ã€ŠAscendant of the Myriad Planes [A Multi-Planar and Cultivation Novel]ã€‹


 Chapter-1 Birth

    In the endless sea of myriad planes, each plane was distinctive, with its own unique characteristics and features. Among these countless realms existed a plane called Miraz. Miraz was a land of wonder and peril, a place where magic and might intertwined seamlessly. This plane was home to many diverse races, but it was dominated by humans. The main continent, Nilius, was a vast expanse of land divided into three powerful entities: the Zinovia Empire in the south, the Dranes Empire in the northwest, and the Holy Moon Alliance in the northeast.

    These three empires were colossal powers in their own right, each commanding vast armies and formidable resources. There were other powers scattered throughout the continent, each holding its own territories and influence, but none were as formidable as these three giants. Yet, these lesser powers were not to be provoked either, for they held their own unique strengths and guarded their lands fiercely. This continent was constantly embroiled in conflict, not only within its borders but also with other primary planes, often invading the smaller ones.

    The ceaseless fighting forged many powerhouses, warriors and mages who maintained an edge over adversaries from other primary planes. It was a world where strength and cunning were the keys to survival and dominance. And soon, this world would witness the birth of another legend, a tale that would echo through the annals of history.

    It was night, and thick clouds obscured the light of the three moons that usually bathed the land in a silvery glow. Deep in the northeastern territory of the Zinovia Empire, a small mansion stood nestled within a dense forest. The mansion was an old but sturdy structure, its walls covered with creeping ivy and its roof worn from years of exposure to the elements. Lanterns hanging on the walls cast a soft, flickering light, the only source of illumination in the darkness.

    Inside, in a dimly lit room, a man with jet-black hair sat on an intricately carved wooden chair, his eyes closed in deep thought. The man was Izark, a Duke of the Zinovia Empire, and he exuded an aura of quiet strength and authority. The room around him was filled with the trappings of nobility¡ªrich tapestries, ornate furniture, and shelves lined with ancient tomes and artifacts.

    An old woman, her back bent with age and her hair a silvery white, entered the room. She moved with the careful grace of someone who had served in noble households all her life.

    "My Lord, Lady Vanessa has given birth to a boy. She''s unconscious now. But you should inspect the child. There is something odd about the baby." she said, her voice a raspy whisper that hinted at years of experience and wisdom.

    Izark opened his eyes, revealing deep, penetrating orbs that seemed to see through the very fabric of reality. He looked towards the old woman, his expression one of curiosity and concern.

    Izark and Vanessa first crossed paths by chance, and their encounters continued, gradually blossoming into a unique and profound bond. Vanessa, an enigmatic woman from another plane, had completely captured Izark''s heart. Their deep connection led to Vanessa becoming pregnant, and she chose to stay in Miraz plane, leaving her home plane behind. Seven years later, their love had brought forth a child¡ªa boy who was the embodiment of their union and the joy of their lives.

    Izark''s father had passed away, leaving him with his dukedom and throne. They were now residing in this old mansion, a secluded retreat within his territory. Vanessa''s existence was still a closely guarded secret, known only to his most trusted followers.

    Izark followed the maid to another room, this one lit with the soft glow of candles. The scent of beeswax and lavender filled the air, creating a calming ambiance. Vanessa lay sleeping on a grand bed, her face serene and beautiful even in slumber. Beside her, nestled in the blankets, was a tiny baby. Izark moved forward and picked up the baby in his arms, cradling the small, warm bundle gently. He observed the child for a while, noting the unusual stillness and the intense crimson eyes that stared back at him.

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    "My Lord, this is no ordinary child. I have helped with many deliveries. Every child cries after being born, but this child didn''t even flinch, just stared at me with his crimson eyes. And he spent four years in the womb." the maid explained, her voice filled with awe and a hint of fear.

    "Enough, go to Grendel. He will take care of everything you need. You have served our family for a long time. Your loyalty will be rewarded." Izark said, his voice firm yet kind.

    "Thank you, my generous lord." the maid replied, bowing deeply before leaving the room.

    Silence returned, the only sound the faint crackling of the candles. Izark sat on the edge of the bed, the baby still in his hands. He marveled at the child''s steady gaze and calm demeanor. A melodious voice broke the silence, drawing his attention.

    "How''s my baby?" Vanessa asked, her voice soft but filled with warmth.

    He turned to see Vanessa awake, her eyes bright despite her exhaustion. He helped her sit up, supporting her as she adjusted to her weakened state. He passed the baby into her arms, and she kissed the baby''s forehead tenderly.

    "Why would you make your mother wait for so long? My little lord, my Zain. Do you like the name Zain?" she cooed, her voice filled with motherly affection.

    "Well, it''s a good name. What''s not to like?" Izark replied, a rare smile crossing his lips.

    "Hmph, my choice is always good. You are one of them, haha..." Vanessa teased, her laughter light and joyful.

    Izark quietly watched Vanessa playing with the baby. She had waited four long years to see him, and now her joy was boundless. He had never seen her this happy before. Suddenly, she stopped and looked at him with a questioning gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly.

    "What?" Izark asked, sensing the change in her demeanor.

    "You are a demon, aren''t you?" Vanessa said, her tone serious.

    Izark was a little startled after hearing this. He had the bloodline of the Destruction Beast, a lineage that was the progenitor of demons, devils, and other destructive races. But it was so diluted that one could even say it didn''t exist. No one in his family had been able to awaken their bloodline for generations.

    It was a long-forgotten bloodline, a remnant of ancient power. Even Izark had only discovered it after extensive research, a quest to increase his own power and understanding of his heritage.

    This didn''t mean the bloodline was useless. Even in its diluted form, it helped many family members achieve great power. They knew it was a very powerful bloodline, but the problem was its lack of purity. They had tried hard to increase the bloodline''s purity, but all their efforts had been in vain.

    Vanessa grabbed his hand and placed it on the baby''s chest. He focused, feeling the tiny but powerful heartbeat. In a single second, Izark understood that the baby had more than one heart. But how many in total?

    One... Two!

    Three... Four... Five... Six!

    Seven... Eight!

    Nine!!!!

    The baby had nine small hearts!!!

    It was unbelievable. Both Vanessa and Izark knew that the heart was the core of one''s body. The more hearts a person had, the greater their potential. They themselves had four hearts, but these were not present by birth; they had to train hard and push their bodies to extreme limits to grow them.

    Even four hearts were enough to surpass the Apex stage, but here Zain had nine hearts. Only great existences or beyond could have nine hearts, like Arch Demon Lords who could destroy a legion of Apex warriors with a snap of their fingers. That''s why Vanessa had asked that question.

    Izark started to feel powerful energy emanating from the tiny hearts. Pure Chaos and Destruction energy mingled together, swirling in the depths of the baby''s being.

    "This... this... Vanessa, I don''t know what it means. But I can assure you that he will go way beyond our imagination." Izark said, his voice filled with a mix of awe and excitement.

    "I know, silly. He is our child. This much is expected from him. Promise me, you will take care of him." Vanessa replied, her eyes pleading.

    "Do you really have to go?" Izark asked, his voice breaking slightly.

    "You know that I can''t stay here. But things can change in the future. If I don''t go, they will come looking for me. And right now, we both have our problems. Only you can take care of our child." Vanessa said, her voice filled with sorrow and resolve.

    "Vanessa, you know that I can go to war with even an entire plane for you. Even if it costs me my life. Can''t you give me the coordinates of your plane?" Izark pleaded, his eyes desperate.

    Vanessa smiled at this sentence. She knew Izark would do anything in his power to save her if she gave away the coordinates of her plane.

    "No, remember the promise you made to me. No matter what, you won''t try to save me or do something crazy. Just keep him safe. I promise nothing will happen to me. I may even come back to meet you." Vanessa said, her voice a soothing balm to his worried soul.

    Izark nodded, his heart heavy but his resolve firm. He looked at the baby, at their son, and knew that no matter what, he would protect him with his life. The future was uncertain, but in that moment, there was a glimmer of hope, a promise of greatness to come.

 Chapter-2 Return to the Territory

    The next day, Vanessa left without anyone''s knowledge, slipping away like a shadow at dawn. Before departing, she fed her baby one last time, cradling him gently and whispering soft words of love and promises. She gave him a gift: an egg, as big as the baby himself, a mysterious object of unknown origin but great significance. Izark, with a deep sense of foreboding, had anticipated something like this might happen, so he was not surprised. He took Zain in his arms, wrapped him in a soft blanket, and, along with some of his most trusted warriors, left the mansion.

    Their destination was Ravion Palace, located in Vermilion City, the capital city of his dukedom. Vermilion City was a bustling metropolis, a hub of activity and trade. The streets were lined with beautiful buildings, their facades a mix of elegant elven architecture and robust human design. Merchants hawked their wares, traders haggled over prices, and people went about their daily chores with a sense of purpose. The city was protected by massive stone walls, which loomed over the landscape like silent sentinels. Watch towers, equipped with enormous crossbows, dotted the perimeter, standing ready to defend against any threat.

    The palace itself was a marvel of elven craftsmanship, a testament to the Gremory household''s wealth and influence. It was an expansive structure with more than a hundred rooms, each more opulent than the last, and many grand halls adorned with intricate carvings and lush tapestries. The palace was a true home worthy of a Duke, filled with the history and legacy of the Gremory family.

    As Izark entered the city, his eleven most trusted warriors followed closely behind him. Each one of these men was a paragon of strength and loyalty, their reputations as formidable as their Duke¡¯s. They rode on specially bred war mounts, which were half a meter larger than the average horse, their powerful forms and fierce temperaments making them ideal for battle. As the group made its way through the city, people paused to bow in respect, their eyes widening in surprise at the sight of a baby in Izark''s arms.

    Izark dismounted and strode through the grand entrance of the palace, where rows of soldiers stood at attention on either side, holding the flags of the dukedom high in the air. The banners fluttered gently in the breeze, their vibrant colors a symbol of the Gremory family''s pride and strength. He moved directly to the throne room, his steps echoing in the vast space. The throne room was a large hall, designed with high ceilings and adorned with magnificent chandeliers. The walls were lined with exquisite tapestries depicting scenes of past glories and triumphs. It was a space designed to inspire awe and command respect, with soundproofing enchantments ensuring that no secrets ever left its confines.

    Izark sat on his majestic throne, Zain still in his arms. The throne was an imposing structure, crafted from dark wood and inlaid with precious metals and gemstones. It was a symbol of his authority and power. He called for one of his followers and instructed him to summon his butler, Morris, and to ensure that no one else entered the hall.

    Soon, Morris arrived, bowing deeply to his lord. Morris was an older man, his hair silver and his face lined with age, but his eyes were sharp and his mind keen. He had served the Gremory family for many years and was Izark''s most trusted aide. Morris glanced at the child in Izark''s arms but quickly dismissed the sight, focusing on his lord instead.

    "Morris, what''s the current situation?" Izark inquired, his voice steady and authoritative.

    "Nothing much, my lord. Usual small skirmishes on the border. The bandits in the south of the territory have been wiped out as per your order. Our dukedom has even experienced an increase in collected taxes as many people are migrating from Marquis Renis''s territory due to his tax hikes." Morris reported, his tone efficient and businesslike.

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    "Our sources have indicated that Renis is allying with Duke Ranold. They might be planning to attack us. But that''s good; our soldiers haven''t fought for a while now. It will be beneficial for us to engage them." Morris continued, a hint of eagerness in his voice.

    "That old coot Ranold isn''t attacking me; he just wants to use my forces to drain Renis''s strength so that he can acquire his lands with fewer losses. What about our family planes?" Izark asked, his mind already strategizing.

    Morris quickly sifted through some papers he had brought with him. The Gremory family controlled seven planes, each one of them teetering on the edge of becoming primary planes, a status that would elevate their power and prestige but also bring new challenges.

    "Out of seven planes, three are returning significant profits, which are expected to increase in the future. However, the other four require more investment, and the treasury cannot cover these expenses. We might need to increase taxes..." Morris suggested hesitantly.

    "No, we will find another way. What''s the situation in the family?" Izark interjected, his mind already working on alternative solutions.

    "Your younger sister, Viscount Mary, is expanding lands west of our territory and is currently at war with Viscount Donby. She requested that you do not intervene, as she considers it her fight." Morris explained.

    "Viscount Donby is the nephew of Duke Martin." Izark mused, his expression thoughtful.

    "Yes, my lord." Morris confirmed.

    "Send an envoy to Martin with two bottles of our finest wine. Inform him that if he attempts to assist Donby, directly or indirectly, he should be prepared for war with me. Make sure he understands that I will not stop until either my enemy is dead or I am." Izark ordered, his voice cold and determined.

    Morris knew that this message would be more than enough to deter Duke Martin. A war with Duke Izark was tantamount to courting death. When Izark''s father had died, many had sought to take advantage of the perceived instability in the Dukedom.

    Several small nobles had formed an alliance, amassing an army of 100,000 to challenge Izark''s rule. However, Izark, with only 10,000 troops, had fought back with unmatched ferocity. His eleven followers, all great generals, had used tactics, terrain, and formations to devastating effect, delivering a crushing blow to the alliance.

    The war had ended with Izark seizing the territories of a Count and three Marques. Half of the original 100,000 troops had been killed, and the rest were captured and ransomed off. Only a tenth of his own forces had perished. The world had been forced to accept the terrifying truth of Izark''s might.

    "As you wish, my lord. And your younger brother, Marquis Delius, is continuing his usual activities¡ªattending parties, engaging in noble charades, and building connections. However, he has not achieved much and is now complaining that this role does not suit him. He wishes to go on a conquest or something more befitting his skills." Morris reported, his tone slightly amused.

    Duke Salis had only three wives, each bearing one child. They had all died before Salis. Izark had other illegitimate siblings, but they held no significant place in the family, with the males serving in the military and the females working as maids or consorts.

    Izark''s only brother and sister were very close to him. His sister, known as the beauty of Gremory, was also one of the family''s powerhouses, having ascended to the rank of Viscount. Her only flaw was her quick temper, which often led her into conflicts.

    As for his brother, he was not particularly strong but excelled in diplomacy and managing relations with other nobles. Despite his recent complaints, he had always been a valuable asset to the family.

    "Don''t worry about him. He will find his way. There are very few people in our family capable of managing lands and developing trade. He is the best among them. But that alone isn''t enough. We need more talented people to develop our Dukedom." Izark said, his voice thoughtful.

    "I will search for suitable candidates. As for the other family elders, you know they form a council when you are away and disband it when you return. Apologies for my words, but they are good for nothing." Morris replied bluntly.

    These elders, from different branches of the family, were supposed to assist in decision-making, but Izark had never considered them useful. They spent their time bickering over trivial matters, indulging in vices, and generally being a burden.

    "Keep the loyal and useful ones; eliminate the others. Do it with utmost secrecy, over a month, slowly, one by one. Make it look like a disease or something natural. No one should suspect an assassination." Izark instructed, his voice steely.

