...

The ceremonial hall was filled with an eerie silence. The young nobles felt an abrupt increase in pressure, making breathing difficult. It was as though an unseen presence was watching and judging their every move.

Alexander maintained his smile, his eyes still locked with his Father's, but inwardly, he panicked. His only saving grace for staying calm was his array of mental fortitude skills, which he applied with precise control.

'I'm so screwed—' His mind spiraled into misery, but a more pressuring thought broke through, overtaking everything else, '—Who?'

They had done everything to cover their tracks. Every document was encoded, the gold laundered through third parties, and those third parties outsourced further to keep more distance from the actual source, which was them.

'They weren't mine people—' Something inside him cracked, '—right?'

All his people had signed a multipage mana contract that should have been airtight, one he had personally drafted and verified. Breaking it would result in immediate, excruciating suffering, destroying their energy and mana veins—ultimately killing them.

'Airtight, huh?'

Rage welled up inside Alexander at the thought of betrayal. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his people. Whatever they wished for, he would give it to them without hesitation—gold, prestige, power, or knowledge. The sky was the limit.

All he asked in return was loyalty and for them to work in good faith—a reasonable demand.

Mistakes? He accepted them since they were inevitable, only asking that they learn and improve from them, never expecting perfection.

Alexander never judged anyone for race, sexuality, age, gender, or personal quirks. He also did not hold their family situation or past against them—something others did constantly, making him come off as an oddball.

He was a leader worth following and did not doubt his abilities to provide for his people and their families.

Was this the wrong time to reflect on it? Maybe. Alexander knew he was trapped but needed to find the traitor and have their head on a silver platter before he would accept his punishment.

"Who is the rat—" He growled through clenched teeth, "—I want the name."

As the words left his mouth, his mind raced through a list of everyone involved. But before he could even begin to identify the culprit, his Father's booming laughter snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Guhahaha! No fear, my boy, eh?"

Alexander tilted his head slightly at his Father's reaction, but he was still simultaneously trying to pinpoint where he had made the mistake of trusting someone unworthy. Such negligence could never be allowed to happen again.

"I need the name, Dad."

His Father rolled his eyes and answered bluntly, confusing Alexander even more.

"Noelle Pascal, Thaldon Uru, and Baldur Lavafist—" His smile widened with a teasing glint, "—What now, boy? This is why you need to learn politics. They asked for permission since they wanted to wage war on someone unrelated but close to us and spilled all the information we then used to piece your little plot together."

Alexander was bewildered, at a loss for words, having no idea what this was about. His knowledge of politics was limited to legal matters and whatever he learned from Anastasia until he put her to work. This practice and two of the names were utterly foreign to him.

Narsiz, however, seemed familiar with it. His voice was tinged with exasperation and anxiety when he looked horrified at Alexander.

"It's my fault—" Narsiz muttered through clenched teeth, "—I forgot about the custom of reciprocating peace—a practice that isn't written down but is almost always followed."

Alexander had no clue what Narsiz was talking about. Customs fell under social interactions between kingdoms, a subject he had never studied.

'This means—' A wave of relief washed over him, knowing no one had betrayed him. But as he locked eyes with his Father again, a dangerous aura filled the air.

There was no killing intent or bloodlust but something far more menacing. It felt as though Alexander were staring into the eyes of a monster—cold, calculative, and observant.

"Later, Narsi—" Alexander's senses were on high alert, "—what now? You clearly have something in mind. What's the punishment? I'll take full responsibility."

Beside him, Narsiz, Sarah, and Lorient immediately reacted, but Alexander wouldn't let them speak up. He refused to give his siblings the chance to incriminate themselves.

"No... ugh!"

"Wh... Argh!"

"Are you... hmph!"

Alexander's killing intent drowned the hall, silencing them in an instant. Caught off guard, they dropped to their knees, sweating and staring at him in fear.

As his mental fortitude grew, so did his control over his bloodline. He rarely pushed it to its full extent, but now was the perfect time to show what he was capable of, even when it strained his gland.

Despite being weaker than his siblings, he could overwhelm them for a short time. A thick blood-red mist swept toward them, except for Janina, whom he gently pushed away with a wind contraption.

Alexander quickly followed up with a propulsion spell, channeling as much mana as he could. The construct nearly imploded under the strain, forcefully propelling his still-surprised older siblings backward.

"Bastard!"

"Alex, I'll kill you!"

"Argh!"

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Even though they were furious, their voices filled with betrayal, Alexander didn't care and continued to ensure they wouldn't interfere with the further conversation.

'Sorry—' He bit his lower lip out of frustration.

His siblings were incredible. They always offered help, provided comfort when he needed it, and put up with his quirks—even when he was a snarky asshole.

'—I love you too much to let this happen to you.'

Once they were further away, he pulled a small bag from the spatial pouch he always carried and tossed it into the air.

"I need privacy for this conversation, so if you'll excuse me."

As the bag opened mid-air, a cloud of glittering dust spilled out, which he quickly captured with his wind contraptions, spinning it into a dome-like cyclone. It shimmered dangerously, swirling at immense speed around him and his parents.

"Sorry for the noise—" he said with a slight smirk.

With another wave of his hand, he created a vacuum inside the cyclone to cancel the noise out his cyclone made.

"Now—" his eyes still locked with his Father's, never breaking his intense glare, "—let's have it, old man. Prison, forced labor, whatever you've got. I'm ready."

But his Father just smiled and stepped aside as his Mother came forward, her emotions impossible to read.

"I see you're still playing the hero—" her expression darkened, "—are you sure about that? Do you understand what it means if you take the burden by yourself and admit your mistake, do you?"

Alexander smirked at his Mother. He had already made up his mind—he would take full responsibility for the operation so that his siblings wouldn't have to suffer and could still enjoy their young life.

