Author's note: So, this is a bit weird. The next ten to eleven chapters might be a bit more chaotic and messy, with more mistakes, since I wrote them while working in the laboratory and having an exam phase. As such, you were warned, and I apologize in advance.
...
Who was the Silver-Tail household? A Guard Household situated on the borders of Moorgrel, reigning for thousands of years and protecting their territory from demons, humans, and dwarves. A Knightage that came into existence from one of the descendants of Huxia Nine-Fire, Fabio F. Nine-Fire, or with his later given title, Silver-Tail, due to his fully silvery fur. He earned the family name through merits by slaughtering multiple nobles inside the dwarven and gnome territory as he rampaged through it due to his [Divinity Line] going berserk.
However, besides their military power, their other specialty was mediation, as they always tried to ease the tensions between the excentric Guard Households, Leonandra, Nine-Fire, and Cold-Snout, and the more stoic ones: Iron-Claw, Feather-Paw, and Heart-Fire. Their calm approach to building bridges also extended to the nobility from central Mal-Gil.
Sadly, their reputation and trust toward them slowly declined over the last decades because of the current Lord and Lady. Yet, one of those descendants wanted to change all this. A proud and rage-filled dog-kin (Golden Retriever) stood before the current Lady inside the throne room of the Silver-Tail estate. His clothes were drenched in blood, his entire body injured, but his expression showed not a slinge of exhaustion, only unmeasurable hatred.
He walked forward through a sea of corpses which were, before all this catastrophe, loyal soldiers and guards. Every time he breathed in, he tasted iron. The air was saturated by desperation, blood, and fear.
When the descendant stood before the throne, he showed his Father's head to the current Lady of the Household. Being held by his hair, the former Lord's last expression was of dread and anguish, probably knowing that these were his last moments. There was also no cold-bloodedness involved, as the head had no clear cut from a sword but was ripped apart from the body with an unimaginable force.
The descendant was out for blood, and his aura told it as a massive amount of killing intent continuously leaked out of him. He was angry and frustrated. Nobody trusted them anymore to mediate disputes, notaries trade agreements, or just, in general, wanted anything to do with them inside their social circles. They isolated themselves, and on the throne was sitting the person whose fault it was that their fief declined to such a pitiful state.
His brown eyes were cold, staring at the Lady, but his smile was genuine as he slowly succumbed to the madness he had felt for his whole life. When the realization came to grasp his already feeble mind, he had already killed his distant and aloof Father. A notion too unreal, so only madness and hysteria became his shield.
The Lady stood up and looked at him, full of fear and arrogance, "Bartholomew, do you really think this will end well for you? A coup d'État on me is nothing like raising the blade against the Duchess Zarmanas!"
Bartholomew's smile vanished, "I don't think so, Mother. You reigned long enough to bring us to the brink of collapse. Our people are starving while we have barely enough treasury left after your ridiculous corruption. Do you think I don't know how you tried to siphon all the money out of us just to give it to your disgusting branch family?"
The Lady looked at him more intensely, "Dear Bartholomew, know your place! If you even harm a hair on my bo..."
Before she could end the sentence, he yelled, his voice carrying an aura of visible killing intent, "Enough! I made my choice, and even Grandfather couldn't overlook this anymore. I will take over the fief and cleanse it from all the disgusting parasites you brought in!"
After ending the sentence, a ridiculous amount of demonic energy crept out of the young man. All his brown-goldish hair started to float upwards slowly. The floor under him began to crack, and his whole body started to turn into a demonic monstrosity.
He smelled her fear. It was captivating to him as she was the one who drove not only their fief into the ruin but also him. Since she married his Father and gave birth to him, a dog-kin with their Silver-Tail [Divinity Line], she has done everything to keep him in check.
Attempt after attempt, aiming for his life even before his legacy, which he only survived with an enormous amount of fortune, sending him to the front even before his first mating season, which he barely endured, only to come back after ten years and got sent to The Slaughterer so that he would break under her ridiculous training.
Every time he glanced into the abyss, he came back. Stronger and more hungry for revenge. Bartholomew was beside Marisia S. Leonandra, the strongest of the younger generation, and it showed. He was Tier 3 while easily killing multiple Tier 4s, like his Father and his personal guards. He was the embodiment of the first Silver-Tail—a monster.
Sadly though, his siblings, who were all mice-kin, though never even held a sword in their life, were now nothing more than corpses with detached heads—those he would send to the Duchess. Bartholomew never wanted to hurt them, but it needed to be done. He needed to cleanse his bloodline from the dirty blood of his Mother. It was a disgrace and risk he couldn't let live. Everyone needed to be killed so he could rebuild their fief.