    "It will be done perfectly, my lord." Morris assured, bowing deeply.

    "Now, what about my children?" Izark asked, his voice softening as he looked down at Zain, the future of his lineage, nestled in his arms.

 Chapter-3 Family Affairs

    Besides Zain, Izark had many children, most of them illegitimate. He had two wives besides Vanessa: Ruby, a woman with fiery red hair and a spirited nature, who had borne him an 8-year-old son named Nyris, and Lily, a gentle and kind soul with golden locks, who had given him two daughters, Nancy and Maze, aged 6 and 5 respectively. The children were a lively bunch, their laughter often echoing through the grand halls of the palace.

    Morris provided updates on the children, "They''ve become rowdier since starting martial arts training. Young Master Nyris practices diligently, showing remarkable promise, while Lady Nancy and Maze, well, they seem to enjoy play more than training."

    Izark nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "That sounds about right. Nyris is quite determined, but the girls are still so naive."

    Morris continued, his tone becoming more serious. "My lord, the Emperor requests your presence in the Royal Court. It seems to be a matter of great importance."

    Izark waved a dismissive hand, a smirk crossing his face. "No, that glutton just wants to observe me, to see if I''m all bark or bite."

    Morris hesitated for a moment before asking, "And my lord, is this your child with Lady Vanessa?"

    "Yes, he is. Summon everyone important to the throne room. I have an announcement to make." Izark commanded.

    "Yes, my lord." Morris replied, bowing deeply before hurrying off to carry out his orders.

    Soon, the throne room filled with curious faces, all surprised to see the baby cradled in Izark''s arms. Only a few trusted individuals knew about Zain¡¯s existence¡ªMorris, the eleven knights, and his two wives. They were the only ones he trusted completely.

    As the room fell silent, Izark¡¯s children, Nyris, Nancy, and Maze, dashed to the front, their excitement palpable.

    "Daddy, where''s the baby?" Nancy''s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

    "Hush, Nancy! This is the courtroom, not your playroom." Nyris scolded, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum.

    But Maze, always the rebellious one, chimed in, "Don''t worry, brother. Daddy''s here. No one dares say a word."

    Izark couldn''t help but chuckle at their antics. The three children were always dramatic, their personalities a constant source of both amusement and exasperation. They had learned about their new sibling from their mothers and had been eager to see him ever since.

    "So cute." Maze cooed, reaching out to touch the baby''s tiny hand.

    Nancy, not to be outdone, declared, "He''ll be handsomer than you, brother."

    Nyris, trying to maintain his composure, muttered, "Yeah... uh, I mean, no, he has good eyes, but he''s still a child."

    Izark¡¯s expression turned stern as he addressed his children. "You know the rules in public. You''ll be punished for this lack of decorum. Let me think... ah yes, your allowance will be halved for a month."

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    Their excitement waned at his words, knowing better than to argue. Izark then stood from his throne, holding the baby high for all to see.

    "This is my legitimate son, Zain Gremory. His mother has passed, so he will stay here with us. Any objections?" His voice was commanding, leaving no room for dissent. "I thought not. Back to work."

    Though many had questions, they chose not to voice them. A few minutes later, only the children, Morris, Ruby, Lily, and his eleven followers remained. These were the only ones allowed to ask questions. They inspected the baby one by one, their expressions a mix of curiosity and admiration.

    Ruby and Lily had been given to Izark as part of political bargains after he had defeated the allied nobles. They had been innocent girls, used as pawns in a larger game. But meeting them had changed his perspective, and he had come to genuinely care for them, leading to their marriages. Their unions had also helped him overthrow two nobles and claim their lands. Despite the circumstances of their arrival, they lived happily within the Gremory family.

    Mesmerized by Zain''s cuteness, both women were delighted to have another child to nurture, filling a void as their own children grew older. In the quiet of the hall, whispers arose among those gathered. Some wondered about Zain''s future, others about Izark''s plans, but they dared not voice their curiosity, knowing the consequences.

    Izark, meanwhile, basked in the attention, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the sight of his family together. His eleven followers, known as the ''Death Knights'', stood silently but with an imposing presence. Each of these men had been by Izark¡¯s side through countless battles and adventures, earning their reputations as some of the fiercest warriors in the realm. Among them, Raiser the Reaper was the most terrifying, his double-sided axe capable of cutting through even Sage beings. The others were equally formidable, each with their own unique strengths.

    Suddenly, Valtar, a mage known for his wisdom and power, wore a troubled expression. "Lord, what... this... I... can''t... cough."

    All attention turned towards him as he coughed up blood and collapsed to the ground. It was alarming to see a Mythic being in such distress. Izark''s heart raced as he knelt beside Valtar.

    "Valtar, what happened?" Izark demanded, his voice filled with concern.

    "Sorry, my Lord. I didn''t expect the little fellow to be this strong. When I tried to use my energy to analyze his body, it backfired because of his energy attacking me." Valtar explained, his voice weak.

    "Hehehe..." The baby let out a small, innocent laugh, oblivious to the chaos he had caused.

    "Sl... ee.. pp." The hall fell silent as the infant spoke his first word, echoing his departed mother''s last. It was astonishing that he could harm a Mythic being and then laugh. Zain quietly fell asleep, ignoring the shocked faces around him. Izark snapped out of his daze, his protective instincts kicking in.

    "What are you all staring at? Don''t you have work to do? Zain is sleeping!" he barked, regaining his composure.

    "But... how could he just injure..." one of the knights began, only to be cut off by Valtar.

    "No, he didn''t injure me. It was my mistake. When analyzing a foreign body, energy can backfire, especially against stronger powers. Hahaha... I didn''t expect this kid to be so interesting." Valtar said, his laughter tinged with awe.

    As Valtar spoke, the full implications of Zain''s power dawned on him. It wasn''t merely the baby''s energy that had caused the backfire but his powerful bloodline inherited from his mother, Vanessa. If she had fought seriously, even Izark would have struggled against her.

    Realizing Zain''s potential, Izark cautioned the room. "This incident stays secret. Be careful, especially you three." he said, addressing his children. "Kids, you tend to disobey me. Ruby and Lily, take the kids and Zain to the room."

    Ruby left with the sleeping Zain in her arms, while Lily and the children followed, their footsteps echoing softly in the grand hall.

    Izark turned his attention back to the matters at hand. "Now, about Marquis Renis, he could be a significant problem. Raiser, take three others and a battalion. I want his lands under my control within four months."

    "Yes, my lord." Raiser replied, his voice deep and unwavering. Though daunting, the task was well within Raiser''s capabilities. Feared even in the Mythic Realm, he would undoubtedly get the job done.

    Next, Izark addressed the stabilization of his rapidly growing territory. His swift expansion had brought many issues, some of which had been neglected due to continuous warfare. He needed capable managers to address these problems and maximize the benefits of his conquests.

    As the meeting continued, Izark delved into the intricate details of governance, outlining strategies for economic development, infrastructure improvement, and social welfare programs. Each decision was carefully weighed, considering the long-term implications for his realm and its inhabitants. Hours passed as Izark and his advisors deliberated, their discussions ranging from foreign policy to agricultural reform. Despite the gravity of the topics at hand, there was a sense of camaraderie among them, forged through years of shared triumphs and challenges.

    Outside the throne room, the bustling sounds of the castle echoed through the corridors, servants going about their duties with quiet efficiency. In the courtyard, knights sparred with one another, their swords flashing in the sunlight as they honed their skills for future battles. The clang of metal and the shouts of warriors created a rhythmic backdrop to the day''s activities.

    Meanwhile, in the nursery, Ruby and Lily watched over the sleeping Zain, their hearts filled with love and protectiveness for their youngest charge. Despite the tumultuous world outside, within the confines of their care, Zain was safe and cherished, surrounded by warmth and affection. The soft glow of the afternoon sun filtered through the windows, casting a serene light over the room.

    As the day wore on, Izark attended to his duties, his mind occasionally drifting to thoughts of Zain and the legacy he would leave behind.

 Chapter-4 Growing up

    Over twelve years, the Gremory Dukedom changed dramatically, swept by powerful forces that brought transformation and turmoil. The once-strong vassal families that had been the backbone of the Dukedom were now mere shadows, weakened by a strange ''disease'' that took many important figures, leaving behind sadness and lost potential.

    Marquis Renis, once respected and feared, was now little more than a memory, his lands absorbed by Izark¡¯s growing territory. But when Izark¡¯s father passed away suddenly, the real loss wasn¡¯t in soldiers ¡ª there were plenty ¡ª but in skilled managers and craftsmen needed to handle the newly gained lands. This gap was deeply felt in the halls of power.

    During this time, Zain grew at an astonishing pace, not just physically but mentally. His hunger for knowledge seemed endless. By the time he was one, he could speak with surprising clarity, and by four, he had read nearly the entire palace library, constantly asking for more books to feed his curiosity.

    But Zain¡¯s talents weren¡¯t limited to knowledge. By nine, inspired by old stories of alchemists, he began experimenting with potions, hoping to discover the secrets of immortality. These early attempts were messy and chaotic, prompting Ruby and Lily to set aside a special space for his work ¡ª a sign of their unwavering support for his growing curiosity.

    Zain didn¡¯t interact with many people. He mostly kept to his family and the ever-loyal Morris, who had been by his side since birth. He spent his days reading old texts and quietly observing the Dukedom, soaking in every detail. The energy inside him, full of untapped potential, seemed to flow into a strange egg his mother had given him. It pulsed with life, absorbing his energy and hinting at something incredible ¡ª something beyond what most could understand.

    One autumn morning, as the cold of winter approached, Zain sat in the warm library, surrounded by towering stacks of books. The shelves were not enough to hold all the knowledge he sought. Lost in his reading, he didn¡¯t notice the chill in the air, his mind drifting through the wisdom of the past.

    The heavy oak doors creaked open, and Ruby and Lily entered quietly. Their voices, full of warmth and concern, broke the peaceful silence.

    "Zain¡­ Zain¡­ Zain!" they called softly.

    Startled, Zain looked up. "Oh¡­ yes, Ru," he replied, using his affectionate nickname for them, a sign of the deep bond they had formed over the years.

    "Come, Zain, you need to eat," Lily said gently, her smile full of care.

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    "Just one more book," Zain pleaded, his eyes already drawn back to the pages in front of him.

    "Three days, Zain. You¡¯ve been in here for three days," Ruby reminded him, her gentle tone hiding her worry.

    "Exactly. It¡¯s only been three days. Maybe you could bring food here, Li?" Zain suggested half-heartedly. He knew they were right, and he valued their care too much to argue seriously.

    "That¡¯s not happening," Ruby said firmly. "You will join us for a meal, or I¡¯ll lock you out of this place for¡­ two hours, let¡¯s say?"

    Zain gave a small, defeated smile. "It¡¯s hard to refuse you, Ru. Let¡¯s go."

    They walked through the grand halls to Zain¡¯s room, a simple space he rarely used. Beside his bed lay the egg his mother had given him, now ten times its original size. Izark had noticed its growth but never asked questions, respecting its mysterious origins.

    At the dining table, a feast fit for a week awaited him. Zain devoured it in minutes. To Ruby and Lily, this was no longer surprising; it was just another sign of his boundless energy.

    After eating, Zain sent a maid to call for Izark. Alone again, he went to the egg, placing his hands on its smooth, warm surface. His energy flowed into it, deepening the bond that had grown stronger over the years.

    "I know you¡¯re close. Hurry," he whispered softly, his voice full of hope.

    The egg absorbed his energy until it could hold no more, darkening for a moment before returning to its glowing state. Zain left the room, leaving the egg pulsing with life, ready to reveal its secret.

    High in the tallest tower, Izark stood by the window, looking over the vast Dukedom ¡ª fields, forests, and rivers stretching far into the distance. Morris stood beside him, ready to report on the state of their lands.

    "That covers all current matters. My lord, young master Zain¡¯s hunger for books has grown even more. Is it possible he¡¯s read them all?" Morris asked, a mix of disbelief and admiration in his voice.

    "What do you think?" Izark replied, his tone amused, his eyes shining with pride.

    "Considering he often spends over a week in the library and his rapid growth¡­ I believe he could. At this rate, he might reach maturity within a year. Yet, he seems to have no interest in magic or the arcane arts," Morris added thoughtfully.

    "You mentioned his reading," Izark noted with curiosity.

    "Yes, but he focuses on agriculture, architecture, and stories from other planes. He says practical knowledge is the most important thing to learn first," Morris explained, clearly impressed by Zain¡¯s wisdom.

    "Let¡¯s hear what he has to say for himself. He should be here any moment to¡­" Izark¡¯s words trailed off as a polite knock interrupted him. Zain entered the room calmly, his presence confident but relaxed.

    "Good morning. How are things, Izark?" Zain greeted him casually, showing none of the formal respect expected from most.

    Izark, used to his son¡¯s teasing nature, couldn¡¯t help but see a bit of Vanessa in him. "You know many nobles tremble at my name, yet you talk to me so casually. I could punish you for that," he joked with a smile.

    "True, you could ¡ª but you won¡¯t. Now, about the Dukedom¡­ it seems you¡¯re having some trouble keeping things in order. Why is that?" Zain asked casually, reclining on the couch, his gaze drifting to the ornate ceiling.

    Izark sighed deeply, the burden of leadership clear in his voice. "There are many reasons. We lack capable people, and trust is hard to find. But why the sudden interest?" he asked curiously.

    Morris nodded, looking tired but hopeful. "Indeed, my lord. We don¡¯t have the money to hire the talent we need. Without your strength, the Dukedom would be in danger. We¡¯re missing strategic minds to guide us through these troubled times."

    Zain smiled confidently, with a hint of mischief. "Why look for others when you have me?" he asked, his eyes shining with determination and youthful pride.

    The room fell silent as his words hung in the air. Though still young, Zain was full of promise ¡ª a promise that might be the key to stabilizing and improving the Dukedom¡¯s future.

 Chapter-5 Delicious Wine

    Izark eyed his young son with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. "You are a twelve-year-old child. What can you even do?" Izark''s tone dripped with disbelief, his furrowed brow underscoring his doubt.

    Zain, his eyes gleaming with a mix of determination and pride, met his father''s gaze unwaveringly. "You are really underestimating me, Father. Here, let me show you."

    With a fluid motion, Zain produced a bottle of wine, its dark, elegant glass glinting under the room''s flickering candlelight. He tossed it gently toward Izark, who caught it with practiced ease. As the bottle sailed through the air, it released an alluring fragrance, rich and inviting, which filled the room.

    Izark raised an eyebrow, his suspicion evident as he turned the bottle in his hands. The exquisite aroma piqued his interest. "What is this?" he asked, his voice tinged with cautious curiosity.

    "Just drink it." Zain encouraged, his tone confident and persuasive.

    Izark hesitated for a moment, eyeing the bottle suspiciously. "It better not be poisonous." he muttered before taking a tentative sip. Almost immediately, his eyes widened in surprise, and his suspicious look transformed into one of delight. He took another gulp, a big one this time, nearly draining half the bottle in one go.

