Bonereghard seemed pleased and straightened, his bony hand extending toward the hallway. "Come with me, my lord, to the library!" he said, his hollow voice filled with sudden energy.

Silas raised an eyebrow, but curiosity outweighed his hesitation.

He followed the skeletal steward, with Diog scampering along at his side, the little mythic pup’s bright blue eyes darting around in excitement. As they passed through the grand halls, Silas considered the legacy of Dewalt Beckham, the secrets hidden within these walls, and now, the strange, dubious proposition Bonereghard had made.

They reached the library, an expansive chamber with towering shelves crammed with ancient volumes from floor to ceiling. The aroma of aged parchment and ink permeated the atmosphere.

In the center of the room, a massive desk sat, still scattered with books and notes—remnants of Dewalt’s research.

Bonereghard moved toward one of the far shelves with purpose. “The Arch Magus, your grandfather, was a master not only of magic but also of… creative financial maneuvers.” His skeletal fingers traced along the spines of the books until he pulled out an unmarked, leather-bound tome.

He set the book on the desk in front of Silas with a heavy thud. The pages were yellowed with age, but the writing was clear, and what was written was… unexpected.

Silas blinked. Financial ledgers? Not just ledgers—there were coded entries, strange sigils, and notes on how to move wealth through magical means, shielded from prying eyes. It wasn’t just about summoning creatures. It was about summoning wealth.

“This,” Bonereghard said, his voice low, “is the Arch Magus’s guide to managing wealth in a city where the state takes more than it gives. Here, you will find ways to ensure that your gold remains… your gold.”

Silas stared at the tome, his mind racing. "So you're telling me Dewalt… really. Wow."

Silas sat down at the massive desk, the leather-bound tome open before him. He traced a finger over the pages, trying to make sense of Dewalt’s cryptic notations. Bonereghard hovered nearby, his monocle glinting in the dim light.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Silas said, glancing up at the skeletal butler.

Bonereghard’s jaw seemed to clench—a feat for someone without muscles. “As you wish, my lord.”

The pages detailed complex financial strategies—some legal, others less so. Silas skimmed through entries on offshore accounts, magical loopholes, and coded transactions that would make even the most seasoned accountant’s head spin.

But one section caught his eye: “Family Trusts and Estate Protection.”

“Here,” Silas muttered, tapping the page. “This looks promising.”

Bonereghard leaned over, peering at the text with what seemed like reluctant interest. “Ah, yes. The family trust. A… lawful method of estate preservation.”

Silas grinned, sensing Bonereghard’s disdain for anything remotely legal. “If we can prove that Dewalt intended the estate to be held in a family trust rather than just my inheritance, it could significantly reduce the taxes.”

Bonereghard’s bony fingers twitched. “Indeed. However, it requires precise documentation and validation from the Arch Magus himself.”

“Let’s see what we’ve got.” Silas turned the pages carefully, finding notes on magical seals and enchanted contracts meant to establish such a trust.

“Look at this,” he said, pointing to a particularly elaborate diagram. “It’s a plan to place the estate into a perpetual trust for all Beckham heirs.”

Bonereghard huffed, an odd sound coming from a skeleton. “How… delightfully mundane.”

Silas couldn’t help but chuckle. “Not everything has to be about fraud and deception, you know.”

Bonereghard straightened his suit with exaggerated precision. “Of course not, my lord. Though I daresay fraud and deception do have their charms.”

Ignoring Bonereghard’s sarcasm, Silas continued studying the book. He found entries that outlined how Dewalt had used various artifacts and enchanted items as proof of the trust’s existence.

“Here,” Silas said triumphantly. “These enchanted items can serve as proof of Dewalt's intentions..”

Bonereghard sighed theatrically but nodded in agreement. “Very well. It seems you’ve found a… legitimate solution.”

Silas grinned widely at Bonereghard's evident dismay. "Looks like we'll be doing things by the book after all."

"How wonderful," Bonereghard replied in disappointment.

Silas sat at the massive desk, the worn tome of arcane finance laid out before him. Bonereghard loomed over his shoulder, his hollow eyes glowing faintly as they scanned the pages alongside him. Together, they sifted through Dewalt's meticulously detailed notes, an intricate blend of arcane rituals and clever accounting strategies.

“Ah, here we are,” Silas said, tapping a section of the book titled Arcane Trusts & Wealth Transference: Legal Maneuvers in Bastian’s Bureaucracy. His finger traced the words as he read aloud. “The Arch Magus didn’t intend the estate to pass directly to an heir. He wanted it to remain in a family trust, protected from excessive taxation by distributing assets across generations."

Bonereghard groaned, a deep, rattling sound of frustration. “A trust? My lord, a trust?” His skeletal hands flexed, his long bony fingers tapping impatiently against the desk. “We’re talking about… paperwork. Legal minutiae. How dreadfully dull.”