It wasn't long since they could live freely, far away from the golden cage. They had so much they wanted to do and enjoy—marry, relax, or travel to their hearts' content. Alexander, or rather Zidane, had lived his life even though it was cut short. He wouldn't rob them of their future, even if it meant enduring thirty years of forced labor.

'Did she call it a mistake?—'

Alexander's affectionate thoughts about his siblings were cut short when he replayed his Mother's sentence in his mind, making him snap. He stared arrogantly down at his Mother, smirking at her.

"Mistake? I solved the problem in the best way possible—" his smile widened mockingly, "—the only mistake was the Count's. He didn't offer a solution but just pushed the problem away."

His Mother's fury was palpable, though her expression remained unchanged. The air around them seemed to warp as though reality was being torn apart, sending a wave of primal fear through him.

"Careful—" Her voice tense, warning him to stop.

Alexander, however, wouldn't back down. His pride wouldn't let him admit that this operation was a mistake, especially not when it meant that he would agree that all the effort had been in vain—of him and his people.

All the sleepless nights, countless resources spent, the sweat and tears—all of it had gone into a nearly flawless operation while everyone else stood by, ignoring the cancer festering at their borders.

However, she attacked not only his pride and effort but also his logical sense, an ability he was most proud of, as everything he said and did made sense.

'I will accept the punishment, but not like this—' He decided to ignore her warning even though he was barely able to lock eyes with her as his whole body screamed at him to run away.

"Why? I solved a problem, forged new relationships, and created a buffer zone with our enemies—" His smile was taunting, "—do what you need to do, but this wasn't a mistake—it was a flawless operation. I alone am responsible and will not admit to anything untrue."

Before it escalated, his Father snapped them out of their staredown, "You're a bold one, eh? Saying that to our faces after everything you've done."

Alexander turned toward his Father, his expression stern, "You didn't raise a liar, did you?—" He smiled slightly in defeat and accepted his fate, "—I know that what I did was wrong, but not a mistake. Do your worst. I'm ready."

As he finished, his Father raised an arm, and Alexander braced himself, expecting to be knocked out and dragged away, where he would accept his punishment.

Yet, the only regret he felt was not being knowledgeable enough—he had invested too little effort in subjects he cared little for. Orbis had been his playground, a place where he chose what to focus on, never realizing he should have also worked on what he despised or found boring—something he often did in his past life, desperately trying to avoid it.

As his Father's arm drew closer, Alexander closed his eyes, bracing for impact. But instead, he felt a hand gently touch his shoulder, his Father's voice ringing out, mockingly joyful.

"You are not as clever as I thought, are you?"

Alexander opened his eyes, more confused than ever.

"What?!"

His Mother sighed, her once stoic expression replaced by one of disappointment. However, both of them also had a particular glint in their eyes—satisfaction.

"We held the ceremony to choose an heir for a reason."

Alexander remained cautious, though, still slightly perplexed. If they didn't punish him, it could create more severe problems for the entire family, especially as he grew older.

"I don't care about being the heir—" his worry grew, "—the last thing I want is for you to break your oath."

When someone became a Knight, they swore an oath to the Count and Countess. Alexander couldn't remember the exact details, but failing to report their offspring when they committed a severe crime after they reached a certain age seemed like something that would break it.

There were several ways he could get off with just a slap on the wrist, and he already prepared for numerous scenarios. He had even crafted specific lies and counterarguments should anyone come after him.

But he wasn't caught aiding a Camp resident or supplying the Camp with some resources. No, his entire operation was exposed, something Alexander never expected—it was his worst-case scenario come to life.

If he accepted his punishment now, it might be less severe than if he were punished later. Once a more serious law was broken, age wouldn't matter anymore.

His Mother waved her hand, conjuring a massive gust of wind purely with her physical strength in the opposite direction of his cyclone, nullifying his contraption.

"Let's discuss it all together."

When the contraption dissipated, he saw his siblings standing at the edge of where the hurricane had been, drenched in sweat and visibly exhausted. He could sense the residual energy they had used to force their way in—a grave mistake.

Their arms were in shreds—blood flowed like rivers to the floor, muscles torn, and bones exposed. The injuries were horrific.

'I didn't expect that—' He stared at them in horror as his Mother flashed away—likely to fetch Ipe—while his Father, calm and composed, began pulling out his talismans to heal them.

Alexander's power wasn't just his strength or magic—he always carried special items and was prepared for assassination attempts or other dangers.

The powder he used was made of grated mana gems, diamonds, and demonium—all highly resistant materials.

If they wanted to break through, they would have to destroy the wind contraption, which would be impossible for his siblings as it span at incredible speeds.

Alexander approached them cautiously, offering a nervous smile. But just as he stepped forward, a loud explosion startled him, forcing him to prepare dozens of constructs and defenses once again.

BOOM!

Fortunately, it was only his Mother, returning with Ipe draped over her shoulders, who smiled sheepishly but visibly readied his energy to heal immediately.

On her way, she glanced at an empty spot and kicked it, using her condensed energy, various skills, and a martial technique. Lili flew across the hall, crashing into the far wall, creating an explosive sound—a groan escaped from an empty spot with a crater.

'Oh, right.'

Even though Lili was Tier 6 and had undergone something akin to the first body modifications of the beast kin, she wasn't invincible—especially when caught off guard.

'She's really furious.'

Alexander was perplexed about what would happen with his invisible guard and how his Grandmother would react to his Mother's finding out—a fight would break out, as it was simply to deduce that she knew about what he was doing, allowing it to happen.

But Alexander quickly ignored his temporary guard, knowing she would be okay. As he quickly glanced back toward his siblings—he flinched. They didn't look pleased.

'An apology won't be enough, I guess.'