    "Hey! Easy, easy, don''t drain all of it." Zain protested, watching with a mix of amusement and concern.

    Izark reluctantly stopped, lowering the bottle. "This is the best wine I have drunk in such a long time. Even Dwarven alcohol couldn''t match this. No... they can, but this could compete with the most expensive alcohols and wines I''ve ever tasted. Where did you get it?"

    A proud smile played on Zain''s lips. "I made it."

    Izark laughed, a hearty, disbelieving laugh. "You... hahaha... don''t joke. Tell me, where did you get it?"

    "Believe it or not, I made it." Zain insisted, his expression unwavering.

    Izark turned to Morris, his trusted advisor, who stood nearby with a bemused look on his face. "My lord, I think the young master is stating the truth. I have experienced a similar fragrance emanating from his ''lab'' on several occasions." Morris said, his tone serious.

    Izark''s eyes widened in realization. "So, you really... but how?"

    "You really ask many questions." Zain teased. "It''s like this..."

    Zain began to explain his intricate process. People with high power Realms never got drunk easily, as they had to drink an immense amount. Whenever toxic alcohol entered their bodies, it would get eliminated, nullifying the effect and disrupting their pleasure as it was deemed harmful by their highly developed systems.

    "But I found a way to bypass this natural defense mechanism." Zain continued, his voice growing more animated. "After conducting numerous experiments over the last few years, and using my monstrous analytical skills and calculations, I was able to create a formula that prevents this process. It took a couple of years, but I managed to achieve what would take a lifetime even for an expert¡ªa perfected, high-quality wine."

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    Izark stared at his son in amazement. "What kind of monster are you? How many experiments did you perform to achieve this? Weren''t you trying to brew that fairytale immortal potion?"

    The last line stung Zain''s pride. "Do you think that I am that dumb? I knew from the beginning that the story was a myth. But there was something in it that caught my eye. The values, like the quantity and volume of the materials, were oddly specific. It''s also one of the oldest books in the library. And it was not even a complete book but a draft, with some text rubbed out and rewritten, some parts having slight spelling mistakes."

    Izark couldn''t understand why Zain was telling him all this, but he continued to listen, intrigued.

    "Its author''s name was Goya Stonehill. I looked for clues about him. Apparently, he was a well-known wine brewer in the Holy-Moon Alliance a long time ago. He died of old age without a successor and never managed to pass on his teachings and wine-brewing methods. Luckily, I discovered the secret of this book."

    Zain''s eyes sparkled with excitement as he recounted his discovery. "It contains the recipe for one of his special wines. But I needed to find real-life ingredients that matched the characteristics of the materials described in the book. Over four years, I found the matching ingredients."

    "So, how did you make it?" Izark asked, genuinely curious.

    Zain took a deep breath, savoring the moment. "In the first three years, I performed nearly a thousand experiments to figure out the nature of available resources. In the fourth year, I tried different combinations in my mind to narrow down possible solutions. This last year, I worked on those solutions to make a cost-effective and luscious wine. It can still be improved, though."

    Izark''s eyes were wide with disbelief. "Are you saying that you did all that in just five years?"

    "Too much time, yes I know." Zain said with a self-deprecating smile, "but I am still a novice. This is the best I could do right now. The recipe in the book is very complex. And you should be praising me, not whining about the time."

    Morris, who had been listening intently, was in disbelief. He had always known that Zain was talented, but he had never imagined the extent of his genius. On the other hand, Izark was more angry than shocked at Zain calling himself a novice. It was either that he was acting dumb or he had no idea what he had accomplished, maybe even both.

    Of course, it was the latter. Zain had read research work on wine but didn''t know how much time it took to gather all of that data. Then, with a swift motion, Izark pulled Zain''s ear, not with full strength, just enough to leave him with some pain.

    "What''s that for?" Zain asked, rubbing his ear in mild annoyance.

    "Nothing, I just felt like it. Now, tell me what''s going on in that little brain of yours?"

    Zain straightened, his expression serious. "Morris, I want some resources for it."

    Morris, always the diplomat, replied, "No problem, young master, but that''s only if the lord approves of it."

    Zain''s gaze sharpened. "So, listen carefully. If everything goes according to my plan, we will control 90% of the monopoly in our Dukedom and 10% of the monopoly in the Empire in the coming two years."

    If anyone other than Zain had been making these declarations, Izark would have personally thrown him out of the palace. But coming from Zain, it looked as if these words carried some weight. It was a dream that was near impossible, to complete such a task in such a short time. No one would ever think about it. Five percent of the monopoly of the Zinovia empire was controlled by outer forces. Twenty-five percent was controlled by the royal family. The rest was under nine dukes and nearly two hundred other nobles.

    It would make them the second strongest power in the empire in terms of wealth. But would this dream ever become a reality? This was the question in Izark''s mind.

    "Zain, you know right that our Dukedom is way down when it comes to... wealth."

    "I know that, and what is the reason for it? You all are. Tell me, Morris, what would happen if traders were to increase the price of weapons?"

    "Hmm... we will increase their taxes."

    "And what if they retaliate and refuse to sell?"

    "They wouldn''t want to mess with us."

    "Well, that would end in a bad way. Because we still have to oblige to some of their demands."

    "Yes, you are right, young master. We will be in a bad place. If there was a shortage of supply or a fall in quality, it would cost many lives. But why are you thinking about it? It''s not like it would happen."

    "Oh... really, why are you so sure? Haven''t we experienced a rise in the price of grains?"

    "Yes, we have. And it can happen. But we don''t have a choice."

    "Oh yes... Morris, I get it now. Zain, we have other ways though. Assassinating some of them, framing them as criminals, there''s a lot we can do about it. You are helping us to figure out new ways."

    Izark got excited over the killing and stuff. It was precisely not what Zain wanted. He could only rub his temple in frustration at his father brimming with excitement.

    "Stop, that''s not what I meant."

    "Yes, my lord. There sure must be something else the young master would want to explain. You should let him finish himself."

    "Thanks, Morris."

    Zain didn''t know how Morris kept up with his father on a daily basis. This man had only one solution to problems¡ªgetting rid of the person causing the problem. But because of this attitude, there were very few people in the Zenovia empire who would ever mess with him.

    "I will go straight to the plan. Stage one is making our Dukedom self-sufficient. We need to invest in agriculture and local production. This will reduce our dependency on external traders and stabilize our economy. We need to develop our own resources to ensure that we have a steady supply of essential goods."

    Izark nodded, finally seeing the sense in Zain''s words. "Go on."

 Chapter-6 Young and Sharp Mind

    "What do you mean by being self-sufficient?" Izark asked, raising an eyebrow as he settled deeper into his plush chair, the afternoon light casting a golden hue across his stern features.

    "That''s precisely what I mean." Zain replied, his voice firm yet filled with youthful enthusiasm. "We will gain enough supply of food, weapons, and other resources so that we won''t have to depend on others."

    Izark''s brow furrowed further, a mixture of skepticism and curiosity playing across his face. "And how are we going to do that?" he interrupted, his tone sharper than he intended.

    "Just let me finish." Zain said, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. He straightened his back, his eyes gleaming with determination.

    Zain had spent countless hours devising a comprehensive plan. He knew that the survival and growth of their Dukedom hinged on two key elements: wealth and talent. These were the pillars of his strategy, the foundation upon which he intended to build a brighter future. The plan encompassed several phases, each meticulously thought out to ensure their independence from external powers. This included gaining control over independent markets and organizations within their territory, allowing them to master their economy completely.

    As Izark listened, he became more engrossed in his thoughts, his mind racing through the numerous possible outcomes of Zain''s proposal. He weighed the potential risks and rewards, the benefits and drawbacks. Finally, after a long pause, he asked, "What do you need?"

    A triumphant smile spread across Zain''s face. He hadn''t expected it to go this smoothly. After all, he was still just a child in the eyes of many, and convincing anyone to take him seriously in matters of such magnitude was no small feat. Yet, there was a glimmer of hope in Izark''s eye, a belief that there was something truly extraordinary about his son.

    "I need full authority to make major decisions." Zain stated confidently. "Of course, it will be in your name, but I also need five million gold coins. Though more would be ideal, this will suffice for now."

    Zain looked at Izark with wide, pleading eyes, reminiscent of a child asking for a toy. But Izark knew that the amount he was requesting was no small sum; it was a fortune comparable to a baron''s lifetime of amassed wealth. Granting Zain the authority to make decisions was a minor concern¡ªhe could always rein him in if necessary. However, the substantial financial request was a different matter entirely. Izark rubbed his temple, deep in thought, contemplating the best course of action.

    "Zain, look, I''m giving you a chance." Izark said finally, his voice filled with a mixture of caution and trust. "It depends on you how you will use it. I don''t know why I am doing this, but you give me a feeling that you will surprise me."

    "Don''t worry, I won''t let you down." Zain assured him, his voice brimming with confidence. "I need an assistant as well as a guard who can help me."

    "Young master, if you''re looking for an assistant, then my son Chris can help you with it." Morris interjected, his voice hopeful as he tried to gain favor for his son. He believed that his young master had a bright future ahead of him and wanted Chris to be a part of it.

    Izark nodded thoughtfully and then summoned one of his personal knights. Shortly thereafter, a beautiful lady entered the room. She was elegantly dressed, her attire accentuating her well-developed figure. Her beauty was such that she could easily outshine many ladies of noble households. She bowed gracefully to Izark and then turned to Zain, offering him her most innocent smile. But Zain merely nodded in acknowledgment, his mind already racing with plans.

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    This behavior stung the lady''s pride. Many noble lords would have been captivated by her presence, their eyes lingering on her form. She didn''t particularly enjoy their lecherous behavior, but Zain''s lack of interest was a new and surprising slight. Normally, when people saw her for the first time, they couldn''t take their eyes off her.

    Even Izark and Morris were slightly taken aback. They knew how the younger generation typically behaved in matters of the heart and beauty. Despite Zain being twelve years old, his physical development was akin to that of an eighteen-year-old. He had read enough poems and tales to understand these ''things'' but he showed no interest.

    "What happened?" Zain asked, noticing the unusual dynamic.

    "Huh... no, nothing." Izark replied, his focus unbroken. "Meet Raina. She is a mage under me. She will be your protector from today on. Do either of you have any objections?"

    "No, father." Zain responded, his tone respectful but firm.

    "No, my lord." Raina echoed, her voice steady.

    "Then that''s settled. You have ten months to show me good results." Izark declared, his tone carrying a mix of challenge and encouragement.

    "Got it. Miss Raina, please meet me in my room an hour from now and bring along Chris with you as well. And yes, I need to know about good empty plots of land for setting up a winery. I will be there; you can go first. I still have some things to discuss with my father."

    Raina first looked at Izark, seeking his approval. When he nodded, she bowed and left the room, her steps light and graceful.

    "My beloved father." Zain began, his tone unusually polite and almost syrupy.

    "Spit it out! What do you need?" Izark demanded, recognizing his son''s ploy immediately. This polite gesture was clearly a facade for another request.

    "We have still not discussed how to divide the profit." Zain said, his voice tinged with cunning.

    "Are you actually kidding me? I have already given you five million gold coins. What more can I ask for?" Izark retorted, exasperated.

    "Please let me correct that statement." Zain said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "You have invested, not given. And so I will return what you invested, and after that, we will share the profit at a ninety-ten ratio."

    Izark couldn''t help but laugh at his son''s audacity. "Hahaha... what a beloved child. No, I will only keep eighty, and you can have twenty percent." he said, feeling slightly touched by Zain''s attempt to give him more profit. As he took another sip of wine, he noticed a strange expression on Zain''s face.

    "Hey, I am taking ninety percent, you ten percent profit."

    Izark spat out the wine and coughed loudly, choking on the audacity of the suggestion. "What crap are you spouting? I paid for the investment first-hand. This is daylight robbery."

    Tears started flowing from Zain''s eyes like a cascading waterfall, his voice breaking as he spoke. "You... you don''t love... sob... sniff... even though I did all that research for the family. But... you... sniff... are mad at... me."

    Seeing his son cry like this, Izark''s resolve softened. He thought to let go of the profit, realizing that perhaps he had been too harsh. ''I shouldn''t be so hard. He is just a kid. And the money will also remain in our family, so no loss.''

    "Okay, okay, I will give you forty percent at most." Izark conceded, his voice gentle.

    "Sob... really?" Zain asked, his eyes wide with hope.

    "Yes, I give you my word." Izark affirmed.

    "Haha... fantastic!" Zain''s attitude changed instantly, his tears vanishing as quickly as they had appeared. Both Izark and Morris were left baffled by his sudden shift in demeanor. It was the first time they had seen this side of him.

    "Zain!!" Izark exclaimed, a mix of frustration and amusement in his voice.

    "Calm down, father. You already gave your word. But I will cut you some slack. For the coming years'' development, I will pay. Happy now?" Zain said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

    Izark didn''t know whether to laugh or cry. Here he was, a Duke and a terrifying one at that, being outwitted by a twelve-year-old. But when he thought deeply, he realized that if Zain''s plan even partially succeeded, the profit would be immense. So, he swallowed his anger and started discussing other details about sales and logistics.

    After the intense discussion, Zain left for his room, eager to meet his new guardian and assistant to finalize and execute his ambitious plans.

 Chapter-7 New Goldflow Valley

    Ten months passed, transforming a blazing summer into a cold, biting winter. Vermillion City rarely experienced snowfall, but this year was special. The once bustling streets, usually filled with vendors hawking their wares and citizens hurriedly attending to their daily tasks, now glittered with a fresh blanket of snow. Children, with rosy cheeks and bright eyes, played joyfully, building snowmen and engaging in spirited snowball fights. The townspeople, usually burdened by the relentless grind of production and work, found joy in the snowfall, as it had led to a temporary relief in taxes, giving them a rare moment of respite.

    For Zain, this winter was particularly significant. Over the past ten months, he had managed to find an ideal location for his ambitious factory. Although it was situated on the outskirts of the city, nearly beyond its territory, it was a secluded area with very few inhabitants, offering the much-needed secrecy for his operations. The location spanned over a hundred acres of empty land, providing ample room for future growth and expansion.

    Zain had spared no effort or expense for the construction. He had overseen the building of six massive structures, each tailored for different tasks related to the winery. Additionally, he had constructed a large enchanted storehouse for the finished products, comfortable worker quarters, and a grand manor for himself, which included an underground laboratory for his experiments and research.

    All of this, along with recruiting 200 workers and securing raw materials for seven batches of production, had cost him more than half of ''his'' money. He named this industrious place ''Goldflow Valley'' believing it would become the primary source of wealth for the Gremory Dukedom and envisioned it growing into a bustling business hub, a beacon of prosperity.

    Now, the once barren land was teeming with life. Workers moved with purpose, performing their tasks diligently. Zain had allowed them to bring their families, which led to the establishment of a small, vibrant market near the worker quarters. Here, other family members found employment making wine bottles and crafting intricately engraved boxes, contributing to the community''s economy and fostering a sense of belonging.