However, he never truly hated them. The only person his killing intent aimed at was the woman in front of him—the one who made his Father her puppet and the one who forced Bartholomew to kill him brutally.
'Old fool.'
Thinking about his old man, he slowly became more enraged, fueling his already ridiculous transformation into a wild demonic beast he slew and drank its blood. His clothes started to rip apart as he grew, and his skin gradually turned as hard as Orachilum, taking on blackish scales. His face disappeared, and in its place emerged an enormous maw full of sharp teeth that could slice fully equipped knights in half. His arms, legs, and tail all elongated, giving him the appearance of a puppet, but instead of strings, he had claws that could rip apart fortress walls—a monster born out of desperation and challenges.
Bartholomew took one step, and his muscles exploded, which created a shockwave. He barely could hold onto his sanity as all he wanted was death- the death of the particular individual in front of him. Yet, he wanted her to fear him in the last moments of her life, to the point she would beg for death.
Her voice became fearful, slipping into despair with every moment she looked at him, "You monster..."
The monster Bartholomew became was something nightmares were made of. He stood before her at a height of 5 meters (~16 ft), emitting an aura that brought desperation and terror into other's hearts. He was a true Silver-Tail and the worst nightmare for his Mother, who shivered and teared up seeing him like this, "No..."
It was enough. Bartholomew swung once with his enormously long arm at the throne. One hit and it was over. The whole throne room rumbled as the Lady became nothing more than mush. He smashed her to the ground and, with her, the throne, which was nothing but an eyesore to him.
'Not enough.'
He got his revenge, but it wasn't enough. The humiliation he experienced was deep in his bones, and he needed an outlet. He needed to free himself from this, 'Zarmanas.'
Bartholomew decided. He would go after every household affiliated with the Duchess Zarmanas. He would rob and plunder, kill and slaughter everyone in their families till he felt it was enough.
...
Silver-Tail Estate, Bartholomew's office, Months later
"My Lord..."
"Stop, I get it! We need to cut some expenses!"
"No, what I mean is..."
Bartholomew waved his hand in dismissal, "Yeah, yeah, I know. The treasury of the Missouri family was empty. Don't annoy me with it. I know that they ran away, but we could at least plunder all their subjects and take something."
"My..."
He looked at his cat-kin aide intensely, "What, Veronica?! I am somehow trying to balance the non-existent budget, but all I do is switch it to other avenues till other things are due! I know this!"
With her fist, Veronica banged the table, where Bartholomew did all his accounting, "Shut up for a second! I wanted to say that we got correspondence from the other families!"
He became immediately elated, sticking his hand out, "Great! Give me!"
Instead of waiting, he instantly tore the letters out of her hand and started to read them. However, what they wrote strained his face more and more.
He asked for two things: The recognition of him being the new Lord and a favorable loan. However, even though they all congratulated him and accepted him as the new Lord, together with Count Moorgrel, the loans they wanted to provide had some unfavorable conditions, but nothing too atrocious.
It was even slightly favorable, but with this, he would need at least 100 years of hard work to return the territory to her old self, 'Tsk, even though the interest is barely there, some only want access to our mines... however, I can at least say they are doing it in good faith.'
He never really socialized in their high society but was only known as the runner dog who switched in the East quickly between South and North to help the different campaigns out. This was also probably why they knew about him and immediately accepted his ascension.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
However, they also regarded the previous Lord and Lady as an eyesore as they tried to suck them dry with trade deals that made no sense, even further deteriorating the Silver-Tail's economy. As such, having him dispose of them was very welcomed.
"My Lord, I have another letter here."
He didn't even look at her while trying to decide who to choose or whether he would keep on negotiating with multiple parties in an attempt to get multiple smaller loans. This could potentially result in a more favorable overall deal, as he could avoid giving them any rights to his silver and copper mines.
Administration was never his forté as he was self-taught. Even his accountants were only some youth he could recruit for his cause and only because the Lady made more than enough enemies. So, when he declared a coup, many who wished for revenge became loyal to him in the hope of a better future.
Veronica banged his table again, bringing him out of his thoughts, "My Lord! It is from the Leonandras!"
Bartholomew raised his head and looked at her in confusion. He looked through the letters and picked one out, which was from them too, and held it up, showing that he had it. Marisia, his senior, wrote him and gave the best deal without much in return. It involved the Silver-Tail military to help out in their current demon run and some mining rights for their copper mines for the next decade.
Yet, what was weird was that she wrote on incredibly good parchment with beautiful ink. Something that would cost a pretty coin and something Bartholomew couldn't afford. This indicated that Marisia wasn't interested in a preferable deal and only helped him out to the best of her abilities while trying to follow her duties and get some favorable agreement for appearance's sake.
