A week later, Akreli.
Inside the Rockefeller Family estate, the night was dark. Heavy curtains shut out the starlight, yet the vast study was brightly lit.
Flames danced in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows.
A faint scent of sandalwood hung in the air.
"Master, our envoy has returned," the elderly butler said quietly. He stood respectfully beside the desk, his hands hanging at his sides.
The man behind the desk raised his head. His swordlike brows were sharp, his nose high, and his face stern. His complexion was pale, yet there was a cold harshness at the corner of his lips.
At those words, his brow suddenly furrowed, his gaze sharp enough to pierce the air.
"What? They refused?" His voice was low and cold, carrying a trace of impatience.
The butler hesitated briefly before nodding.
The wrinkled face looked even more haggard beneath the firelight.
"My lord, they stated outright that they will not submit to your orders!" The butler chose his words carefully, worry mixed into his gaze.
"Should we send troops directly? Or... pass this news to the Pan Family and the Christian Family, and let them take action?"
The man suddenly chuckled, mockery in his laughter, as though he had heard an absurd suggestion.
"The Pan Family? Hahaha—" He slowly shook his head, a flash of ridicule passing through his eyes. "It has been so long since Lanlost's death, yet they still have not made a single statement."
The butler remained silent, standing obediently with lowered eyes.
After a moment, he asked in a low voice, "Then... my lord, what should we do? The Christian Family publicly declared before that they would avenge Lord Adelaide..."
The man lightly tapped his fingertips against the desk. The dull sound seemed to strike directly at one's heart.
After pondering