    It was a typical winter afternoon with a weak, dim sunlight barely piercing through the thick clouds. The six buildings buzzed with activity, each operating at full capacity. The first two buildings were responsible for refining the raw materials and eliminating impurities, ensuring the finest quality. The next two focused on processing and fermenting the raw material, while the last two were dedicated to aging and bottling the exquisite wine.

    Zain, who had turned thirteen eight months ago, now looked like an eighteen-year-old. His rapid physical development often shocked those who knew his true age. His frame had filled out, muscles defined, and his face had lost its childish roundness, replaced by a more mature, determined visage. Currently, he sat in his study, eyes closed, contemplating the myriad details of his intricate plans. The first batch of wine was almost complete, and he eagerly anticipated the first serving, a milestone in his journey.

    ''Clack.''

    The sound of the door opening interrupted his thoughts. An eighteen-year-old boy entered the room carrying a beautifully crafted box. He wore a pristine butler''s outfit, his above-average appearance complemented by a strong physique and an air of maturity beyond his years. This was Chris, the only son of the loyal butler Morris. He walked up to Zain''s desk, placed the box on it, and bowed silently, a picture of disciplined service.

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    Zain opened his eyes to see the elegant box on his desk. It was almond white with a red stag intricately engraved on its surface, a symbol of their house. He opened it slowly, revealing a red glass bottle nestled carefully on white padding to prevent it from breaking. Chris quickly retrieved two wine goblets and a cork opener from the crockery rack, a polished wooden structure standing against the wall. Zain handed him the bottle. Chris opened the cork with practiced ease, and immediately, a mesmerizing fragrance filled the room, rich and inviting.

    He poured the wine into a goblet and took a cautious sip, waiting a few minutes to ensure it wasn''t poisoned before pouring a drink for Zain. Over the past ten months, Chris had earned Zain''s trust by performing every task to the best of his abilities, never once disappointing him. Although the project was Zain''s brainchild, Chris had been the one on the ground, executing the plans meticulously¡ªfrom sourcing raw materials to hiring workers¡ªall under Zain''s precise instructions.

    Zain took a small sip of the wine, savoring its complex flavors before passing the goblet back to Chris. Being still a child, albeit a physically mature one, he couldn''t handle the strong wine, and a small gulp was enough to give him a headache for a week. However, his sheer willpower kept him from succumbing to the temptation of drinking the entire bottle. The wine was incredibly addictive, a testament to their hard work and innovation. Duke Izark, his father, would specifically send messengers to get progress reports, eagerly awaiting the day he could taste the first batch.

    "Chris, what do you think of this wine?" Zain asked, his voice calm but tinged with anticipation.

    "Young master, I have accompanied my father and Lord Duke to many noble gatherings and parties, but I have never tasted anything like this. Even its fragrance surpasses all their so-called top-quality wines." Chris replied, his voice slightly slurred, revealing the wine''s potent effect.

    "Prepare some bottles of wine and a carriage. I am personally taking it to my father. In my absence, you will be in charge until I return. Also, inform Raina that she will accompany me."

    Soon, all the preparations were complete. The carriage, a sturdy yet elegantly decorated vehicle, was readied. Zain, dressed warmly for the journey, left alongside Raina and a few handpicked guards.

    ---

    A few hours later, in Vermillion City, Duke Izark waited for Zain in his study with Morris by his side. The room was grand, with tall bookshelves lining the walls, filled with volumes of history, strategy, and law. A roaring fireplace added warmth to the otherwise cold stone room. Izark had already received news of Zain''s arrival. Soon, Zain entered the room with Raina in tow. Both Zain and Raina bowed deeply to him, and at Zain''s gesture, Raina presented the exquisitely crafted wine box. Izark was momentarily taken aback by the beauty of the box. He inspected it briefly, admiring the craftsmanship before opening it.

    Morris brought forward a goblet and poured the wine into it for the Duke. Given that it was brought by Zain, checking it for poison would have been an insult, so he refrained from doing so. Duke Izark savored the delicate and mouthwatering fragrance of the wine before taking the goblet and gulping it down in one go.

    The heavenly taste of the wine made his body shiver with delight. It was truly the queen of all wines he had ever tasted. It took him a few minutes to come back to his senses, the exquisite flavors lingering on his palate.

    "I award you 100 acres of land for the winery and its surroundings. You can now do everything freely without needing my permission. It''s your land. Kid, this stuff is really addictive." Izark declared, his voice full of admiration and pride.

    Everyone in the room, except Izark, was shocked to the bone. The Duke was well-known for his stinginess when it came to money. If not for saving face, he would have even haggled with hawkers over a single gold coin. But here he was, giving out generous rewards without any hesitation. This spoke volumes about the wine''s unparalleled quality. Zain''s eyes shone with excitement. He knew he had struck a gold mine but hadn''t realized it also contained rare gems.

 Chapter-8 Win Resource, People and Market

    "Are you truly offering me all this?" Zain asked, struggling to accept the reality before him, his voice tinged with disbelief and awe.

    "Yes, of course." Izark replied, savoring yet another cup of the intoxicating wine. After finishing half the bottle, he finally started talking seriously. "I''m giving all that to you. But I want you to change the terms of the agreement. First, you don''t need to pay back the five million gold I gave you. But the profit split will be 90-10. You have no idea how much this wine is going to make. And you don''t need that much; what you''re getting is already ten times what other dukes'' sons get for a monthly allowance."

    This was exactly what Zain had been thinking lately. He realized that the business would be far more profitable than he had initially thought. Even a ten percent share of the profits would be enough to fulfill his every desire, to fund his ambitious plans, and to ensure a comfortable life. So, he agreed to renew the agreement, nodding thoughtfully.

    "So, when can we start selling?" Izark asked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

    "Actually, Father, about that..." Zain began. The wine was ready, and it was certain to shake the market and see its demand skyrocket. However, there were two main problems: production supply and the medium of sale.

    Currently, the winery''s production speed was limited to 200 bottles per month. Each bottle, with its unique flavor and quality, could easily sell for at least 5,000 gold coins, if not more. But at this production rate, they could only cater to a few nobles, not even all the higher-level ones. This exclusivity could create resentment among those left out, potentially harming the business¡¯s reputation if they sold to only a select few.

    Using the family''s existing trade channels was likely a big mistake. The Gremory family, mostly filled with bone-headed individuals who were more suited to wielding swords than handling delicate wine bottles, was not the most suitable for managing the wine trade. So, they had to consider other options.

    Typically, other noble families would go to a merchant guild with which they had dealings and sell products through their channels. However, this wasn''t a viable option either because the Gremory family had no connections with merchants dealing in rations and supplies, let alone fine wine.

    The family mostly bought weapons, and their fields produced enough rations to sustain them. Other goods were traded with vassal families and small traders within the dukedom. Therefore, to avoid sharing profits and the wine formula, dealing through weapons merchants or vassal families was not an option.

    This left them with only one choice: building their own merchant guild. Many nobles did this to expand their networks and wealth, giving them better control over resources and trade routes.

    "Zain, do you think it''s that easy to go and set up a guild? It requires many resources to sell, people to manage, and a market to sell in. Have you thought about that?" Izark asked, skepticism clear in his voice.

    "Jeez... Father, you¡¯ve known me since my birth. Have I ever been without a plan? Besides, this time we don''t even need a new one. We just have to change some rules of the game."

    "What do you mean?" Izark asked, on the verge of losing his patience with Zain''s cryptic explanations.

    "I mean that the resources, people, and market are already present. We just have to own the resources, hire the people, and enter the market." Zain explained, a confident smile playing on his lips.

    Izark was ready to punch Zain¡¯s pretty face. He was sick of his son''s ''figure it out yourself'' games. He wanted a straightforward answer. "Zain, if you keep talking like some half-assed bard, I will beat the crap out of you."

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    "Haha... Why are you so angry? Okay, I''ll dumb it down for you." Zain said, though the Duke found the statement a little offensive, he continued to listen.

    Zain''s idea was to monopolize the dukedom''s food production. By changing the rules, he meant altering the law from farmers having to pay taxes after selling their crops to requiring farmers to sell their crops to the Gremory family at a lower price but with no taxes to be paid. The lower price would make up for the loss in tax revenue and could turn into a profit if the family increased the selling price slightly. Given that they would be selling thousands of tonnes of rations, even a small margin increase could result in millions of gold coins in profit. This solved the problem of resources.

    Regarding managing people, most of the merchant guilds in the dukedom dealt with rations, grains, and supplies. By introducing this new law, these guilds, without resources to trade, would perish. Zain''s plan was to hire all the experts from these guilds to create his own guild and use the others for transactions with farmers and maintaining supply. This would greatly help both him and the people, solving the problem of manpower.

    The third problem was already solved. The buyers who previously bought from small-scale guilds would now have to buy from the Gremory guild. It would be their only choice.

    Zain finished outlining the details of his plan. When he looked at the faces of those present, he saw respect, admiration, and greed. Although the plan seemed simple to Zain, to others, it was a brilliant strategy that could bring millions in profit. And all this was coming from a thirteen-year-old child.

    "Hey! Don''t look at me like I''m a golden egg-laying goose! Hahaha..."

    "THAT''S EXACTLY WHAT YOU ARE!!" everyone in the room exclaimed in unison, their voices echoing with a mixture of astonishment and excitement.

    "Okay, it''s a good time to start with our plans. Because of this rare snowfall, most businesses are temporarily halted. It gives us the perfect opportunity to implement big changes to the system without causing much uproar. But still, there will be uneasiness, and I have exactly what it takes to calm it down. I need the support of all of you for this."

    "You already have it, don''t you?" Izark replied, his stern face softening into a rare smile.

    "Yeah, yeah, just making sure..." Zain said, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. With the full support of his father and the others, he was ready to take the first steps toward transforming his ambitious plans into reality.

    As the meeting concluded, Zain couldn''t help but feel a surge of excitement. The future of the Gremory Dukedom looked brighter than ever. He had the support, the plans, and the determination to achieve greatness. The legacy of the Gremory family would be built on hard work, innovation, and the vision of a remarkable young boy.

    The room, now clearing out, seemed to hum with the energy of their collective anticipation. Zain looked around, absorbing the ornate decor that symbolized their family''s long-standing power and influence. He noticed the intricate tapestries depicting historic battles and noble deeds, feeling a connection to his ancestors and a desire to add his own chapter to their storied history.

    As he stepped out into the cold, crisp air, the snow crunching beneath his boots, Zain couldn''t help but think about the journey ahead. He watched his breath form misty clouds in the air, feeling the weight of his responsibilities, but also the thrill of the challenge. He knew that the road to success would be fraught with obstacles, but with his father''s trust and the unwavering support of his closest allies, he felt invincible.

    Zain''s thoughts drifted to the workers at Goldflow Valley, who had put their faith in his vision. He imagined their faces, weathered and hopeful, working tirelessly to bring his dream to life. He felt a deep sense of gratitude and responsibility towards them, vowing to ensure that their efforts would not be in vain.

    Back at Goldflow Valley, the buildings stood tall and proud against the snowy landscape. The workers, bundled in thick coats and gloves, continued their tasks with determination. The market near the worker quarters bustled with activity, families buying and selling goods, children laughing and playing. It was a thriving community.

    As Zain rode back in the carriage, he glanced at Raina, who sat beside him. She had been a loyal companion, always ready to assist and support him. Her presence was a comforting reminder that he was not alone in this endeavor.

    "Raina, what do you think about all this?" Zain asked, breaking the silence.

    "I think you''re going to change the Dukedom, young master." Raina replied, her voice filled with admiration and confidence.

 Chapter-9 Preparation Begins

    At Vermilion palace, Izark had summoned his most trusted aides to the grand assembly hall of the Gremory estate. The hall, with its high vaulted ceilings and walls adorned with tapestries depicting the illustrious history of the Gremory lineage, provided an imposing backdrop for the gathering. Nearly three hundred of his most loyal warriors and clerks filled the space, their anticipation palpable. Zain had servants circulate among them, serving cups of wine to ease any tensions before he began explaining the basic plan and assigning tasks.

    "Our first target is the people." Zain began, his voice echoing slightly in the vast chamber. "When the new law is announced, I want you all to ensure that everyone understands its advantages."

    He described the benefits for the people, weaving a narrative that painted a picture of a more prosperous and equitable future. They would set up large warehouses throughout the dukedom, strategically located so that farmers wouldn''t have to travel far to sell their goods. The Gremory family would buy items at a uniform price across the region, eliminating the losses farmers faced when selling to unscrupulous merchants. Although the prices might be slightly lower than what some merchants offered, the crucial advantage was that farmers wouldn''t have to pay any sales tax, making it a far better deal overall.

    Zain continued, his words flowing with a persuasive rhythm. The Gremory family would then sell rations and grains to the residents at the same price they paid farmers, meaning no profit for the family initially. This arrangement would make the Gremory family the preferred seller over merchants who charged higher prices due to their profit margins.

    "This arrangement is ideal for the people." Zain emphasized, his eyes scanning the faces of those present. "Farmers won''t have to pay taxes or travel long distances to find buyers, and common people will get goods at cheaper rates."

    As he spoke, the image of bustling markets filled the minds of his audience, markets where goods were affordable and abundant. The hum of approval that spread through the room was almost tangible.

    "Until now, the Gremory family wouldn''t make any profit or suffer any loss." Zain continued, drawing their attention back. "Now, let''s talk about the benefits for the Gremory household."

    The Gremory dukedom, renowned for its fertile lands that stretched as far as the eye could see, produced seventy percent of the food and grains in the northeastern Zinovia empire. Only twenty percent of this bountiful production was needed to feed the residents of the dukedom; the rest was traded to other nobles and territories.

    Previously, small guilds and independent traders handled the food trade. But with the new law, the entire supply chain would fall into the Gremory family''s hands, making them the leading sellers of grains and rations. A slight increase in prices would result in massive profits, amounting to millions of gold coins.

    The room buzzed with renewed excitement as Zain elaborated on the potential profits. The expressions of the gathered aides shifted from curiosity to eager anticipation. Even a small share of the profit, they realized, would be equivalent to five years of their salary, motivating them to ensure the plan''s success.

    "Oh yes, just to remind you, based on my calculations, the profit will be near twenty million gold coins." Zain announced with a confident smile.

    A dead silence followed his words. Everyone was stunned by the staggering amount, but this only strengthened their determination. Every single one of them, except Izark, Morris, and his knights, dropped to their knees in a show of absolute fealty.

    "We swear a bloodline oath to serve the Gremory household till our last breath." they vowed in unison, their voices resonating with solemnity and resolve.

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    The bloodline oath was a powerful pledge with severe consequences for the oath-breaker and their descendants. It meant that from now on, they were bound to the Gremory household.

    Zain looked at Izark, signaling him to take action. Izark understood and stepped forward, his imposing figure commanding attention.