The aide sighed and gave him the letter, "I don't know. But you got two letters from the Leonandras."
Bartholomew immediately thought of the worst and if they had some split in their household, too. So he opened it carefully. However, the more he looked at it, the weirder it became, 'Did they become crazy again?!'
The Southern Guard Households tended to go manic sometimes. The Nine-Fire's once tried to cleanse all the other noble houses, which came from central Mal-Gil, from Moorgrel, Leonandra's tried their luck once in the djinn territory, and the Cold-Snout's once had a harem with over thirty wives, throwing their puppies at every merchant, to control the trade fully.
Little to say, the Silver-Tail household intervened, trying to hold them back from going too crazy and imploding at their hubris. The Nine-Fire were about to raid islands that were part of central Mal-Gil's higher nobility, almost starting an internal imperial war. The Leonandra's wanted to integrate the djinns into Moorgrel, almost starting a full-blown war, and the Cold-Snouts had a massive internal conflict since their puppies became unhappy, to say it lightly, at their situation.
Bartholomew hoped they wouldn't try anything too drastic while he was rebuilding his fief, as his household had the unofficial duty to reign their madness in a little. However, looking at his current position, it would be a stretch to mediate in the East.
After the uncomfortable thoughts, he sighed and looked again at the letter. The parchment was slightly crumbled like someone had tried to rip it away, while the upper part of the letter had a sentence or two that were crossed, but he could read it partly with some trouble, "Here, Alex. How much do you need exactly? I have too much gold either way... Cal... mine... See ya."
He raised an eyebrow, confused, and read the rest. It was much more eloquent and written with a lot of fluff. But what surprised him the most was the name with which it was signed: Alexander K. Leonandra and Aurum Leonandra.
"Veronica, do you know of some Alexander in the Leonandra family? The K. is probably from Kairoso, but he mostly talks about his time as a mercenary, so I only know a little. Is there some fight for the title?"
Veronica thought for a minute but suddenly remembered, "He is the one who somehow awakened [Mana Sense] and is regarded as a saint and genius in their territory. He also has some other nicknames, like the Unfortunate One and Archmage Puppy."
Bartholomew looked at her like she was crazy, but after another moment, he recalled something, "Wait, I remember some years ago Kairo told me that he had some brat with barely a hair on his balls that could do some street magic. How old is he?"
Veronica tapped her chin in thought. She was his personal servant and, since the beginning, on his side. She had the talent and necessary [Divinity Line] to gather and retain information better than anyone he knew. She was like a well with endless gossip.
She remembered, "He is seven or eight? Around this age."
Bartholomew looked at her more intensely, "Why do they call him saint?! He hasn't even gone through his legacy? I know Mari, and she would never allow her pups to leave the estate without an army following them."
Veronica's eyes lit up slightly as she tried to use a skill. After a moment, she relaxed again but was still sweating heavily from the strain and needed a minute to catch her breath.
After calming down, she spoke casually again. Still, Bartholomew could see her tail weirdly contorting as it was too much for her, "With the charity he created, he spent an enormous amount of coin on orphanages, built so-called old homes for the ones in their last years and without families who are also too old to work, and supported widow homes..."
While listening to what a brat did, Bartholomew became even more confused, 'Where does this brat get all the gold for it?!'
It was a dream scenario for every noble to help their subjects in such a way, but gold wasn't infinitely available. However, what surprised him more was that Veronica continued after catching her breath, "He also educates those, primarily orphans, and started to pressure the Temple to work with him much more closely, for some weird reason. However, there are also some rumors in the underworld that his retainers are more than welcome since they buy massive amounts of information regarding magic, alchemy, and artificing."
Bartholomew sat still and listened intensely. All that he could hear was that a brat was, for some reason, filthy rich and didn't use it for selfish reasons but could freely distribute it, 'What is Mari doing?! I am even more confused...'
Veronica saw this and sighed, knowing what he thought, "I can't find any information about how he acquired the gold to do such things, but what did he write?"
He looked at her blankly and said, "He will give twice the amount I need with no interest. All he wants is access to my territory so he can set up a Temple, his charity, and some other things I don't understand. He also wants access to some resources that we use as cheap fertilizer and some mines that have..." He looked again at the letter, "...something he calls calcium, sulfur, and magnesium. I have no idea what it is."
She tilted her head, "Something else?"
He nodded, "Yeah, he wants me to get some people ready for the office, for his charity here to coordinate it, but I am confused why someone wants to do such a thing?"
