The carriage came to a slow halt before the estate.
Before the wheels fully stilled
The door was opened.
Head Knight Captain Andrew stood there, already bowed.
"Welcome, Young Master Roman."
Issac stepped down first.
Then
Roman followed.
The moment his presence touched the ground
Steel shifted.
A unified sound rang out.
Rows of knights stood in flawless formation, banners of the Great Presia Dukedom rising behind them, moving as one beneath the wind.
Then
"We, the Knights of Ephor, welcome you, Young Master!"
Their voices struck the air together.
Sharp.
Disciplined.
Unwavering.
Roman's gaze passed over them.
Not impressed.
Not dismissive.
Simply… measuring.
Then
It moved.
To the unit standing apart.
Smaller.
Tighter.
Sharper.
At their front stood Josey Hercules.
No longer just a mercenary.
Now
A commander.
Behind him stood the unit Roman had ordered into existence.
Men selected.
Refined.
Forged with resources from Presia.
Roman stepped toward them.
"How is their training?"
Josey straightened instantly.
"They lack in certain aspects."
A pause.
"But they are improving."
His voice hardened.
"And we will meet your expectations."
Roman looked at the unit.
Silence stretched for a moment
Heavy.
Then
"Good."
His voice was low.
Controlled.
"From now on…"
"You will act as my right wing."
"For missions beyond this city."
A ripple passed through them.
Tension.
Anticipation.
Then
"It will be our honor, Young Master!"
They answered as one.
Roman turned.
The estate gates opened.
Inside
Maids lined both sides.
Heads bowed.
"Welcome, Young Master."
Roman walked forward.
Each step steady.
Unhurried.
Then
"Is everything prepared?"
Andrew answered immediately.
"All sector reports have been compiled and placed in your office."
Roman nodded once.
A maid stepped forward.
"I will guide you, Young Master."
Roman followed.
Issac behind him.
Silent.
Observing.
The deeper they went
The quieter it became.
The palace was clean.
Ordered.
But lifeless.
Like something that had forgotten its purpose.
The office doors opened.
Roman entered.
He walked straight to the window.
And stopped.
Ephor.
From above
There was no illusion left.
Collapsed roofs patched with scraps.
Roads broken into uneven stone.
Children barefoot
Clothes worn thin.
A man argued desperately over the price of bread.
A woman pulled her child away from a guard's indifference.
Carts overloaded.
People underfed.
Eyes empty.
Not rebellion.
Not resistance.
Just
Endurance.
Roman's gaze sharpened.
Cold.
"…This is what rule looks like here."
A pause.
Then—
"It ends now."
He turned.
Sat.
The chair creaked softly beneath him.
On the desk
Reports.
Stacked.
Organized.
Waiting.
He picked one.
Road Infrastructure.
Funds allocated.
Never used.
Signed.
Approved.
Ignored.
Next.
Water Systems.
Contaminated.
Maintenance abandoned.
Reports falsified.
Taxation.
Excess collections.
Unrecorded reserves.
Hidden accounts.
People squeezed
Until nothing remained.
Food and Market Control.
Artificial shortages.
Collusion with merchants.
Prices inflated beyond reach.
Warehouses full.
Streets starving.
Gold Reserves.
Missing.
Redirected.
Buried.
Dungeon Rights.
Illegally sold.
Access controlled for private gain.
Public resources
Turned into personal profit.
Magic Tower.
Leaderless.
Disorganized.
Unstable.
Agriculture.
Fields abandoned.
Villages drained.
Supply chains broken.
Roman placed the final report down.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Silence filled the room.
"…So this is governance."
His fingers pressed lightly against the desk.
"…No."
His eyes darkened.
"This is rot."
A brief flicker
Of something colder.
"Noah…"
His voice dropped.
"…you didn't deserve execution."
A pause.
"You deserved worse."
Then
It vanished.
His expression returned.
Calm.
Controlled.
Absolute.
"Issac."
The door opened instantly.
Issac stepped in.
"What is it, Young Master?"
Roman didn't look at him.
"Summon them."
"All officials."
"Now."
A pause.
Then—
"No delays."
"No excuses."
The air tightened.
"If anyone refuses…"
Roman's voice lowered.
"…kill them."
"No retrieval."
"No second chances."
Issac bowed deeply.
"It will be done."
Orders spread across Ephor like a blade.
Messengers rode out.
Each accompanied by armed knights.
Doors were opened
Or broken.
The message was simple.
Attend the meeting.
Or die.
Panic followed.
In the taxation office
A man collapsed into his chair.
"…He already knows."
His voice trembled.
"…He has to."
In the trade sector
A sharp-faced official clenched his teeth.
"If he checks the supply chains…"
"…we're finished."
In agriculture
Silence.
Then a whisper.
"…The villages…"
"…we let them starve."
They all knew.
What had happened before.
Duke Noah
Dragged down.
Judged.
Executed.
Publicly.
Without hesitation.
This was not a ruler who negotiated.
This was one who decided.
Even the Magic Tower received the summons.
Damon was gone.
Dead.
And now
Velkan remained.
The one who would stand above two towers.
Presia.
Ephor.
He read the message.
Then smiled faintly.
"…Interesting."
And left immediately.
Across the city
Carriages moved.
Officials rushed.
Faces pale.
Breathing uneven.
One thought bound them all:
If we don't go
We die.
And another
Far worse:
If we do…
Back in the office
Roman sat in silence.
The reports before him.
The city beneath him.
The decisions ahead of him.
His fingers tapped once against the desk.
Soft.
Final.
"Let's see…"
His voice was quiet.
But carried weight.
"…how many deserve to stay alive."