    "As a reward for swearing this oath, I will give you all a ten percent share of the profit. It will be divided based on your ranks and accomplishments. From now on, you all are members of the Gremory household. Any disgrace against you is a disgrace against the Gremory household."

    The Duke''s words brought unending joy to his followers. Their faces lit up with gratitude and admiration, their eyes shining with renewed loyalty. Zain gave a discreet thumbs-up to Izark, knowing these were the best words he could have said to cement their allegiance.

    "Okay, now don''t get carried away. There''s a second part to this plan." Zain continued, his tone turning serious. All attention returned to him as he explained the difficult part involving the merchants who would undoubtedly be displeased with the new law. They had to ensure these merchants couldn''t revolt against it.

    "First, we need to cut off their support. By that, I mean the merchant guilds supported by small noble families or other influential backers. Make their support vanish by any means necessary¡ªpay them, scare them, anything. There are not more than ten of these key guilds."

    "For the rest, buy them out and hire them for our new guild and the upkeep of the warehouses we''ll be setting up. Be meticulous when hiring; many small guilds are operated by outside forces. Double-check their backgrounds."

    "And yes, hire based on talent and loyalty, nothing else. Morris and Raina will be in charge of this. I recommend you start with the plans before announcing the law. It will be more effective that way. I''ve explained everything. Now, it''s time for you to do the detailed planning. I need some rest. Raina will update me. Goodbye!"

    Zain bowed and was about to leave but stopped, as if struck by a sudden thought. "Oh, I forgot. The name of the new guild will be the Royal Stag Guild. It will have five guild masters. Decisions will be taken by majority vote. Raina has one seat and will represent me. The remaining four seats are up to the Duke."

    After saying that, he left. The room was silent for a few seconds before erupting in animated discussion. The aides began fervently planning ideas to ensure the mission''s success, driven by the tantalizing prospect of the gold coins they could earn.

    When the temptation is this huge, anyone would do anything in their power to get it. Even Izark was surprised to see his followers coming up with one good plan after another. Without any quarrel, they divided tasks and ensured no problems were overlooked before leaving the room with huge enthusiasm.

    In the end, only Izark, Morris, Raina, and a few close aides remained. They knew the plan was ambitious but had the potential to transform the Gremory household¡¯s future.

    As the assembly hall emptied, Izark watched his followers depart with a sense of pride and optimism. The long shadows cast by the flickering torches seemed to whisper of the changes to come. The room, now quieter, held the echoes of their fervent discussions, a testament to the monumental decisions made within its walls.

    Izark turned to his son, Morris, and Raina, his closest confidants. "We have a lot of work ahead of us." he said, his voice steady but tinged with excitement. "Let''s make sure we don''t waste any time."

    Morris nodded, his sharp eyes reflecting his determination. "We should start by identifying those key guilds and figuring out the best approach to neutralize their influence."

    Raina, ever the strategist, added, "I''ll begin drafting a list of potential recruits for our guild. We need the best minds and the most loyal hearts."

    Izark placed a hand on each of their shoulders, a rare gesture of affection. "We are on the brink of something great. Let''s ensure that every step we take is in the right direction."

    Inside the estate, Zain retired to his quarters, his mind buzzing with the day''s events. He sat by the window, looking out at the snow-covered landscape, and let his thoughts drift. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere of introspection.

    He thought about the farmers who would benefit from the new laws, the clerks and warriors who had pledged their loyalty, and the vast network of trade they were about to control. His heart swelled with a mixture of pride and responsibility. This was not just about wealth; it was about creating a legacy, a future where the Gremory name would be synonymous with prosperity and innovation.

    As he drifted into sleep, Zain dreamed of bustling markets, fields of golden grain, and the satisfied smiles of his people. The path was clear, and the future was bright. With determination and unity, they would turn these dreams into reality, forging a new chapter in the history of the Gremory family.

 Chapter-10 Power System and Miraz Plane

    Izark and his eleven knights were more than just his subordinates; they were his comrades, his closest allies, bound by countless shared battles and unwavering loyalty. He relied on them the most during difficult times, trusting them with his life and the fate of the Gremory household. As everyone else filed out of the room, they dropped the act of pleasantries, their camaraderie allowing for more candid conversations.

    "Izark, you knew about this?" Raiser asked, breaking the silence that had settled over them. His voice held a note of suspicion, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Izark.

    "What do you mean, Raiser?" Izark responded, raising an eyebrow in genuine curiosity.

    "I mean when he was saying all those things. It was as if they were being dominated by his speech. What do you think? They didn''t seem like themselves." Raiser explained, his tone laced with unease.

    "They didn''t take the oath out of loyalty to the Gremory family. It was their greed for money that clouded their thoughts. But even so, no one is impulsive enough to throw away their freedom without some influence." Raiser said, his expression thoughtful.

    "It seems Duke Izark Gremory has relied on some underhanded methods. Well, what does that have to do with me? It''s good they swore loyalty to the Gremory family." Raiser said dismissively, his demeanor shifting to one of pragmatic indifference. "I am leaving today for the family''s planes. Morris, pack some of this wine. Goodbye."

    With that, Raiser turned on his heel and left the room, his departure marked by the soft swish of his cloak.

    "Say what you will, but that guy has a sharp mind. Hahaha..." Izark laughed, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room.

    "You''re right, Master. Commander Raiser has always been quick-witted." Morris agreed, his admiration for Raiser evident in his voice.

    "So, you did do something." Raina said, coming to a realization, her eyes narrowing as she studied Izark more closely.

    "Miss Raina, it''s only for the betterment of the Dukedom. What we should focus on right now is the young master''s plan and his nurturing." Morris interjected, his tone pragmatic and measured.

    "Yes, Morris. I am thinking the same thing. Well, deliver him some books on the power system and other relevant topics. I''m sure he will surprise us. Let''s get to work now." Raina said, her voice resolute.

    What Raina and Raiser didn''t know was that, at Zain''s suggestion, Izark had spent the remaining two and a half million gold coins to buy high-grade charm potions. He had mixed them into the wine to subtly meddle with their thought processes and make them swear a bloodline oath.

    As Zain had wisely remarked, "For the Duke to grow, the loyalty of his subjects must also grow. Otherwise, the Duke may never know when he might face the blade of betrayal." Izark thought it was only right.

    The wine had blurred their thought processes, leading them to make decisions in the heat of the moment. The wine alone was potent enough to make someone like Izark drunk, and the high-grade charm potion did the rest. Izark had waited for the perfect moment to act. All of them were already loyal to the Gremory family and wished for wealth. The wine and charm potion heightened these feelings a hundredfold, leading them to make a hasty decision they believed wholeheartedly.

    ---

    A week passed in the blink of an eye. The entire palace was bustling with activity, preparing for significant changes that would soon sweep through the Gremory Dukedom. Servants hurried through the halls, carrying messages and supplies, their faces etched with the excitement and tension of the impending transformations. The air was thick with the scent of freshly polished wood and the soft murmur of urgent conversations.

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    Zain, however, remained an island of calm amidst the storm of preparations. He lay on his bed, a book in hand, a huge pile of other books stacked nearby. The large windows of his chamber let in the gentle light of the morning sun, casting a serene glow over the room. These were the books Morris had delivered to him five days ago. Zain had gone through them several times, meticulously absorbing every detail to ensure he missed nothing. Now, he knows the basic power system of these planes.

    There were many professions in the Myriad Worlds, such as mages, warriors, assassins, marksmen, and necromancers. However, to have a universal scale of power, there was a set system for it. He marveled at the structure and order that defined the vast array of abilities and strengths.

    There were six realms, each with nine stages:

    First came the Acolyte Realm, where most common warriors and mages resided. They were the preparatory ranks. Although it was a significant achievement for commoners, they were just cannon fodder for those in the upper realms. These individuals, often marked by a rugged determination, filled the ranks of small armies and local militias, their skills honed through sheer willpower and necessity.

    Then came the Master Realm. They were considered elite troops of small nobles. In a big noble household, they were just better troops than common soldiers, often seen as the backbone of a noble''s military might, their presence a reassuring symbol of competence and strength.

    After that was the Saint Realm. These individuals were the main forces of a family. They mostly held commanding positions in the army and were treated much better. They were regarded as elites, their prowess and leadership skills elevating them to positions of great influence and respect within their circles.

    Then came the Sage Realm. They were the core of the family. Even in the most prominent noble families, they numbered no more than fifty. They were reserved for significant missions and battles, so they rarely appeared. These figures were often cloaked in mystery, their movements and actions shrouded in secrecy, emerging only when their family''s honor or survival was at stake.

    Next was the Mythic Realm. They represented power. Even Nobles must pay respects to them. They were found in powerful families. The Royal family of the Zinovia Empire would have only a couple of hundred at most. These were the heroes of legend, their names and deeds whispered with awe and reverence.

    Following this was the Apex Realm. Across the entire Miraz plane, there were only a few hundred of these individuals. They led planar wars and could decide battles with a single move. Their presence on the battlefield was like a force of nature, their mere presence shifting the tides of war.

    Beyond these realms were the Novas. You could count them on your hands. They were the protectors of the planes and only fought other Novas. They represented the strength of a plane, their power and influence extending across the very fabric of existence.

    A plane with a Nova was considered a primary plane, meaning it had enough resources to produce a Nova. Those without one were considered secondary. This distinction shaped the politics and alliances of the planes, determining their place in the grand hierarchy of the universe.

    The Miraz plane currently had thirteen Novas. The Zinovia Empire had three of them. The presence of so many Novas was for a reason¡ªa bad one. The Miraz plane was at war with five primary planes, each having at least three Novas. These conflicts were titanic in scale, with each side wielding powers that could reshape worlds.

    The Novas of Miraz had shown their presence, which was why the primary planes were not attacking with full force. They didn''t want the thirteen Novas to retaliate simultaneously. If all the attacking planes were to move together, the Miraz plane would be outnumbered. But this couldn''t happen, as they couldn''t contact each other¡ªat least not for now.

    The Miraz plane was part of the Albion Alliance, which consisted of forty primary planes. Miraz was ranked first in power, but due to its forces being spread out because of wars, it was more or less equal to the other top five planes. This delicate balance of power kept the alliance in a state of cautious cooperation, each member mindful of their position and the potential for betrayal.

    The alliance had its main base on a plane called Oasis. This was where the meetings of the alliance took place. It wasn''t restricted to meetings alone; it was a place where you could find anything you wanted, provided you offered the right price. The bustling markets of Oasis were filled with exotic goods and rare artifacts, their stalls manned by traders from every corner of the known universe.

    Oasis was a trading center for the forty powerful planes. Only the most powerful families of those planes could own land there. So, everyone present in Oasis was a big shot with the backing of a powerful family.

 Chapter-11 Settling In and New Changes

    The Gremory family, while maintaining a stronghold in Oasis, found their influence somewhat limited compared to the more prominent Dukes. Their estate, though modest by Oasis standards, was a symbol of their enduring strength and resilience. The stone walls, adorned with tapestries bearing the Gremory crest, stood as a testament to their heritage. Despite their lesser standing, no one dared to provoke them. The Gremory family boasted a formidable force of five Apex Realm experts, a power not easily dismissed or challenged.

    The five Apex experts were Izark, Raiser, Raina, and two of Izark''s other followers, Welfin and Jimin. Each had carved out a reputation for themselves through countless battles and victories in planar wars. Their prowess had earned Izark the ominous nickname of "Grim Reaper" and his followers the fearsome title of "Death Knights." Their very presence exuded an aura of menace and power, a silent warning to all who might consider crossing them.

    In Oasis, a realm where power was the ultimate currency, respect was accorded to those who wielded it with authority. Consequently, the Gremory family, despite their modest economic status, commanded a level of deference born out of fear and respect. Their wealth, though not immense, had been sufficient to deter any would-be challengers. No one wished to incite conflict with such a formidable force without substantial incentive or reward.

    Oasis itself was most renowned for its Ivory Wisdom Academy, an institution with a storied history of producing unparalleled talents in various fields. The academy had birthed numerous great mages, warriors, clerics, and scholars, each contributing to the grandeur of the planes they hailed from. Every plane within the Albion Alliance vied fiercely for the most seats in the academy, recognizing the prestige and power that came with such positions.

    However, the entrance requirements for the Ivory Wisdom Academy were notoriously high. Even individuals considered super geniuses sometimes failed to gain admission, their dreams dashed by the rigorous standards. Nonetheless, the academy consistently produced the most powerful figures, their names echoing through the annals of history.

    "Hmm... I need to check this place out." Zain mused, his curiosity piqued by what he had read about the academy. The allure of its hallowed halls, filled with the echoes of countless brilliant minds, beckoned to him.

    ---

    In the following weeks, the Gremory Dukedom underwent significant changes, particularly in its ruling and trading systems. The construction of numerous large and small warehouses throughout the territory was met with mixed reactions. Initially, there were fears that this would bring chaos, but remarkably, not even a minor scuffle broke out.

    Farmers and commoners, long burdened by taxes and high prices, were delighted as they received much-needed relief. The elimination of oppressive taxes and the decrease in the prices of goods brought about a wave of joy. The entire territory buzzed with happiness, families that had previously struggled to secure three meals a day now finding themselves well-fed and content.

    Contrary to expectations, the merchant guilds reacted positively to these changes. Many chose to join the newly formed Royal Stag Guild, while others found employment managing the warehouses and handling various tasks. This shift was a boon for them, as they now served directly under the Duke, enjoying strong support and high pay.

    Of course, some nobles and merchants attempted to scheme in the shadows, seeking to undermine the new order. However, the Gremory family, vigilant and decisive, swiftly rooted out these threats. With strategic precision, they neutralized potential dissenters, further solidifying their control. Now, the Gremory family controlled seventy percent of the market within the Dukedom, a significant and strategic achievement.

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    All the officials and important members of the family were engrossed in preparing for the next harvest season. They busied themselves with setting up and managing warehouses, negotiating with farmers, and drafting contracts for the sale of crops.

    The farmers, pleased with the elimination of taxes and the absence of merchant thugs, found the process remarkably smooth. The people of the Dukedom rejoiced, no longer burdened by taxes on food. This newfound freedom fostered a sense of unity and purpose, as everyone worked towards a prosperous future.

    A major task lay in stabilizing the new guild, which had just absorbed dozens of smaller guilds. The resulting internal conflicts were a source of frustration for Raina and Morris, who worked tirelessly to manage the discord.

    However, the strife ceased after Izark appointed Guild Masters. Raina, Morris, Jimin, and two high-level guild masters who had sworn loyalty to the Gremory family assumed these roles. Their efforts to manage internal conflicts and ensure the efficient operation of the guild soon bore fruit, bringing a semblance of order and stability.

    Soon, everything stabilized, and winter passed, giving way to the vibrant promise of spring. It was a time of peace and renewal, with commoners preparing for the bountiful harvest and nobles indulging in their opulent parties. The fields, lush and green, promised a season of plenty, while the nobles'' laughter echoed through the grand halls of their estates.