Silas smirked, his eyes lighting up as he read further. “Listen to this. If I can prove the estate was intended to operate as a trust rather than a direct inheritance, the tax burden drops significantly. And—” he glanced at Bonereghard, who looked ready to crumble from boredom—“the state won’t be able to impose inheritance tax on me directly. They’d only tax the estate’s income, and that’s manageable.”

Key Discovery:

Family Trust: By proving the estate was intended to be part of a family trust, Silas can reduce the tax burden significantly and avoid the crushing inheritance tax.

Bonereghard let out another groan, his shoulders slumping. “Yes, yes… very clever, my lord, but where is the thrill in that? No dashing evasion of the law, no creative bookkeeping in shadowy corners. Just tedious court petitions and, ugh, lawyers.” He seemed to shudder at the very thought.

Silas grinned, unable to help himself. “I think it’s genius. The estate remains protected, and I won’t have to spend the rest of my life dodging magistrates.”

Bonereghard’s head dropped dramatically, as though he were mourning the loss of some grand heist. “What a terrible waste of opportunity…”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Silas ignored him, flipping through more of the pages. The book outlined how Dewalt had established magical protections within the estate, ensuring the assets wouldn’t be easy to seize without direct family consent. Even the Gemini, the estate’s cursed armors, were technically bound to the family line, protectors of the trust, not just the physical property.

“I can present this to the magistrates,” Silas said thoughtfully, running his fingers over the old, enchanted ink. “It’s all here: the legal structure Dewalt set up. If I argue that the estate was always meant to be held in trust, not passed down through inheritance, they’ll have no choice but to lower the tax burden.”

Bonereghard let out a loud sigh. “Very well, my lord. But just know, when the time comes for a truly bold maneuver, I will be here… waiting.”

Silas laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bonereghard straightened his monocle and fixed Silas with an unyielding stare. "But to what extent do you think they'll reduce the tax burden? These things just have a habit of trading one problem for another."

Silas leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his unruly hair. "You're probably right," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "But it's worth a shot. If we can even reduce it by half, that's a significant relief."

Bonereghard's skeletal fingers drummed on the desk, the sound like distant thunder. "And if they refuse? Or worse, if they find some other loophole to exploit? The bureaucrats of Bastian are not known for their generosity, and if they cannot crush you financially, they will crush you some other way. Do not think this is a victory."

Silas sighed, feeling the weight of the estate pressing down on him like a physical force. "I know. But sitting here and doing nothing isn't an option either. We need a plan."

Bonereghard's hollow eyes seemed to study him, assessing every word and gesture. "A plan indeed, my lord. But plans require contingencies. What is your next move if this legal maneuver fails?"

Silas thought for a moment, his eyes drifting to Diog, who sat at his feet, tail wagging slightly. The young Fenrir cub seemed to sense what Silas was feeling.

“Then as you said, Bonereghard,” Silas began, his voice gaining a measure of determination, “power matters. I’ll just need more of that.” He glanced up at the skeletal butler. “What other kind of creatures did my grandfather command?”

Bonereghard's hollow sockets seemed to glimmer with a strange light as he considered Silas’s question. “Ah, yes, the Arch Magus had quite the menagerie,” he replied slowly, as if savoring the memory. “He summoned and tamed beasts from across realm, elementals, spirits, and creatures of legend.”

Silas leaned forward, eager for more details. “Like what? Give me specifics.”

Bonereghard's skeletal fingers tapped rhythmically on the desk as he seemed to sift through the memories of Dewalt's monstrous companions. "Let us see," he began, his voice dripping with a mix of nostalgia and amusement. "The Arch Magus commanded many monsters.

Silas leaned in, anticipation coursing through him. This was exactly the kind of information he needed.

"Firstly, there was the Drachenwolf. Part dragon, part wolf, it breathed fire and had scales harder than any known metal. Dewalt tamed it with a combination of sheer willpower and a particularly potent enchantment involving moonlight and wolfsbane."

He could almost imagine Diog growing into such a formidable creature one day.

"Then there was the Nachtkrapp," Bonereghard continued, "a massive, black-feathered bird with eyes that glowed like embers. Legend says it could steal the souls of those who dared look into its gaze for too long. Dewalt found it near the ruins of an ancient battlefield and bound it to his will.."

"And let's not forget the Wyrmkin," Bonereghard said, almost fondly. "A serpent-like creature, smaller than a dragon but no less deadly. Dewalt captured one from the swamps near Bastian and kept it as a guardian for some time."

Silas nodded, absorbing every detail. Each creature sounded more fantastical and dangerous than the last.

Bonereghard wasn't finished yet. "There was also the Alp, a nightmare-inducing spirit that could slip into dreams and drive men mad. Dewalt kept it bound within a mirror, using it to extract secrets from those who sought to betray him."

"An Alp?" Silas repeated..

"Indeed," Bonereghard replied smoothly. "And lastly, there was the Wolpertinger, a more whimsical creature by comparison, but no less intriguing. Part rabbit, part bird, with antlers of a stag. While not inherently dangerous, it possessed unique magical properties that Dewalt found quite useful for certain rituals, and these are just some of the monsters the Ach Magus once commanded."