Bartholomew knew that some people, even nobles, did charity and donated a small part of their wealth to the unfortunate. Still, as he read the letter that stated that he wanted to build schools, orphanages, etc., he became skeptical. It was an enormous amount of gold one needed to spend. However, keeping such services would cost even more.
Veronica scrunched her face and also visibly didn't know what to think about something like this. However, before she could think through every possibility, her Lord stood suddenly up.
He towered over Veronica with his 2.2m (7.2ft), "Forget it. We will, either way, need to visit them all since I need to introduce myself."
Veronica nodded, "Should I prepare the presents?"
He nodded back, "Yes, and buy something for Alex..." he went with his hand through his hair and floppy ears, "... what does a crazy puppy want, by the way? Can you get something from our library about magic or artificing? We should have a book or two."
"Will do. What about Lady Ori? You haven't decided yet, my Lord."
He shuddered slightly, "Yeah... use more resources on her present. Mother really pissed her off multiple times."
...
On the way to the Leonandra Estate, Months Later
"My Lord, we will soon arrive."
Bartholomew sat in his carriage with closed eyes, contemplating his life choices. The trip to the north was disgustingly long, and while he could arrange some deals and renew previous agreements, the Iron-Claw household was a pain to deal with since they were fanatics and lived by the ideals of might makes right.
Everyone who visited them needed to be ready to get into a duel, which he won, at least with those in his age range. However, the Lord beat him mercilessly up, but it was all fine and dandy after he became a giant puddle of blood. Honor and determination were something they valued, so his display, even though losing, was worth it.
The next big problem was the Lady of the Cold-Snout household, who tried to throw multiple partners at him, ranging from barely five years old to 110. He found it fascinating that their whole plan for diplomacy was basically to marry off her puppies and establish a foothold with that.
What surprised him, though, was the Nine-Fire household, which gave him presents for disposing of his parents, who poisoned their relationships. Fortunately, he mostly dealt with Peter, the Lord, since Ori had no idea about what his fief was going through.
This reminded him of his number one problem: He had no wife but was a Lord. It was an exception due to extreme circumstances and barely allowed. Even the Count urged him to find someone suitable quickly in the next decade so he could continue their lineage.
However, he would need someone who was good at administration, but it was nearly impossible. The trend was that many women in their Guard Households were more focused on fighting or socializing, making it harder for him to find someone suitable—only a few excel in administration and fighting, like Marisa.
Also, if the Count suggested that he should find a partner, it meant he should really get into the noble circles and quickly find someone.
Regardless of his romantic circumstances, other visits were boring. Yet, the deals were also much less preferable but not bad. It was clear to the other households that they needed the Silver-Tail fief to prosper if they didn't want to have problems themselves through refugees, crime, etc. So, he could bargain heavily in most deals, especially with his neighbors.
The last household he would visit was the Leonandras', and he didn't know what to expect from them. Even the information was only superficial at best. He needed to deal with Alexander and Marisia now. One was a puppy, and the other was his senior, with whom he trained under the crazy bitch.
When he remembered his past and Marisia, he started to shiver. She was a cold-blooded beast when fighting, even going so far as entirely suppressing her aura when she got serious, an eerie feeling. Yet, she was also the only one who actually helped him through the training and always had an open ear. As such, he was somehow happy to reunite with her again.
His thoughts drifted far away when the carriage drove through Wolfsteeth. Everything looked chaotic but charming. The heat, though, was really something that was driving him insane.
"My Lord?" Veronica asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.
"What is it, Veronica? Let me relax before I try to negotiate with a damn puppy."
She tilted her head and smiled at him, "Do you want to take as much as possible from Alex and scam him?"
Bartholomew tiredly smiled while looking outside, "No, why should I?"
She shrugged, "He has arguably the treasury, and you could easily take three times the loan without many problems, and that for some unknown mines with some unknown metal."
"Don't joke. Remember what our family stood for? Peace and prosperity... sadly, Father needed to destroy it because of some poisonous bitch."
She chuckled, "Hehe, I didn't see much peace after you raided her family's estate and beheaded everyone affiliated with her. Also, not much prosperity was left after we plundered her territory."
Bartholomew's smile widened, "Shut up and concentrate. Try listening to everything and everyone, but not inside the estate."
They stopped before the estate's main gate and were guided to the main mansion, where a butterfly-kin welcomed him with an army of maids and butlers. Bartholomew remembered him too well as he also served him sometimes when Veronica wasn't available when he trained under Scarlett.
'All right, let's do it.'
Inwardly, Bartholomew wanted back to the front, where everything was much easier. Killing or being killed, but here, he would need to look after every word he said. At least this visit was much more casual since he knew the Lord and Lady better than the others.