The nd of Zorno was a farmer’s dream—vast, fertile ndscapes with manageable soil, abundant sunlight, and virtually no natural disasters. The surrounding forest provided a unique ecosystem, housing mild-tempered, ivorous mohat kept pests and rodent-type vermin at bay.

  Among the lush and bountiful crops that the nd yielded, rice stood out as the most impressive. Thriving iropical climate, it flourished thanks to a meticulously trolled irrigation system that maintaihe ideal water depth for the paddies.

  “Phew,” Aric Beaumont sighed tentedly as he pced the st paddy iurated soil. Theuro admire his handiwork, taking in the symmetrical lines with satisfa.

  “Always the perfeist, huh?” another fellow teased, pyfully pushing the straw hat down over Aric’s eyes. “They’re gonna grow either way, y’know.”

  “Says the one whose batch performed poorly st year,” Aric murmured with a pyful grin, earning chuckles from the other folks who had gathered around.

  The man draped an arm around Aric’s shoulder with a harmless frown, pulling him close. “I thought we agreed o mention that ever again!”

  “Only if you stop critig my anizational skills,” Aric challenged, raising his straw hat, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

  The man released his tight grip and spun around theatrically, like a damsel in this distress. “But that’s one of the few joys I have in my life.”

  “Maybe if you mustered the ce to fess your love to Martha, you wouldn’t be so lonely and miserable!”

  Amidst the jovial atmosphere, the farmers’ ughter filled the air, their cheeks aglow with delight and their expressions radiant with happiness. Suddenly, the se shifted as two men arrived on horseback, their leather armor proudly dispying the crest of a noble family.

  The haughty tilt of their heads and disdainful gnces caused the farmers to ch their jaws shut and take a hesitant step back, except for one man.

  The messengers regarded him with a lighter shade of s, but as their eyes fell upon the man’s bare, mud-caked feet, and the close-knit gathering of peasants around him, their expressions darkened even further.

  “Lord Beaumont,” one of the messengers began, fighting the urge to reprimand the man for his unbeing behavior. Instead, he reached for a scroll stig out of his saddlebag. “I bring an urgent message from Lnatius Pembroke.”

  “Fet it,” Aric said dismissively, halting the man’s hand. “I don’t care what he’s this time. My answer will always remain the same. The nd of Zorno has been in the Beaumont family feions, and I have no iion of parting with it.”

  The messengers sneered, but their anger and frustration promptly transformed into smooth smiles, causing Aric to frown suspiciously. “Kindly take your leave,” he anded fidently. “And please inform Sir Pembroke that further messengers are unnecessary, as my decision is firmly set in stone.”

  The messenger scoffed, effortlessly guiding the horse with the reins to pivot it around. “Your loss,” he murmured ominously under his breath.

  The other man’s grin widened, his sidelong gaze glinting with hostility. With a swift kick, they urged their horses into a gallop, swiftly disappearing into the horizon, leaving behind a cloud of dust and an uneasy silence.

  ***

  Later that evening at the manor, Aric savored a delightful meal with his beloved wife and their seven-year-old son.

  “Are you looking forward to beginning your sword training with ander Leopold tomorrow?” He asked.

  “Hn!” The child nodded enthusiastically. “I want to be strong just like Father one day!”

  Arid his wife shared warm smiles as they watched their son beily escorted from the dining room by a female servant. But as soon as they were alohe woman’s expression turned grave.

  “I’ve heard Lord Pembroke offered another bribe,” she whispered. “ we really trust him not to resort to violence?”

  Aric held her worried gaze with a calming smile. “Pembroke may be greedy, but he’s not na?ve. With pns to quer Wavecrest Port underway, he wouldn’t squander resources on a civil war. In any case,” he reassured, tenderly cupping the side of her face, “ander Leopold has the soldiers on high alert, so there’s o fret.”

  As dusk desded into night, the guards grew increasingly vigint uhe captain’s orders. However, their vigince proved no match for the stealth and finesse of elite assassins.

  With seamless grace, the assaints infiltrated, gliding through the shadows like phantoms. A few soldiers and attendants were unfortunate enough to cross paths with the deadly intruders, meeting their demise swiftly and silently, their lifeless forms discreetly hidden away.

  “MMMMMH!” Aric’s eyes shot open in arm, startled from his slumber by the suddeion of someone forcefully c his mouth.

  Instinctively, he cast his gaze to the left, only to find his wife lying cold and motionless beside him on the bed, her blood stark against her pale white skin.

  Aric’s scream was muffled by the man’s gloved palm, fury surging through his veins. Desperation fueled his attempts to break free, but his struggles were in vain as he found himself pinned down by several other shadows.

  The man c Aric’s mouth shifted his mask slightly to the side, revealing himself as the messenger who had visited earlier. With a twisted grin, he leaned in and whispered, “Lnatius Pembroke sends his regards.”

  SWISHH!

  A sharp bde traced a lethal arc across Arieck.