    ---

    The palace of Vermillion City had become much noisier following the recent changes. The usually serene corridors now bustled with activity, the sound of hurried footsteps and lively conversations filling the air. Soldiers and servants, each absorbed in their tasks, moved with purpose, lending the palace an energetic vibe.

    Zain, however, had immersed himself in his studies, locking himself in his room for a month. Not even Lily and Ruby, his closest companions, could persuade him to come out. The allure of knowledge and the drive to master the intricacies of power consumed him.

    Izark, though proud of his son''s dedication, was increasingly irritated by his prolonged absence. He often needed Zain''s intelligence and strategic mind, especially with time passing quickly and numerous plans requiring his input.

    In Izark''s room, he sat at his ornate desk, papers and maps spread before him. Raina and Morris stood before him, their expressions a mix of awkwardness and concern.

    "What in the world is that kid doing in his room for a month?" Izark''s voice was tinged with frustration, his patience wearing thin.

    "My lord, maybe I gave him more books than I should have. Forgive me, my lord. But the young master will surely come as..."

    Just then, the door creaked open, and Zain entered the room.

    "I am here. Let''s discuss the plans." he said, his voice weary yet determined.

    Zain had dark circles under his eyes, a testament to his sleep-deprived state. He lazily stumbled onto a couch in the room, his movements sluggish.

    Izark, irritated by his son''s disheveled appearance and nonchalant behavior, reached for a bottle of wine. As he uncorked it, the rich aroma of the unaged wine filled the room.

    "What are you doing?" Zain asked, his eyes narrowing in concern.

    "What? Do I need your permission to drink?" Izark retorted, his tone defensive.

    "Why are you drinking wine that hasn''t passed the aging process? Didn''t Chris warn you against that?" Zain''s voice was sharp, his concern genuine.

    "You really think he can stop me from doing what I want? Hahaha... And about the wine, I just wanted to try some unaged wine." Izark said, an amused smile playing on his lips as he raised the bottle.

    Zain leaned back on the couch, his eyes still fixed on Izark. He began humming a soft tune, a habit that often indicated he was deep in thought. Izark hesitated, the bottle poised in mid-air.

    "Oh... Why did you stop? Come on, drink it." Zain goaded, his voice teasing yet serious.

    Izark couldn''t bring himself to drink it. He replaced the cork and set the bottle back on the table, his eyes meeting Zain''s.

    "Wise choice. It has poison in it." Zain revealed, his tone matter-of-fact.

    "What!!!!" Everyone in the room screamed, their shock palpable.

 Chapter-12 Scorpion Poisoned Wine

    Everyone''s focus was riveted on Zain, who lay sprawled on the grandiose, velvet-upholstered couch in the opulent parlor. Despite the tense atmosphere, he seemed oblivious, his eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion. He desperately wanted to sleep, having spent the past few nights wrestling with insomnia. The fatigue etched into his features told a tale of restless nights and ceaseless thoughts.

    "What the hell are you saying? This wine contains poison? Explain!" Izark bellowed, his voice echoing off the marble walls and causing the crystal chandelier to tremble slightly.

    Zain barely stirred. "Okay, don''t hurt my eardrums." he muttered, his voice tinged with irritation. "Why do you think the wine has such a unique flavor and tastes as if it had been aged for a hundred years? It''s because of the Paroma Scorpion Venom."

    The Paroma Scorpion was a deadly creature, a myth in many circles, dwelling deep underground and found only in the heart of the desert. Legends told of their elusive nature and lethal sting. Their venom was famed among assassins for being undetectable, rendering its victim lifeless within seconds without leaving a trace. It was said that the scorpions glowed faintly in the moonlight, their venom sacs a precious, dangerous treasure.

    Detecting and treating the venom was a Herculean task, fraught with peril. Procuring it required the skill of a seasoned hunter, for the Paroma Scorpion was notoriously difficult to locate. Extracting the venom sacs demanded utmost precision; a single mistake could render the poison useless, as its potency diminished rapidly. This rarity and danger meant it commanded a high price in the underworld markets.

    "Why the hell are you using it to make wine? Are you out of your mind?" Izark''s voice was a mixture of disbelief and fury, his eyes blazing with anger.

    "Relax." Zain began, his tone weary but confident.

    "Relax? How can I relax when you are poisoning me and everyone else who drinks this wine?" Izark''s face was flushed with rage, his fists clenched at his sides.

    Zain sighed, clearly exasperated by Izark''s tendency to jump to conclusions. After ten minutes of relentless yelling, Izark finally paused, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

    "Finally, done. Now listen to me. Do you think I don''t know this is dangerous? I''ve conducted numerous experiments with various animals. The venom completely vanishes after fifteen days of being dissolved in any solution."

    "But it helps in the fermentation and aging of the wine. It gives the wine a unique flavor, making it taste as if it has been aged for years. The venom is mixed with the wine before fermentation and left for fifteen days. During this time, the venom aids in fermentation and aging, then completely dissolves, nullifying any poison. So, it''s not poisonous."

    "But drinking it before the process is complete could be deadly. Of course, for an expert like you, it poses no threat. So, you can have it, but it won''t taste good."

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    Izark, momentarily at a loss for words, stared at his son. His mind churned with conflicting emotions: pride at Zain''s ingenuity and fear for the risks involved. When Zain saw that his father was really angry, he finally straightened up and looked more attentive.

    "WHY WOULD YOU USE POI..." Izark cut himself off, glancing around warily. Even walls have ears, and he didn''t want this explosive news to escape the confines of their private meeting.

    "Give me one reason why you would use poison to make wine? Heck, where did you even get this poison?" Izark demanded, his voice a low growl.

    A sly smile crept across Zain''s face. "Don''t you remember when you tasked Morris with killing all those old men in the family who were planning resistance against you? The servant in charge of procuring poison for the assassination gave me a living Paroma Scorpion when I asked him ''nicely''."

    "It was a female, about to lay eggs. So, I created an environment where the Paroma Scorpion could live and breed. Right now, I have more than a hundred scorpions in my manor''s basement. I can only maintain that many."

    "And why use poison? It''s simple. Who in their right mind would think of making wine using poison? I discovered this technique accidentally because of that book by Goya Stonehill. So, we don''t have to worry about our secret being copied. Only people in this room and Chris know about it."

    Izark''s eyes widened in shock. The mission had been shrouded in secrecy. Other than him, Morris, and his loyal servants who had carried out the orders, no one was supposed to know about it. The fact that Zain had managed to raise Paroma Scorpions was an astounding feat. Their venom was always in high demand, a prized commodity among those who dealt in death. His reasoning was sound, but it did little to alleviate Izark''s concern.

    "Why do you look so shocked? It was easy to see the truth behind the so-called ''tragedies''. Only those who died were against you. If I were in your place, I would have had some of our supporters act sick for a while to make it more believable. And you would never want to experience how difficult it is to raise the Paroma Scorpion."

    Izark let out a frustrated groan. "Agh... what? Just forget about it. Let''s talk about our future plans. When are we going to begin our sales? Now that we have six hundred bottles of wine, should we start selling?" His voice was weary, tinged with resignation.

    Zain pondered for a moment, his gaze distant. "No, I want to make it a big event. Can Father throw a party where even the Emperor would attend? We can launch our wine there."

    "If I call in some favors, I can ensure the Emperor attends. It would also cost a lot to hold a suitable event, but it can be done. What would be the reason for this event?" Izark''s mind was already racing, calculating the logistics and potential outcomes.

    When Izark asked this, both Morris and Raina, who had been silent during the conversation, suddenly spoke in unison.

    "I have a proposal, my lord." they said, their voices harmonizing in unexpected agreement.

    "Morris, you go first." Izark directed, curious about the alignment of their thoughts.

    "Master, I think Raina and I have the same thought. My young master will turn fourteen in four months. I think that would be the best occasion for a celebration."

    Raina nodded in agreement, her eyes shining with excitement. However, Zain''s expression soured at the suggestion.

    "Though I don''t like the idea of being paraded around like some rare animal, I can''t think of a better occasion. It would be four months away, giving us plenty of time to prepare. Also, Father, you will be receiving quite a gift from me after the harvest next month." Zain said, his tone begrudging but accepting.

    Izark was intrigued but chose not to press for details. Instead, he shifted the conversation to another pressing matter. "Now, what about your training?"

    "MY WHAT?!!" Zain''s exclamation was a mixture of surprise and dread, his fatigue momentarily forgotten.

 Chapter-13 Mothers Voice

    "What are you talking about?" Zain''s voice echoed through the room, his confusion palpable.

    Zain was utterly clueless about this ''training.''

    "Your training is about awakening your inner force and Mana forge." Izark explained, his tone measured and serious, as if he were unveiling a great secret.

    Suddenly, Zain''s eyes widened in realization. These were the foundational elements required for becoming an Acolyte Realm expert. In their world, it was common knowledge that most people could easily awaken both their inner force and Mana forge, yet mastering them was an entirely different matter.

    Inner force was the raw energy generated by the body to enhance and strengthen physical capabilities. As the quantity and quality of inner force grew, so did an individual''s power. This was the primary focus for professions such as Warriors, Assassins, Raiders, and Dragonkins, who relied on their physical prowess and endurance in battle.

    Mana forge, on the other hand, was the delicate art of manipulating the elements to cast spells, create runes, and perform other magical feats. It was essential for Mages, Summoners, Liches, and similar professions, whose powers were rooted in their command of the arcane.

    There were also rare individuals known as ''Adepts'' who progressed in both Inner Force and Mana Forge. These individuals were generally more powerful at the same stage of development but had to put in much more effort to cultivate both aspects simultaneously. Otherwise, they risked being left behind by their peers who focused on just one.

    In a primary plane, it was easier to awaken both inner force and Mana Forge, but progressing in both was difficult. That''s why most people focused on one, with only some progress in the other.

    It was very rare for commoners and small nobles to advance beyond the Acolyte Realm. Typically, only old noble households had the resources for further progress. Among nobles, there was a coming-of-age ceremony for the young heirs to showcase their power and knowledge.

    The same held true for the Gremory household. If they were going to hold Zain''s first party, he had to demonstrate his talent in front of other nobles. He would also be carrying the honor of the Gremory family, which meant he had to ensure he did not bring shame upon the family name through incompetence.

    "That''s a problem." Zain said with a calm expression.

    "What do you mean by a problem? Are you afraid of performing in front of so many people? Or do you worry that you won''t have a chance to talk with beautiful girls?" Izark asked, appearing genuinely concerned.

    "Stop spouting nonsense. It''s none of that. I haven''t awakened my inner force or Mana Forge. What am I supposed to do? Morris provided me with enough books about awakening them, but I tried for a whole month to no avail."

    Izark was also confused.

    "I know the best genius of this generation, Yogi of the Holy Moon Alliance. He currently holds the record for the earliest awakening, at ten years old. You''re almost fourteen, but your body''s growth has been amazing. I think you should be able to do it."

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    Zain was already five and a half feet tall and had a muscular build. No one would guess he was only thirteen.

    Izark looked out of the window and muttered, "If your mother were here, she would have found a solution within seconds."

    Zain heard it too. He got up from the couch. "I know what to do. Thanks for your help. You all can start with the preparations. I will come to you when I am ready."

    And he ran off to his room.

    ***

    In Zain''s room, he stood in front of the egg placed on his bed. He placed both his hands on the egg, circulating his energy through it. He closed his eyes and focused.

    In the vast sea of his consciousness, his body floated in an empty dark void. This was the first time he entered this state. He had read about it in one of the books; it wasn''t brief, but he knew it was closely related to ancient meditation techniques.

    He wandered around in that void for some time. Just as he was about to leave, he saw a glimpse of something. He was drawn to it. Without thinking, his body started moving toward it as if possessed.

    Nearing the light, he noticed it was a large blood-red flame. When he reached close enough, he felt a tinge of heat, but it wasn''t from the red flame. Beside the red flame was a tiny purple one, so small it wasn''t even a thousandth of the size of the red flame.

    He observed it for quite a while. Then he noticed a change in the small flame. It was moving toward him, but he didn''t feel any danger from it; instead, he felt a sense of love. He reached out his hand. As soon as he touched it, the flame extinguished.

    ''Zain''

    He heard someone calling his name. It was a sweet voice, filled with care and love. A word came out of his mouth without him realizing it.

    "Mother?"

    Many emotions welled up in Zain''s mind.

    ''Zain, my baby. Listen carefully, this is a small fragment of my soul. You have to pay attention to what I say, okay?''

    "Yes, mother."

    ''Baby, reach out your hand to the flame.''

    As he touched the flame, it engulfed him, and a crystal sphere formed around him. In his sea of consciousness, he appeared as if he was a round dark red ball in space.

    ''This is now your complete soul form. Your soul is now connected with your inner force and magic core. I will give you a soul-training technique. It is called Blood-Soul Aria, used by ancient bloodlines to advance.''

    ''This meditation technique might be the only one that can suit you. You might be the only person who has both chaos and destruction energy in the entire myriad sea. They are both very calamitous. It is very easy to lose control over them. Be careful when dealing with them.''

    ''It is an Adept-type technique, so you can progress in both Inner Force and Mana Forge simultaneously without needing to focus on one at a time. This will save you a lot of time.''

    After saying that, a lot of information flowed into Zain''s mind. It explained how to form a magic core with the help of astral energy, ignite inner force, and much more.

    ''Baby, I am sorry that I can''t be at your side. This is the least I could do. I have also provided you with a friend in the egg. It is the egg of the strongest Abyssal Dragon from ancient times. Only your destructive mana can bring him to life.''

    ''You don''t know how much I want to hug you and spoil you, but I can''t. Zain, get stronger for your mama. And yes, obey your father. He might appear rude and stupid, but he really loves you. Now, I have to go. I am sure we will meet in the future. Goodbye for now, baby. Always know that mama loves you.''

    ***

    Back in Zain''s room, he returned to his normal state. A sorrowful expression was on his face. His eyes were still closed, but tears dripped from the sides. Many emotions welled up inside him.

    He had never felt this way before because a part of his mother had always been with him, but now there was a sense of emptiness. Just experiencing his mother''s care and love through her voice, he felt a longing for her.

    But he had no idea where she was or what kind of person she was. He didn''t even know what she looked like. He was very emotional.

    His thought process was interrupted by a sound.

    ''Crack''

    The egg finally hatched.

 Chapter-14 An Abyssal Dragon

    Zain got goosebumps when he saw the cracked egg. A terrifying aura emanated from it, filling the room with a palpable sense of foreboding. Through the crack, a baby dragon could be seen inside, struggling to break free from the eggshell, its tiny form writhing against the confining shell.

    After breaking the shell, the dragon struggled due to pieces sticking to its body from the viscous fluids. It started eating the eggshell, and one by one, the huge chunks of the shell disappeared into its mouth with a crunch. The sound of cracking echoed through the room, each piece vanishing into the dragon''s maw, its hunger seemingly insatiable.

