"So young, and already a baron... The Rihart family has produced another noble."
"March, look at him. Then look at yourself."
As he spoke, Viscount Miles cast a killing glare at a middle-aged man seated at the far end of the dining table.
March Miles, second son of Viscount Miles.
The Miles family had endured for centuries, and in his youth, Viscount Miles had earned his place through blood and steel. He had been one of the leading generals under Grand Duke yers during the conquest of Northwind Province.
After their victory, the fading Miles family relocated from the Empire’s southern regions to Northwind Province, settling in Lingdu County. With control over the county’s inco, they once again rose to prominence—Miles himself becoming the Governor of Lingdu.
His contributions were substantial. But due to political strife between Grand Duke yers and other imperial nobles, the final rewards were far less than expected.
Apart from governing Lingdu County, Viscount Miles received only two or three settler lord decrees and knightly land grants.
He gave one of the settler lord decrees to his second son, March—since the viscountcy would pass to the eldest, he wanted the second son to have a chance.
But the problem was... March Miles was utterly incompetent. In less than a decade, he abandoned his territory and returned ho to leech off his father.
He had wasted a noble’s golden opportunity. There would be no second chance.
Ryan had heard so of this from a steward at Baron Barnes’s estate yesterday. It was said that March’s territory had bordered that of Viscount Dragon’s youngest son, another noble in Lingdu County.
March’s failure, it seed, was not entirely unrelated to interference from Dragon’s side.
The steward, for a few coins, told Ryan this story—and Ryan understood: the relationship between the two viscounts of Lingdu was even more strained than he had imagined.
Viscount Miles was a man of great vision who had revived his declining house in the harsh north, but the rot within the family ran deep. Aside from the viscount himself, there was no one truly capable of bearing the weight of their legacy.
As Viscount Miles aged, his house would likely fall once more into decline.
That was the root of his anger—he saw no heirs with promise. The Miles family was large, bloated with branches all feeding off the sa ancestral tree, but none of them seed to grasp the fate that awaited if the house were to fall.
Still, Ryan couldn’t tell if Viscount Miles was genuinely mistaken or just being subtly hostile.
After all, Ryan’s barony was also born of imperial political maneuvering—not exactly earned by conventional rit.
That Miles would bring this up... Ryan couldn’t say if it was ant in goodwill or with veiled criticism.
"Viscount Miles, I’ve co today with a matter to discuss."
"Oh? What is it?"
"Ryan, seeing you reminds of your father—the Earl of Rihart—back when I t him in the capital. Back then, your father crushed an entire pirate fleet on the West Coast in a single campaign."
"I’ve heard about your Frozen Soil Territory. If you need grain, the Miles family still has reserves."
Ryan looked puzzled. This viscount seed to harbor so hostility toward him.
If Ryan weren’t so young, Viscount Miles would never have spoken so bluntly. But upon seeing Ryan’s youth, he let his guard down—perhaps thinking Ryan couldn’t sense the undercurrent of disdain in his tone.
Why, then, was he still being courteous?
Ryan suspected it was because his father, the Earl, had returned to the Empire.
A viscount—no matter how remote—would never ignore imperial noble affairs. As a house with centuries of heritage, the Miles family likely still had many connections in the southern provinces.
Northwind Province lacked many things, but it had no shortage of ore and minerals. The Miles family had surely deepened ties with the southern nobles through the iron trade over the years.
Technically, Ryan’s barony had made him independent from the Rihart family, but he was still the earl’s son.
Ryan had no interest in verbal sparring. The orcs were moving south. If they didn’t act, everyone could die.
"Viscount, I didn’t co to request grain."
"I’ve co with an important piece of news—sothing the Governor of Lingdu County should hear."
Hearing Ryan refer to his official position, Viscount Miles straightened in his seat slightly.
"Oh?"
Ryan smiled.
"This news isn’t without value. The only question is—what price is Viscount Miles willing to offer?"
When it ca to profit, Ryan intended to get his due.
Viscount Miles stared at him. The old man said nothing—but from the side, Rager Miles, his youngest son—four or five years older than Ryan—shouted:
"Baron Ryan, you’re speaking to Viscount Miles, the Governor of Lingdu County! If this is a matter concerning the Empire’s safety, you should reveal it imdiately!"
Ryan glanced in surprise at Rager, then swept his gaze subtly across the others at the table. He saw gratitude in Viscount Miles’s eyes—and shock and confusion on the faces of the others.
By invoking the governor’s title, Ryan had forced the viscount to take him seriously. But Rager had just tried to use the sa justification to pressure Ryan into revealing the information.
After all, the southern march of the orcs was a matter of border security. No noble wanted that burden on their conscience.
"I didn’t expect that Viscount Miles’s house still had soone of such clarity. It seems, Viscount, you do have an heir after all."
Standing from the position of a baron, Ryan addressed Viscount Miles with the ease and dignity of a fellow noble—even though Rager was older, Ryan held the higher status.
At this table, there were only two true nobles: Baron Ryan and Viscount Miles.
But after finishing his sentence, Ryan glanced aningfully at March Miles and the viscount’s eldest son, Cristian Miles—leaving an air of silent implication.
Power struggles within noble families—Ryan smiled toward Viscount Miles, wondering: this man, who once marched under Grand Duke yers... did he have a plan?
"Baron Ryan, since this concerns the safety of Northwind Province and Lingdu County, it’s best that the rest excuse themselves. Co with to the study."
"Cristian, you co too."
At those words, Ryan imdiately understood—
Viscount Miles couldn’t handle his own household.
He recalled how the viscount had mocked Ryan’s own family background earlier, and his eyes instinctively flicked to Rager Miles, the youngest.
"Shouldn’t Mr. Rager co along too? Just now, it seed only he understood the aning of the orcs moving south."
Ryan’s voice was still youthful and clear, but his words made several faces at the table change instantly.
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