenly—
They understood.
The thirty percent restoration contribution earlier…
Was never symbolic.
It was infrastructure.
Count Veridan's fingers slowly tightened around his wine glass.
And inwardly—
A chill crawled down his spine.
You terrifying bastard.
Because now he saw it clearly.
The original seventy percent royalty was bait.
Pressure.
A trigger designed to create discomfort large enough that the reduced fifty-five percent option felt reasonable emotionally.
Even though—
The real objective was never the royalties.
It was the collective Southern contribution system.
Sairen softly laughed through the soul-link.
"…There it is."
Kel remained calm internally.
"Yes."
Around the table—
The nobles had begun realizing it too.
Duke Altair Valemont
Altair slowly leaned back within his chair.
And for the first time tonight—
A genuine smile nearly appeared.
Monster.
Not insult.
Recognition.
Because this structure…
Was brilliant.
Terrifyingly brilliant.
The reduced royalty percentage made House Veil appear compromising.
Reasonable.
Generous even.
Meanwhile—
The real power shifted elsewhere entirely.
Toward centralized Southern development funding.
He never cared about potion profits alone.
Altair's eyes sharpened faintly toward Kel.
He's building a regional power structure.
And perhaps most dangerous of all—
He was building it through voluntary agreement.
Duchess Seraphine Elthorn
Seraphine slowly exhaled inwardly while watching Kel beneath the lanternlight.
And suddenly—
Her chest tightened again.
Not romantically this time.
Strategically.
He's rewriting Southern politics.
Not through war.
Not through rebellion.
Through economics.
Identity.
And infrastructure.
The realization thrilled her slightly.
Because what Kel proposed tonight…
Could genuinely transform the South within a decade.
And yet—
The true brilliance lay deeper.
If nobles contributed financially toward rebuilding efforts…
Then eventually—
They would emotionally invest in Southern unity itself.
You manipulative beautiful devil.
Her pale eyes lingered on him quietly.
Duke Kael Draven
Kael Draven finally moved slightly within shadow.
The first visible movement he made in several minutes.
His gray eyes remained fixed toward Kel now.
Far more intensely than before.
Because unlike the others—
Kael understood something different.
This man…
Thought long-term.
Dangerously long-term.
Not like merchants.
Not like nobles.
Like rulers.
And for the first time in years—
Kael felt genuine curiosity toward politics again.
Meanwhile—
Within the chamber—
The nobles had begun whispering quietly among themselves.
Not angrily.
Carefully.
"Thirty percent monthly allocation…"
"That's enormous…"
"But if the South actually improves…"
"Road systems alone would increase trade profits eventually…"
"And monster suppression funding…"
"Safer merchant routes…"
The room had entered calculation phase now.
Exactly as Kel intended.
Then—
He delivered the final strike.
"To ensure proper distribution of rebuilding resources…"
His voice remained calm.
"…a governing structure would naturally become necessary."
The chamber quieted instantly again.
Count Veridan's eyes widened faintly.
No way.
Kel continued smoothly.
"A Southern Noble Council."
The words echoed through the room like thunder beneath silence.
Several nobles visibly stiffened.
Others leaned forward slightly.
Even the Dukes themselves sharpened subtly now.
Because this—
Was no longer business.
This was institutional power.
Kel calmly continued.
"The council would determine how rebuilding funds are distributed."
A faint pause.
"Road expansion."
"Defense fortifications."
"Trade infrastructure."
"Monster suppression."
"Regional safety."
His eyes moved slowly across the gathered nobles.
"And most importantly…"
A slight pause followed.
"…all allocated funds would be restricted solely toward improving the South."
No personal luxury.
No hidden siphoning.
No political misuse.
At least officially.
The room had become frighteningly still now.
Because everyone understood the implications.
A unified Southern council…
Would create collective political identity.
And eventually—
Collective political influence.
Duke Altair slowly thought inwardly—
If this succeeds…
The South would stop behaving like fractured territories competing endlessly against each other.
It would become coordinated.
Stronger.
Dangerously stronger.
Kel calmly folded his hands behind his back.
"If the honored nobility present agrees…"
His voice remained steady.
"…then tonight we may establish the foundation of the Southern Noble Council."
No one spoke immediately.
Because the scale of what he proposed had become enormous.
Not merely potion distribution.
Not merely economic reform.
A governing institution.
A unified Southern development structure.
And somewhere deep inside the chamber—
Several nobles finally realized something terrifying.
This meeting itself…
Had never truly been about House Veil.
It was about the future shape of the South.
Sairen's voice echoed softly through the soul-link.
"…And eventually…"
A faint pause.
"…this council falls under the influence of the Three Dukes."
Kel's eyes remained calm beneath lanternlight.
"Naturally."
And eventually—
When Landon rose further…
House Veil itself would stand among them.
Which meant—
Without ever sitting on a throne…
Kel would quietly place his hands around the political heartbeat of the entire Southern Territory.
And the most terrifying part?
The nobles themselves…
Were beginning to want it.