    Finally, after licking off the fluids from its body with a long, serpentine tongue, the dragon revealed its full form. It had black scales all over its body that shimmered like polished onyx under the dim light, red eyes that glowed with an inner fire, dagger-like claws, sharp teeth that glinted menacingly, and blade-like scales that ran down its back and tail. Standing over two meters tall on all four limbs, it looked quite alarming, its presence dominating the room.

    The dragon looked straight into Zain''s eyes, its gaze intense and unyielding. Zain remained on guard, uncertain about what the baby dragon might do. If it decided to pounce, Zain knew he would be torn apart before making a sound. The tension in the room was thick, a standoff between two beings just beginning to understand each other.

    The dragon moved towards Zain, each step deliberate and measured. Then, to Zain''s surprise, it began rubbing its big head against his chest, a gesture of unexpected affection. Realizing the dragon was not hostile but rather affectionate, Zain finally calmed down. His heart, which had been pounding like a war drum, began to settle into a more regular rhythm. However, just as he was starting to feel at ease, another event occurred.

    "Thaaaak!" The sound of shattering wood and splintering door frame filled the room as someone broke through his room''s door. It was Izark, covered in a destructive aura that crackled like wild lightning around him, clearly sensing the dragon''s powerful presence. His eyes, sharp and searching, first looked for Zain to ensure he was alright. The dragon, however, jumped between them, seemingly trying to protect Zain from Izark.

    "Stop, Father!" Zain shouted, his voice tinged with urgency.

    Izark had veins popping out on his forehead, clearly very angry. "Where the hell did you find this small ass dragon?" he demanded, his tone a mix of incredulity and fury.

    Yes, he said ''small''. When someone thought about a dragon, it was at least a hundred times bigger than them if not a thousand. But this dragon was clearly a baby, though no less intimidating.

    "Dad, calm down." Zain implored, sensing the tension escalating.

    "CALM? That lizard is at the same Realm as me. It''s at Apex Realm. It could easily flatten this palace, including the hundreds of people in it. How do you expect me to calm down?" Izark''s voice was nearly a roar, the sheer intensity of his emotions causing the air to vibrate.

    Zain was shocked by this revelation. He knew how terrifying an Apex being could be. Forget about this palace¡ªeven the surrounding city wouldn''t survive an attack from an Apex. But then he noticed something as he looked at the dragon''s back with a smile. It was as if the dragon¡¯s overwhelming presence was tempered by a strange, almost innocent connection to him.

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    He walked up to the dragon and patted its shoulder. As he did, the dragon turned into a docile animal, curling around Zain and rubbing its head against his body. It was a magnificent sight, as if the dragon was acting like a child seeking comfort.

    Izark didn''t expect to see this scene. He calmed down a bit but still kept his guard up in case the dragon tried anything. He walked up to the dragon, which remained hostile toward him, a low growl rumbling from its throat.

    "So, where did you get him from?" Izark asked while still observing the dragon with wary eyes.

    "From the egg my mother left for me." Zain replied, his voice tinged with both pride and sadness.

    After making sure the man was not hostile towards him and Zain, the dragon left Zain''s side and curled up to sleep in a corner. Izark felt a little sad hearing Zain mention his mother. Memories of her surfaced, mingling with his sorrow.

    "Father!" Zain''s voice pulled him from his reverie.

    "Ah... Yes, your mother. She... she would always have crazy things with her. Haha... she never misses surprising me, even when she''s not here." Izark''s laugh was hollow, filled with a longing for the past.

    Zain could feel the sorrow in Izark''s words. It was a sorrow that resonated with his own feelings, a shared pain that seemed to bind them even closer.

    After talking some more about all the things Zain had gone through¡ªabout speaking to his mother, the technique he received, and the dragon¡ªZain finally asked a question that had been burning in his mind.

    "Father, can you tell me more about my mother?"

    "Yes..." Izark began, his voice softening. He recounted how he met her during an accident, her vibrant spirit and relentless energy, and many other things that painted a vivid picture of the woman she was.

    "So, you don''t know where she is?" Zain''s voice was tinged with hope and despair.

    "Yes, I know that her plane is much stronger than ours. And I think she would have broken through to Nova by now. I don''t know exactly, but she always said she was in a tricky situation."

    "She never liked to talk about her family, except her mother. She never gave me the coordinates of her plane. She said that you are the one who could find her." Izark''s words hung in the air, a heavy reminder of the responsibility that lay on Zain''s shoulders.

    Zain felt a deep sadness after hearing about his mother. He really wished she could be there with him, guiding him through these tumultuous times.

    "And yes, about that dragon. Take care of him. If he is an Abyssal dragon, he could easily take down a Nova. But to reach that stage, he would need a lot of energy resources. And as you know, they only feed on destructive and chaotic energy, which are difficult to find."

    "They are also very aggressive. There hasn''t been a single case where an Abyssal dragon was tamed. So, good luck with that. And now that you have a training technique, you can start training." Izark said this while looking at the dragon snoring peacefully in the corner, its form looking deceptively harmless in sleep.

    "Doesn''t it..." Zain began, but trailed off as he and Izark saw an unexpected sight. The black scales on the dragon were shrinking. The dragon''s whole body started shrinking. Its claws and teeth all became smaller. Finally, it turned into a small boy.

    He had long black hair and an almond skin tone. His face had beautiful features, delicate and ethereal. He slowly opened his eyes, which were a striking red, and looked around curiously. He got up, still naked, and looked at Zain, running into his arms and hugging him tightly.

    He looked up into Zain''s eyes with puppy eyes. A loud growl came from his stomach, breaking the silence with a rumble.

    Zain couldn''t help but laugh. "So, you''re hungry. I will call you... Draig. Let''s go find you something to eat."

    Izark didn''t want to intervene anymore. He knew the dragon wouldn''t do anything, at least for now. But still, he warned Zain to be careful. Zain also knew how terrifying an Apex Realm being could be, which is why he was trying to calm Draig.

    "I will have someone send food for him." Izark said before leaving the room, his voice carrying a hint of lingering concern.

    "Make sure it''s a lot. After all, he is a dragon." Zain reminded him, a smile playing on his lips as he looked at Draig, who now seemed more like an innocent child than a fearsome beast.

 Chapter-15 Path of the Cultivation

    Four weeks after the dragon incident, there was still no one other than Zain and Izark who knew about the existence of Draig. All anyone else knew was that the food intake of their young master had inexplicably gone up fifty times, causing quite a stir among the palace staff who had to scramble to meet the sudden increase in demand.

    The palace was bustling with activities, each corner filled with the sounds of preparations and anticipation. Servants scurried about with trays of delicacies, decorators hung vibrant banners, and musicians rehearsed tirelessly. Everyone was busy with their work, excited about the young master''s coming-of-age ceremony. It was the event of the year, and all were preparing for the big event with a palpable sense of excitement and urgency.

    In Izark''s room, he was, as usual, sitting at his massive oak desk, its surface cluttered with maps, scrolls, and official documents. The sunlight streaming through the tall windows cast a golden glow on the room, highlighting the rich tapestries that adorned the walls. Two of his eleven followers, Raiser and Raina, were standing in front of him, their postures rigid and attentive. Morris, his trusted advisor, was by his side, a reassuring presence in the room.

    "My lord." Raiser began, his voice steady yet tinged with concern, "I don''t think you have missed the presence of an unknown Apex Realm expert in the palace. I don''t want to know anything about him; just tell me whether he is a friend or a foe."

    Izark leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly. "Don''t worry about it, Raiser. He is not a foe. But I can''t let you guys meet him for now. It''s not safe."

    Raiser nodded, accepting the answer without further question. "No, I understand. You don''t have to explain, my lord."

    Raina, ever observant, sensed the tension in the room and chose to remain silent, knowing that prying further would be futile. They knew that if Izark wasn''t willing to divulge more information, there was no use in pressing him. Izark turned his attention to Morris, seeking updates on the current state of the Dukedom.

    "My lord, all is going well." Morris reported, his voice calm and confident. "We met with some financial problems, but they were resolved thanks to the young master''s gift."

    Izark raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What gifts? He had also said something similar before."

    Morris smiled, appreciating the chance to explain. "My lord, you know that we produce seventy percent of the food in the northeastern territory of the Zinovia empire. So, there are many nobles and territories that depend on our Dukedom for their sustenance."

    Izark nodded, urging him to continue. "After they came to know about the new law we implemented, they sent many diplomats to us for negotiations to buy our food. They know that if we won¡¯t provide them with supplies, the prices in their territories will skyrocket. That could deal a huge blow to them, potentially even inciting rebellion due to food shortages."

    "The diplomats are currently staying in the city, eager to negotiate the price they will be paying for food and grains. They came bearing many gifts, hoping to curry favor. Even the surrounding nobles who previously had strained relations with us have proposed alliances."

    "Congratulations, Duke Izark. You now hold absolute power in the northeastern empire. Even Duke Ronald has sent a diplomat." Morris concluded with a note of triumph in his voice.

    In the northeastern region of the Zinovia empire, there were only three Dukes: Izark, Martin, and Ronald. Their relationships were neither particularly friendly nor hostile; they were primarily transactional. Both Martin''s and Ronald''s Dukedoms depended heavily on Gremory Dukedom for food and supplies, which gave Izark significant leverage.

    "Tell me more." Izark prompted, leaning forward, his interest fully captured.

    Morris began to delve into the full details, outlining the diplomatic efforts, the negotiations, and the various strategic advantages they now held. The conversation was intricate and layered, touching upon the delicate balance of power, the economic implications, and the potential future alliances.

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    ___________________________

    Meanwhile, in Zain''s room, he was immersed in his meditative state, sitting cross-legged on the ground. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a few flickering candles placed around him, casting dancing shadows on the walls. In the vast ocean of his consciousness, he was surrounded by endless, roiling clouds of destructive and chaotic energy. They swirled and churned around his small soul, a tempest of raw power waiting to be harnessed.

    The training technique provided by his mother described in intricate detail how to use astral energy to condense the destruction and chaos energy into a purer form. After that, he needed to merge these energies with his soul. It was a very sensitive process; a single misstep could result in severe backlash, potentially fatal.

    He had to focus on the subtle astral ripples occurring in his sea of consciousness, guiding astral energy to his soul and letting it disperse. This energy would collide with the destruction and chaos energy, causing them to condense. The process required immense concentration, as the energies needed to be purified continuously.

    This process was incredibly challenging. Absolute focus was required to manipulate the astral rays, and guiding them to his soul and the energies was even more demanding. Zain could only attempt this once per day; afterward, his mental and physical stamina would be utterly depleted, necessitating a day''s rest to recover.

    Suddenly, the quiet Zain began to tremble, his body shivering uncontrollably. Sweat beads formed on his forehead, trickling down his face. His muscles tensed, and his breathing grew ragged. Finally, with a deep, shuddering breath, he opened his eyes.

    "I finally managed to get one astral ray to my soul form." he whispered to himself, a mix of relief and triumph in his voice.

    In his mind''s eye, he saw the energy clouds around his soul forming a globe: an inner layer of destruction energy and an outer layer of chaos energy. But the distance between these layers and his soul was vast. He had to meditate more to close the gap, to transform these nebulous forms of energy into a solid, impenetrable wall.

    He had finally broken into Acolyte Realm Grade 1, a significant milestone on his path to power. His understanding of the training process had deepened after this first successful attempt. His destruction energy was his inner force, and the chaos energy formed his Mana Forge.

    This dual cultivation was rare and exceptional. If he continued to progress at this rate, he would be able to cultivate both inner force and magic, a feat almost impossible for most people. He had to focus and compress these energies further, making them more powerful and controllable.

    The entire process had four stages: Disperse stage, Compression stage, Builder stage, and lastly, the Mergence stage. The first stage, his current one, involved condensing the dispersed energy. Once he achieved this, he would reach the Mythic Realm. The second stage involved compressing the energy into a thick layer, moving him to the Builder stage.

    In the third stage, he would attain the Apex Realm, where the energy layer would form a structure around his soul, engraved with powerful runes. In its final state, this structure would fully merge with his soul, elevating him to the Realm of a Nova. This was his cultivation path, a journey fraught with peril and potential.

    Zain now had a clear understanding of his future. He once again thanked his mother silently for this invaluable gift. Rising from the floor, he realized he was drenched in sweat, his clothes sticking to his skin. His body was exhausted, his stomach growling with hunger.

    He looked over at Draig, who appeared to be a seemingly fifteen-year-old boy. The boy had almond skin and striking red eyes. If not for his normal ears, one could have mistaken him for a Dark Elven Prince. He had delicate features and muscles sculpted like they were carved by a knife, an image of ethereal beauty and strength. But nobody could guess that this innocent-looking boy was a GODDAMN DRAGON!!!

    "Zain, Draig needs food. Hungry! Hungry!" Draig said, his voice filled with an innocent, almost childlike plea.

    Zain couldn''t help but laugh at his manner of speaking. Draig had shown exponential growth in just four weeks, but only physically. His mental growth was also fast but not quite quick enough to keep up with his body. There was a disarming naivety to him, a reminder of his true, young age despite his powerful form.

    "Alright, Draig. Let''s get you something to eat." Zain said, smiling. He walked over to the door and called for a servant. Within minutes, a large tray of food was brought in, piled high with various meats, fruits, and bread. Draig''s eyes lit up, and he immediately began to devour the food with gusto, the room filled with the sounds of his enthusiastic eating.

    As Draig ate, Zain pondered the challenges that lay ahead. The coming-of-age ceremony was just the beginning. There were many more trials and tribulations to face, battles both seen and unseen. But with Draig by his side, he felt a renewed sense of confidence and readiness to take on anything.

    After Draig finished eating, Zain sat down with him, his expression serious. "Draig, we need to keep your existence a secret for now. It''s not safe for others to know about you."

    Draig nodded, understanding the gravity in Zain''s voice. "I understand, Zain. I will be careful."

    "Good. Now, let''s continue your training."

 Chapter-16 News of a Conflict

    A few days later, Zain was in his room, having just finished his rigorous training regimen. His body glistened with sweat, muscles taut from the exertion, and his mind sharp with the focus required for his demanding exercises. The room, filled with the scent of perspiration and the earthy aroma of incense, was a sanctuary where he honed his skills and meditated on his plans.

    "What do you want to eat today?" Zain asked, peeling off his drenched clothes and slipping into a loose, comfortable robe that felt like a cloud against his skin.

    Draig, lounging nearby and absentmindedly toying with a book, looked up. His youthful face brightened as he did some quick calculations in his head. "Wild boar, 20... no, wait, make it 50 servings." he declared with a gleam in his eye.

    Even though Zain also consumed large quantities of food, Draig''s appetite was extraordinary, bordering on the mythical. It hadn''t been long since Morris had to set up a special kitchen solely dedicated to their needs. The amount they ate daily was enough to host a grand noble feast, and the kitchen staff worked tirelessly to keep up with their demands.

