News of Sir Veldom's disgrace and downfall spread through Venuce like wildfire.
Within minutes, whispers filled every alley and noble hall, carrying the tale of a noble young master who had cut down a city guard and walked unchallenged through the gates.
People who once bowed to Sir Veldom's tyranny now whispered Kyle's name with awe and reverence.
Some feared him, others admired him, but all agreed on one thing—he was not someone to be trifled with.
By the time Kyle reached Sir Veldom's mansion, the staff had already prepared to welcome him as the new authority.
His carriage was guided inside without delay, and Queen remained in its bed, tail curled protectively around the dragon egg.
It lazily opened one eye before closing it again, content in the warmth and safety.
Kyle stepped down from the carriage and was greeted not by servants, but by three elegantly dressed women—Sir Veldom's wives.
Despite the sudden change in their circumstances, all three wore calm, graceful smiles. They bowed in unison.
"Welcome, Young Master. It is an honor to receive you in our home."
The first wife said. Her voice was smooth and composed.
"You don't seem too upset about your husband's… fate."
The second wife chuckled softly, covering her mouth with a fan.
"There's little to mourn, Young Master. Veldom was not a kind man. He treated us and this house as tools to show off his power."
"You've done the city a favor. And us, too. So no, we are not angry."
Kyle narrowed his eyes slightly. Their smiles didn't quite reach their eyes.
These women were no ordinary wives.
To have survived in the household of a greedy and manipulative man like Sir Veldom meant they were clever, resilient—and opportunistic.
He followed them into the mansion.
The interior was lavish, filled with evidence of wealth and indulgence, but under the surface, Kyle sensed tension in every corner.
Servants stepped lightly, guards avoided eye contact. The power vacuum was obvious.
That evening, dinner was a formal affair.
Kyle was seated at the head of the table, with the three wives and their children joining him.
The first wife's son, a serious-looking boy of around twelve, sat closest to Kyle. The second and third wives' daughters, both younger, sat quietly, stealing glances at Kyle with a mix of curiosity and unease.
After the meal, the first wife delicately raised her wine glass.
"Young Master, since my late husband never named a successor… would you be so kind as to choose who among our children shall lead the family and inherit the business?"
All eyes turned to Kyle.
He leaned back in his chair, gaze steady as he examined each child.
He could already see it—if he named one child, the other two would be targeted.
Poison, accidents, disappearances. There would be bloodshed before any heir could truly take control.
And if he chose none, the wives would fight among themselves and tear the family apart trying to put their child forward.
"No. I won't name a successor at this moment."
The wives blinked in surprise. The first wife spoke.
"Then… what will happen to the business?"
"I will take all three children under my banner. They will be trained and tested fairly. The one who proves to be the most capable shall be named the successor."
The third wife frowned slightly.
"And if something were to… happen to one of them?"
Kyle's eyes turned sharp, and his tone grew cold.
"If even one child dies under unnatural circumstances, then none of the three will inherit. The business and all assets will be seized by me and repurposed for the Armstrong house."
Even the children seemed to understand the gravity of his words.
The wives froze. In that moment, Kyle saw it clearly—they were already recalculating.
Shifting mental gears.
None of them had expected Kyle to see so clearly through the power play.
Now, alliances would be made behind closed doors, not to eliminate rivals, but to keep each child alive until the contest ended.
He stood from the table.
"You have until the end of the year. If your children wish to earn their future, they'll do so under my rules."
With that, Kyle left the dining hall, his cloak trailing behind him like a shadow.
Behind him, the three wives remained seated—no longer calm, no longer composed. They began whispering among themselves.
Kyle was shown to his room on the top floor of the mansion, a spacious chamber that once belonged to Sir Veldom himself.
It was adorned with fine tapestries and ornate furniture, each piece an obvious display of the former owner's vanity. Kyle barely spared it a glance.
Queen had already curled up near the fireplace, its tail tucked neatly around the egg. The firelight reflected softly in its eyes before it slowly closed them, content.
Kyle placed his sword within arm's reach before removing his outer cloak and settling into the high-backed chair by the window.
From there, he could see the courtyard below, dimly lit and guarded by the estate's own soldiers—now under his command.
The city was calmer now, no more buzzing with Sir Veldom's influence, only the hushed tension of people adjusting to a new ruler.
A soft knock came at the door.
Melissa and Bruce stepped inside, both with calm but serious expressions.
Melissa held a thin booklet—her notes from surveying the estate—while Bruce closed the door behind them.
"We've finished inspecting the grounds, Young Master. The estate is secure. The guards are untrained and lax, but loyal enough when given proper direction. Most of the staff are relieved Veldom is gone."
"No signs of resistance so far. I've noted a few servants who might be passing messages to outside merchants, though. I'll keep an eye on them."
Kyle gave a quiet nod.
"Good. Keep pressure light, but constant. Let them know we're watching."
There was a pause before Melissa suddenly frowned and stepped forward.
"Young Master… why did you give these people a chance to manage the business? You could've taken all of it for yourself. They're not trustworthy. Why let them stay involved?"
She asked, her voice edged with confusion.
Bruce answered before Kyle could.
"Because our Young Master has a war to prepare for. And a territory to manage. He can't run a business empire and raise armies at the same time. But loyal allies who benefit from our strength? That's a resource worth more than gold."
Melissa pouted slightly.
"Still… you could have just ordered them to pay tribute. Or seized everything and put your own people in charge."
Kyle looked at her for a moment, then spoke softly.
"Not everyone is loyal like you, Melissa. Most people aren't born with it. Loyalty has to be built—shaped—over time. If I'd just taken everything and left them with nothing, they'd have turned on me the moment things got hard. But now… their future, their children's futures, are tied to me."
He turned to the fire, watching Queen twitch in its sleep.
"By giving them a chance, I've created a path. One they'll hesitate to betray."
Melissa lowered her eyes, flushed with embarrassment but also quiet pride. Bruce simply smiled.
Their young master hadn't just claimed power—he'd secured it.