Although the young son of the marquess was angered by Alex's lack of respect in leaving without his permission, the translator's gaze told him that if he tried to follow, he would face the consequences. While he could annoy the other servants of the villa as much as he wanted, the high-ranking members of his father's staff were beyond his reach.

Finally, he decided to do the only thing he could do. He didn't quite understand what this payment Alex had mentioned was all about, but it occurred to him that if they could cancel or expedite the agreement, Alex might leave more quickly. So, along with his brothers, they began to snoop around this transaction, and soon they realized several things.

Firstly, the transaction didn't seem very complicated from their point of view. It would be quite easy to speed up the purchases. In fact, there was a detailed plan on how and when to buy. However, they simply disregarded the schedule and ordered all the purchases for the next few days. In doing so, they resolved Alex's problem and created a big problem for their father.

After all, if his children had taken a few minutes to think about why there was a schedule or why the purchases were intended for different places and different sources, they would have realized that the young human was quite important. Quickly, the other powers in the city noticed the major movement of goods by the marquess's family. Understandably, the marquess also noticed the commotion caused by the significant movement of goods in his name. Although it would be quite easy to cancel it all, he couldn't do so without Alex finding out since he was already informed.

Marquess Rhenar sat in an office much more luxurious than what he usually used. It wasn't in his villa; it was designed to meet the standards of high society, very different from his personal minimalist interests.

"So, Rhenar, who is this bastard of yours that you tried to keep so inconspicuous?" said a coquettish elf with a giggle.

"My bastards are none of your concern," Rhenar responded without taking offense.

"We know he's not your bastard. After all, he's been parading around the city with gnolls. I can't believe someone from the ancient Rhea lineage would stoop to the company of outcasts," said another elf, possessively placing his hands on the previous elf's hips.

"My lineage is none of your concern," Rhenar replied, this time annoyed.

The elf couple gave a satisfied smile at Rhenar's reaction. They both enjoyed the misfortune of this marquess. It was a kind of satisfaction in seeing others suffer the same way you did.

"Enough of that. We came here to discuss other matters, Rhenar. The Kron are extremely agitated, and their activity in the region has become extremely hostile," said a person with scaly, bluish skin.

Stolen novel; please report.

"And what does that have to do with me, Councilor?" Rhenar replied calmly.

"We know you've paid your Kan dust quota to the empire. The only way to obtain so much so quickly is by taking it from the Kron," said the Councilor of the Men of the Sea.

"You have no proof of that, Councilor," Rhenar said.

"Not yet, but when we do, you should know that you'll be expelled from this city for putting us in danger," the Councilor commented.

The elf couple couldn't be more pleased. It seemed like they were having an almost orgasmic experience, seeing the marquess's face of desperation. They couldn't help but laugh as they left the room, leaving Rhenar with his head down in defeat.

However, as soon as the doors closed, Rhenar's attitude changed as if he had never been bothered in the first place.

"The council meeting couldn't have gone better. Hahaha, who would have thought our fortune would change so abruptly, that the forest's fortunes would come to our very doorstep," the marquess said with good humor.

"They didn't come on their own, my lord. It was the young Tirquendi-blood who brought it here. It would be wise not to forget that he charged us interest for his services," the butler replied.

"There's no merit in dealing with him. If his family doesn't say anything, neither will we. And the price was well worth it. You know, even though there's a market price for Kan dust, it's really a scam because no one would actually sell such a thing. It was a real stroke of luck that we got it first," the marquess replied.

Although for the butler, there was still great merit in dealing with the young man, it was clear that the marquess was reluctant to do so for one reason or another. So he told himself to forget about the matter and changed the topic of conversation.

"Do you think the young human has a chance?" the butler asked.

"Common sense says he shouldn't have a chance."

"And yet?"

"And yet, he showed up with Kan dust in our faces, and a large dose at that, at least 20 times what is given to an elite soldier."

"What does that imply, my lord?"

"That the young man killed at least 20 elite Kron or assaulted royalty. Whichever it is, it's clear that the boy is determined to wage war against the Kron."

"In some way, I still feel that either of those scenarios is impossible. Royalty, even if they left all their escorts behind, is still a meticulously trained Kron."

"And that's exactly what has me intrigued. Although the young man is quite skillful, and I'm sure he's hiding a few aces up his sleeve, I doubt he has the power required to accomplish such a feat. Yet, the results speak for themselves."

"It's possible that he stole it from others, or he was an opportunist."

"Even in those situations, although to a lesser extent, he would still have considerable merit. After all, the forest is not to be taken lightly. Many have marched to conquer it, but very few have returned to tell its horrors."

"It seems that the lord is becoming interested in the boy."

"Haha, it's the thirst for adventure, it makes my blood boil. Do you remember when we were free, facing life recklessly?"

"Of course, I do, my lord. Those were good times," the butler said, and both of them looked out of the window, lost in contemplation.

After losing themselves for a few minutes reminiscing about old glories, the marquess couldn't help but ask, "Who do you think did sabotage it?"