“But those are not mere summons for a novice,” Bonereghard cautioned, interrupting Silas’s thoughts. “They require vast amounts of mana and intricate summoning rituals.”

Silas leaned back, trying to wrap his head around the possibilities. "Are there any of these monsters I could use now?" he asked.

Bonereghard's jaw seemed to unhinge slightly, a skeletal smirk forming. "No. Not even a little. Even if you somehow bridged the gap of knowledge and skill, the Estate simply does not have the mana production for the update."

Silas leaned back in the massive chair, staring at the tome in front of him. “I understand,” he replied quietly. “But there has to be something we can do."

The legal solution he’d uncovered seemed sound, but something gnawed at him. There had to be more to this estate than dusty paperwork and financial loopholes.

After all, Dewalt had been no ordinary man.

He glanced at Bonereghard, who stood nearby, looking positively deflated at the prospect of a straightforward, lawful solution to their problems. “Alright, Bonereghard, before I commit to anything… you mentioned earlier that my grandfather had other ways of dealing with these things. What exactly did you mean by that?”

Bonereghard’s skull tilted slightly, and he let out another one of his low, rattling sighs. “Well, my lord, if we must abandon the thrill of creative subterfuge…” He turned, pacing slowly toward one of the old library windows that overlooked the manor grounds. “There are resources the estate generates that could provide a more direct solution to your financial predicament.”

Silas raised an eyebrow. “Resources?”

The skeletal steward turned back, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly. “Yes. The estate generates mana—a resource far more valuable than gold in certain circles. The ley lines beneath the manor feed directly into the estate’s core, allowing it to produce approximately 30 mana units per week.”

Silas blinked, stunned. “The estate produces mana? And… 30 units a week?”

Bonereghard nodded, his long bony fingers gesturing toward the walls of the estate. “Indeed. Your grandfather harnessed the ley lines’ power, not just to fuel the estate’s defenses and maintain its wards but also as a source of wealth. Mana is always in demand in Bastian, particularly by summoners, mages, and various factions that require it for their operations. This estate is a mana-producing machine, my lord.”

Silas leaned forward, intrigued. “So… I could sell the mana?”

Bonereghard’s hollow eyes gleamed with something approaching excitement. “Eventually. There are many willing buyers in Bastian—whether they be merchants, mages, or even less savory individuals—who would pay handsomely for raw mana. And unlike gold, mana is produced steadily, week by week. It could easily cover the estate’s debts over time.”

Silas rubbed his chin, considering the possibilities. “And 30 units a week… How much is that worth?”

Bonereghard's skeletal grin widened. “Let’s just say, my lord, that 30 units of mana could fetch quite the price on the open market. If sold wisely, it could bring in hundreds of gold over time. And if you find the right buyers… perhaps even more.”

Silas felt a flicker of hope. “So, with the mana generated, I could pay off the taxes eventually?”

Bonereghard nodded solemnly. “Yes, my lord. Though it would take time and you’d need to carefully manage the estate’s output. The mana is currently being used to power the estate’s defenses—most notably myself and the Gemini. If you were to sell too much…”

“You mean I’d be left defenseless?” Silas asked.

He stood fully up. "As is, the Estate is fully engaged with its mana output maintaining the enchantment that keeps the Gemini defending the manor, and me managing it."

Silas opened his mouth to protest, but Bonereghard’s demeanor shifted instantly from sardonic to severe. The room seemed to grow colder as his skeletal form loomed over Silas, an air of intimidation settling heavily.

"Let me tell you something, young master," Bonereghard said, his monocole suddenly shining. "Neither myself nor the Gemini can be 'deactivated' to use the mana on something else."

The butler's hollow eyes look straight at Silas, letting him know such an action would have… consequences.

Silas felt his confidence waver under Bonereghard’s gaze. “Alright, alright,” he muttered, raising his hands in surrender. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Bonereghard asked, his tone unyielding. “Because if you think for one moment that this estate can run without its primary defenses or its steward, then you are sorely mistaken.”

Diog growled softly at Bonereghard’s intimidating presence, stepping closer to Silas as if ready to defend him.

Bonereghard softened just a fraction at the sight of Diog's protective stance. "The Estate's resources are finite, my lord," he said more calmly but no less seriously. "Our survival depends on maintaining these critical functions."

"However," Bonereghard shrugged elegantly, "Mana production of the estate can be improved, and the excess sold off."

Silas let out a slow breath as he processed this new information.. The idea of a steady income stream through mana was tempting but he couldn’t ignore the risks.

“And how would I go about boosting our mana and then selling off the rest? I can’t just walk into the market with a handful of magic.”

Bonereghard chuckled darkly.. “There are brokers, my lord,” he said with a tone suggesting he had been waiting for this question.. "Mana dealers.. Some operate publicly; others in the shadows.. I can arrange an introduction should you wish.”