  ***

  Lunarel’s throne room was a marvel of opulend power, its high, vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate paintings depig the kingdom’s glorious history. Massive pilrs lihe walls, each carved with the sigils of noble houses and ed with golden capitals that shimmered in the light of the deliers overhead. The floor was a mosaic of polished marble, refleg the light from torches and magic crystals.

  At the far end of the room, elevated on a dais, sat the king’s imposing throne, a masterpiece of craftsmanship. The king himself was seated upon it, his expression an ungraceful daze. Beside him stood his trusted minister, a shrewd advisor, always close at hand to offer sel.

  Gathered before the throhe nobles of the realm, garbed in their fi attire. Among them stood the first prince, his posture unimpressive and his eyes meek. The assembled urmured softly among themselves, the anticipation palpable.

  The minister leaned in, whispering in the king’s ear. As the man straightehe king raised a hand, and the room fell into a respectful silence.

  “Thank you all… for ing on such… short notice,” he began in a monotone, his words sounding rehearsed and far from eloquent. “As… some of you… may already… be aware—”

  Ay rippled through the gathered dignitaries as the king’s words began to slur, his eyelids fluttering, and his body slumping in his chair. Yet, amidst the ed murmurs, a disturbing number of them wore amused expressions, ominous smiles pying upon their lips. Among them stood a familiar h whom Casimir had struck a deal after allowing the man to sample his wares.

  As a few clerid servants rushed to attend to their ruler, the miepped forward with a solemn expression, his worry for his monarch evidee his efforts to maintain posure.

  Taking a calming breath, he addressed the room. “Despite our best efforts, the king remains afflicted by a mysterious illness. However, our most brilliant minds are tirelessly w on a cure. In the meantime, I will humbly act as His Majesty’s voice.”

  The prince pursed his lips unfortably.

  “To expand on the previous statement,” the man began gravely, “I regret to inform you that Lord Aric Beaumont and his family were found dead at their manor st night. We believe it was murder.”

  Gasps rippled through the gregatio once more, the ses were divided—some genuinely shocked, others knowingly terrified, and a select few oddly amused.

  “And what of his son?” One of the men asked, his eyes trembling with devastation. “Is he alright?”

  The minister shook his head sorrowfully. “…I’m afraid he perished along with his parents.”

  The man lowered his head. “No, that’s…”

  “…”

  “I assure you,” the minister began, his expression resolute, “we’ll find the monsters responsible for this atrocity and make them and their families pay the ultimate price. The Magical Forensics Guild is already iigating the crime se. It’s only a matter of time before we identify their mana signatures and trace them back to their source.

  Unfortunately, as we prepare for war, we ot address this matter as delicately as we would prefer. With no knowives to i his legad his only son lost in the age, Lord Beaumont’s assets will be transferred tnatius Pembroke, by royal decree. This includes his estate and the ey of the nd of Zorno.”

  Armed gasps and accusatazes shifted to Ignatius, but he didn’t shrink back. Instead, he fshed aatic grin that stoked both anger and fear among the onlookers.

  “Lord Beaumont was a good man,” the minister expined. “However, his lifestyle and ideologies were quite troversial. He refused to keep sves and frequently advocated for equality, even w alongside his subjects like a oner.”

  “After showing such weakness, it’s no surprise he’s dead,” scoffed one of the men.

  “I’d wager my manor he was killed by one of his own peasants,” said another. “Those mongrels won’t hesitate to bite the hand that feeds them. You have to keep them on a tight leash, or they’ll start getting ideas above their station.”

  The prince ched his teeth, his fiightly balled into trembling fists. Yet, as he felt the suffog energy radiating from the men around him, he slowly rexed his grip and averted his gaze, overe with apprehension.

  “Now, now,” the minister raised his hand dismissively. “We’re not here to cast bme. His Majesty simply wished to inform you of Lord Beaumont’s untimely passing and ence vigince, as this attack could be a preemptive strike by Wavecrest.

  Moreover, I uand some of you may be displeased with the decision to transfer Lord Beaumont’s assets, but rest assured, this clusion was reached after careful sideration.

  As many of you know, Lord Pembroke’s estate borders Lord Beaumont’s, and both are highly regarded as promi farmirepreneurs. In trast to Lord Beaumont, Lord Pembroke has pledged to take a signifit number of the surplus sves and utilize them to cultivate the vast, untapped nds of Zorno.

  This initiative will not only resolve the immediate crisis of feeding the sves until the supply is restored, but it will also create new job opportunities for citizens. Moreover, it will strehe produ of goods for the local market and boost exports abroad.

  As we brace for our eastern campaign to besiege the port town of Wavecrest and front the sea beast obstrug maritime trade, we are in dire need of individuals of Lord Pembroke’s caliber. His visionary leadership promises to elevate our kingdom to new heights of wealth and power.”

  Several of the nobles, previously ed by fear and uainty, now exged knowing gheir expressioraying an eagero receive even a portion of Ignatius’s newfound influehe minister observed them with a raised brow, a subtle smile tugging at the ers of his lips.