Chapter 103: Craig’s Return

The flashback faded into the background as the present reality reclaimed its hold over the Western Continent.

Dark Sister’s massive, charcoal-scaled wings swept smoothly through the clouds before descending upon the majestic expanse of the Palace of Crimson.

Her heavy talons touched down upon the polished stone of the outer perimeter, kicking up a light breeze that rustled the banners of the Darkstar family.

Following her master’s explicit command, the 4th-Tier Child of the Abyss let out a low, reverberating rumble before leaping back into the sky, taking flight toward the secluded peaks of the Temple of Dragons to rest and regain her strength.

Left standing alone on the grand pathway, Craig straightened the collar of his coat, his sharp golden-crimson eyes reflecting the breathtaking spectacle of his home.

Without hesitation, he began his steady stride into the heart of the Crimson Castle.

Meanwhile, high above the pristine courtyards, within the grandest sanctuary of the gigantic fortress, the true master of the West held court.

Inside the opulent, high-ceilinged office of the Crimson Duke, Oscar von Darkstar laid back comfortably into his massive, throne-like velvet chair.

His long, dark crimson hair draped over the carved headrest, and his legs were casually crossed as he rested his chin against his propped knuckles.

The room was draped in rich tapestries, heavy darkwood paneling, and massive stained-glass windows that flooded the space with warm, golden sunlight.

Standing attentively before his sprawling mahogany desk were his two most trusted, irreplaceable aides.

The dual pillars that maintained the absolute stability of the Rynchester Duchy.

To the left stood Ser Loras Maverick, the Duke’s personal Guardian Knight.

Dressed in silver-and-crimson plate armor that bore the scars of a hundred legendary battles, the elderly knight stood as straight as a spear, his hand resting casually against the pommel of his broadsword.

To the right stood Head Butler Edgar, a distinguished, grey-haired gentleman draped in an immaculate, dark tailcoat.

As the supreme overseer of the Duchy’s vast financial networks, economic routes, and treasury disbursements, Edgar held an enormous amount of quiet authority across the continent.

Currently, Head Butler Edgar was delivering his comprehensive monthly financial report, reading smoothly from a gold-rimmed leather ledger.

"Furthermore, Your Grace," Edgar began, his calm, cultured voice cutting through the quiet office, "our long-term trade negotiations with the Euron Mining Company from the Southern Continent have been successfully concluded.

Under the new contract proceedings, the Rynchester Duchy is guaranteed to secure a minimum of one hundred tons of raw cratium per quarter, with exclusive distribution rights across the central markets."

Edgar turned a page in his ledger, continuing without a single pause. "With the autumn harvest rapidly approaching, the restructuring of the Duchy’s primary agricultural zones is proceeding ahead of schedule.

Feudal crop yield projections indicate a twenty percent increase in direct tax revenue. Overall, capital inflow into the central treasury remains exceptionally strong from all major commercial avenues."

Edgar paused slightly, his sharp, experienced eyes scanning the next entry on the parchment before his tone shifted to a more cautious register.

"However... there is one notable development. Intelligence reports confirm that both Ducal House Varax and Ducal House Greyworm have begun making aggressive moves to penetrate the regional mining industry.

Their recent acquisitions of southern trade leases suggest they intend to challenge our supply chains, which may pose a slight hindrance to Rynchester’s projected market expansion."

Duke Oscar let out a sudden, boisterous laugh, the deep, rumbling sound echoing off the high stone walls.

He exhaled a soft, amused sigh, waving his hand dismissively through the air.

"Let them try, Edgar," Oscar chuckled, a sharp, arrogant smirk touching his lips. "I would have been thoroughly disappointed if those old foxes didn’t attempt to carve out a bigger piece of the pie.

Cratium is the lifeblood of modern magical engineering, and the mining industry is booming like never before. It is only natural that neighboring Ducal Houses would grow envious while watching us monopolize the Western Continent’s entire reserve."

The Duke leaned back into his throne-like chair, his eyes gleaming with supreme confidence. "In any case, it is far too late for them to make a meaningful difference. Our infrastructure is already too massive, our contracts too deeply entrenched, and our military backing too absolute.

Their interference will amount to nothing more than minor noise. Now tell me... what does the grand total in our primary treasury look like at this moment?"

Head Butler Edgar closed the ledger with a soft, crisp snap, bowing his head respectfully.

"The current liquid capital recorded within the Ducal primary treasury accounts stands at precisely five billion, two hundred and forty million gold coins, Your Grace—excluding our unrefined mineral reserves and foreign asset holdings."

Oscar offered a satisfied nod. "Outstanding work as always, Edgar. You maintain our wealth with immaculate precision."

Shifting his gaze, the Crimson Duke turned his attention toward his Guardian Knight.

The lightheartedness vanished from Oscar’s face, replaced by a cold, sharp intensity.

"And what of our shadow hunting, Loras?" Oscar asked, his tone dropping an octave.

"Is there any fresh intelligence concerning the remnants of Hydra following the total destruction of their Western Continent branch?"

Ser Loras Maverick shook his head slowly, his weathered face grim. "Regrettably, no, My Lord. Since the complete annihilation of their mountain stronghold in the Central Region, Hydra has gone completely dark across the West.

They have severed their active communication channels, buried their sleeper agents, and retreated deep into the shadows. They are terrified to make another move."

Duke Oscar’s dark eyebrows furrowed into a tight, dangerous crease for a brief second before he exhaled a slow, cold breath.

"Fear will not save them," Oscar declared coldly, his voice echoing with absolute menace. "They made the fatal mistake of pointing their blades at my blood, and burning a single branch to the ground was merely the down payment."

Oscar sat up straight, placing both hands flat on his mahogany desk as he issued a direct, unyielding command.

"Ser Loras, expand our intelligence network immediately. I want eyes and ears deployed to investigate Hydra’s secondary branches across the Eastern, Southern, and Northern Continents.

Trace their illegal supply lines, expose their financial backers, and locate their true headquarters. This is only the beginning of our purge."

Ser Loras struck his armored chestplate with a clenched fist.

"It shall be done, Your Grace!"

Just as the Guardian Knight’s declaration faded into the quiet air of the office, a crisp, polite knock echoed against the heavy double doors of the chamber.

Head Butler Edgar immediately stepped forward, placing his hands behind his back.

"Who approaches the Duke’s private office?" Edgar inquired in a clear, authoritative tone.

From the other side of the thick mahogany doors, the clear, respectful voice of a young castle attendant answered promptly:

"Forgive the sudden interruption, Your Grace! I bring immediate word from the main courtyard steps. Lord Craig von Darkstar, the Seventh Successor, has just returned to the Crimson Castle and requests an audience!"