    "Okay, so what about your lessons?" Zain inquired, genuinely curious about his companion''s progress.

    "Oh, I''ve completed the whole planar history and the most used languages. I''m just left with domestic affairs and warcraft." Draig responded, his voice brimming with pride.

    "That''s good. I will add two cakes to your meal for today." Zain said, rewarding his diligence.

    "Really? Thank you! I promise Draig will work hard." Draig exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. The innocence in his voice was endearing, a stark contrast to his formidable physical presence.

    In the past month, Zain had been meticulously educating Draig, turning him into a scholar. Although Draig''s behavior was often childlike, it didn''t impede his learning capabilities. He absorbed knowledge like a sponge, his eagerness and aptitude surpassing Zain''s expectations. Zain knew that while Draig possessed immense power, he lacked the necessary knowledge to wield it effectively, and he was determined to fill that gap.

    Zain rang the bell beside his bed. Soon, a maid entered the room, her demeanor respectful yet efficient.

    "Prepare a bath. And also bring the regular food with 50 boar servings and 2 cakes. Make it fast." Zain commanded with the authoritative tone befitting his status.

    "Yes, young lord." the maid replied, bowing deeply before swiftly exiting the room to fulfill his orders.

    As she hurried away, she couldn''t help but wonder, ''How? How could a thirteen-year-old child eat this much? This is enough for my whole family for at least six months.'' Nevertheless, she carried out her duties without complaint, well aware of the peculiarities of her noble masters.

    ______________________________

    After a refreshing bath and a hearty meal with Draig, Zain provided him with further work to do. He guided Draig through some complex topics, helping him navigate the intricacies of advanced warcraft and domestic governance. Draig, ever the diligent student, soon became engrossed in his studies, his brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed the new information.

    ''Thump''

    The door to the room opened with a sudden bang, and a figure hurried inside.

    "Milord!" the figure exclaimed breathlessly.

    "Chris! Why do you barge into my room like that?" Zain asked, startled by the unexpected intrusion.

    It was Chris, his loyal aide. In the past months, Chris had been managing all the operations in Goldflow City and handling numerous other tasks Zain had entrusted to him. He had performed admirably, meeting every challenge with competence and dedication, leaving Zain with no grounds for complaint.

    "I am sorry, my lord. But your efforts have paid off. The gnomes have replied to us." Chris said, his excitement barely contained.

    Months ago, Zain had heard intriguing news from an old traveler while touring Vermilion City. At the border of Gremory Dukedom, there was a kingdom of dwarves locked in a bitter war with the gnomes of the same region. This conflict took place in the outskirts of a mountain range, between Gremory Dukedom and the Holy-Moon Alliance. Both factions had little contact with the outside world, their isolation breeding both strength and vulnerability.

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    The war stemmed from a severe scarcity of food and supplies in the mountains. Although the gnomes had the upper hand in the conflict, their food supplies were running dangerously low. If the war dragged on much longer, their army would face starvation and be forced to retreat back into the deeper mountains. The dwarves, on the other hand, needed only to hold their ground for a little longer to turn the tide.

    Zain had seen an opportunity in this desperate situation. He had instructed Chris to find a way to reach out to the gnomes, proposing to sell them food and supplies in exchange for their renowned magic equipment. Gnome-made items¡ªmagic lamps, labor machines, building tools¡ªwere highly valued for their quality and utility, and Zain knew they could significantly aid the development of his Dukedom.

    But Zain''s plan had a second, more intricate part. By helping the gnomes achieve victory, he would gain their gratitude and secure their valuable equipment. Then, he would turn to the dwarves, offering to help suppress the gnome army, thereby earning the dwarves'' friendship and forging a deal for their legendary weapons. Dwarven-forged arms were considered the finest, and having access to both gnomish equipment and dwarven weapons would provide a substantial advantage.

    This plan was a masterstroke, promising a win-win outcome¡ªboth wins benefiting Zain. Gremory Dukedom''s primary strength lay in its fertile farmlands, producing vast quantities of food. However, they lacked significant ore mines and skilled weapon craftsmen, forcing them to rely on imports from other dukedoms. These imports came at a steep price, making military supplies one of the largest expenditures for the Dukedom.

    If Zain''s plan succeeded, Gremory Dukedom would secure a steady supply of superior weapons and equipment. This would not only reduce their dependency on Duke Ronald and Duke Martin but also grant them a significant upper hand in the northeastern empire.

    "Chris, let my father know that I am coming to meet him." Zain instructed, his mind already racing with the implications of this new development.

    _________________________

    In another part of the palace, Duke Izark was immersed in a detailed discussion with Morris. They sat in the grand study, its walls lined with bookshelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls. A large map of the Zinovia empire spread across the table before them, marked with various notes and strategic points.

    "So, that concludes all the reports about the new rates of food products that we will provide to other lords. Milord, do you want any changes?" Morris asked, his tone professional and precise.

    "No, it''s fine." Duke Izark replied, his mind weighing the information. Morris had just finished describing the negotiations with diplomats from different lords regarding the prices of food grains. The new rates were designed to maximize their profits while maintaining strong alliances.

    The door of the study opened, and a maid walked in, her steps light and deferential.

    "Milord, young master Zain will be arriving to pay you a visit with his attendant Chris." she announced, bowing slightly.

    "Let him come." Izark said, his curiosity piqued.

    The maid bowed again and left the room. Izark turned to Morris, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Morris, what do you think he is here for now?"

    "I don''t know, Milord." Morris replied, though his tone suggested he was intrigued as well.

    Raiser and Raina, standing nearby, shared a glance. They too were curious about what the young master, who had given them surprise after surprise, had in store now.

    Soon, Zain entered the room with Chris and a shy Draig in tow. Draig, though usually confident and boisterous, seemed subdued in the presence of the Duke and his senior advisors.

    Raiser and Raina instinctively tensed, ready for any sign of threat. This defensive posture triggered Draig to release a violent Abyssal aura, an automatic response that signaled the start of a battle. The air grew heavy with tension, the aura crackling with latent power.

    "Everyone CALM DOWN!" Zain yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere.

    Raiser and Raina immediately retreated, their postures relaxing. Draig, sensing the situation, withdrew his aura and returned to a calm state.

    "Duke Izark, is this the new one?" Raiser asked, looking at the Duke with a questioning gaze. Raina''s eyes shifted to Zain, seeking an explanation.

    "Yes, he is. His name is Draig. He is... as you can say, my guardian... uh, yes, a guardian sent by my mom. Draig, where are your manners? Say hello." Zain instructed, though Draig appeared reluctant.

    "But Zain, you said if you don''t like someone, you can blow them into millions and millions of pieces, especially that old bastard who destroyed the door that day." Draig said innocently, his voice devoid of malice yet echoing with dangerous sincerity.

    Everyone in the room stared at Zain in stunned disbelief. Of course, this was what he had been teaching a dragon capable of leveling cities. There was enormous pressure on Zain to manage this volatile power. He coughed awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation.

    "Cough, cough... Sorry about that. Father, I wasn''t talking seriously. It was just a joke, okay? Just a joke. I didn''t think he would take it seriously."

    "Oh... Zain, so what you said about Duke being a killing-obsessed old coot is a joke too? When you were saying to stay away from that kind of person?" Draig added, unwittingly fanning the flames.

    Izark''s face turned crimson with anger. The room, already tense, seemed to vibrate with suppressed laughter as everyone struggled to maintain their composure.

    "ZAIN!!!!" Izark roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

    Zain turned his attention back to others, who was struggling to keep a straight face.

 Chapter-17 Military Supplies

    "ZAIN!!!!" Izark roared, his voice reverberating through the grand hall, shaking the very foundation of the ancient stone walls.

    Zain quickly stepped forward, raising his hands in a gesture of placation. "Father, please. Draig is still learning. He doesn''t fully understand social nuances yet." he explained, his voice steady but with an undertone of urgency.

    Izark''s anger simmered down slightly, his eyes still flashing with intensity. His expression remained stern, the lines on his face deepening. "You need to be more responsible, Zain. Teaching such things to him can cause problems." he warned, his tone laced with a mix of frustration and concern.

    Zain nodded earnestly. "I understand, Father. I''ll be more careful with my words from now on. Draig, you should also be careful."

    The atmosphere in the room was charged with tension. The air felt heavy, almost suffocating, as if the very walls were holding their breath. Zain took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking again. "Father, I know you are mad. But I have very good news that will make you the most powerful Duke in the northeastern Zinovia empire." he said, his voice calm but filled with conviction.

    Izark''s eyes narrowed, a flicker of interest breaking through his stern facade. "Better give me a good reason why I shouldn''t beat you right now." he replied, his voice cold and menacing.

    Zain felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, but he stood his ground. "You know there is a dwarven kingdom called Bourbon at the border of our territory." he began, choosing his words carefully.

    Izark''s brows furrowed in thought. "Yes, King Durin rules there. He''s as stubborn as a rock, always in conflict with the gnomes. He''s a minor character in a remote mountain. What about him?" he asked, his tone skeptical.

    Zain continued, his voice gaining confidence. "Exactly. I have an idea to recruit him and his kingdom to produce weapons for us."

    "Do they even produce good weapons?" Izark asked, casting a skeptical glance at Draig and Raiser, who exchanged dubious looks.

    "I found out through a lucky encounter with an old traveler. He said that while the dwarves are weak, their craftsmanship rivals the great blacksmiths of the capital cities." Zain explained, his eyes shining with determination.

    Izark considered this for a moment. "Fine, but remember, the dwarves have signed a peace agreement with humans. We can''t attack or force them. You can''t achieve much without powerful backing." he said, his tone dismissive.

    Zain felt a surge of frustration at his father''s constant dismissal. "I have a plan, but I need to go to Bourbon to make it happen. And..." he trailed off, anticipation building in the room.

    "Absolutely not!" Everyone except Draig and Chris shouted, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of objections. Zain''s heart sank, but he was not ready to give up.

    "Why not? Please." he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation.

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    Raina responded seriously, her voice firm. "You are too important to us right now. We can''t let you go to a foreign territory. It won''t be safe. Your father has many enemies who wouldn''t hesitate to kill you. Many of our operations depend on your plans."

    Before Zain could argue further, Morris added, "Young master, your coming-of-age ceremony is approaching. We can''t have you wandering around foreign regions at such a critical time."

    Izark and Raiser nodded in agreement, their expressions resolute. Zain felt a wave of disappointment wash over him, but he steeled himself, determined not to let it show. With a smirk, he said, "Okay, since I can''t go to the Bourbon Kingdom, I should drop the idea of securing a stable supply of the best military equipment for our Dukedom."

    His words hung in the air, laden with implication. Everyone knew Zain''s proposal could greatly benefit the Dukedom. The Gremory family relied on buying weapons from other Dukes, often at unfavorable terms. Failure to acquire proper weapons could spell disaster for their army and weaken their position in the empire and the Royal court.

    Izark, now considering Zain''s proposal seriously, asked, "What do you mean?"

    Zain explained, his voice steady and persuasive. "I plan to use the gnomes'' power to pressure the dwarves into taking our aid. Even if King Durin is stubborn, he values his subjects'' lives more than his pride."

    Izark''s expression turned thoughtful, though his lips twisted in a slight sneer. "So, you would use such a dirty trick." he said with a hint of disgust. Zain thought, ''This man kills without blinking an eye, and I''m the dirty one? He''s too much.''

    "Father, you should care more about the result than the method. I''ll ensure minimal bloodshed." Zain assured, his voice firm with resolve.

    Izark''s gaze softened slightly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and concern. "That''s fine, but can''t someone else go instead?" he asked, his tone softer but still firm.

    "Well, then that person should also handle all the planning. I''d be delighted to have a vacation." Zain replied, a slight smile playing on his lips.

    Izark knew Zain wouldn''t back down. He also wanted his son to experience the outside world before his coming-of-age ceremony, as Zain had never left Vermilion City. ''He''s as stubborn as his mother.'' Izark thought, a flicker of nostalgia crossing his face.

    Although the others weren''t happy about Zain''s decision, they couldn''t deny his importance. The Gremory family had large territories, fertile land, and fighting power, but they hadn''t fully utilized their potential. Izark was a great fighter and general but not as skilled at managing the Dukedom. Zain had brought significant improvements and gains, making him invaluable.

    "Fine, you can go, but if there''s any danger, Raina will escort you back." Izark insisted, his voice brooking no argument.

    "Agreed." Zain replied promptly. "I need 100 tonnes of rations, a squad of fifty strong men, and, of course, if Miss Raina accompanies me, I''ll likely return unharmed."

    Raina responded, her voice steady and reassuring. "It would be my pleasure."

    "Thanks. We will leave tomorrow morning. I have only three months before returning for the celebration, so I should hurry." Zain said, his voice brimming with determination.

    After discussing his journey to the dwarven kingdom, Zain left the room with Draig. "He''s such a stubborn child." Izark exclaimed, shaking his head.

    Izark repeatedly warned Raina to ensure Zain''s safe return. She assured him that nothing would happen to his son. After finalizing all arrangements, the journey began the next morning.

    As Zain walked back to his room with Draig, the corridors of the castle seemed to close in around him, the flickering torches casting long, dancing shadows on the stone walls. He couldn''t help but chuckle, breaking the heavy silence. "Draig, you really need to learn when to keep things to yourself." he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

    Draig looked up at him, confusion clouding his eyes. "Okay, Zain. I will try." he replied earnestly.

    Zain ruffled Draig''s hair affectionately, smiling down at the boy. "That''s all I ask. Now, let''s get back to our training. We have a lot of work ahead." he said, his voice filled with a renewed sense of purpose.

 Chapter-18 Journey to the Dwarven Kingdom

    A cool breeze was blowing, carrying the fragrant scent of blooming flowers that heralded the arrival of spring. The week since Zain and his group had left Vermillion City had been a journey through ever-changing landscapes and climates. They were now at the border of the Gremory Dukedom. Beyond these borders lay the formidable mountain range that marked the beginning of the Holy Moon Alliance.

    The mountain range was home not only to the dwarven kingdom but also to various other creatures dwelling in the deep recesses beneath the mountains. This, indeed, was Zain''s destination. With the dawn breaking over the jagged peaks, they began their arduous ascent into the mountain range, the path ahead both challenging and perilous.

    Zain traveled with a grand caravan of one hundred and fifty large carriages, each laden with food, supplies, and a squad of elite soldiers. The opulence of his own carriage stood in stark contrast to the rugged terrain, its interior adorned with plush seating and ornate furnishings. Zain rode alongside Draig and Raina, the two providing a steadying presence.

    "We have reached the border of the Bourbon kingdom. According to the map, we should soon arrive at their outer outpost." Raina said, her eyes scanning the detailed map spread out before her. Zain and Draig, sitting opposite her, leaned in to scrutinize the intricate details, the flickering lamplight casting shadows on their faces. After traveling a bit longer, they finally reached the imposing entrance of the Bourbon kingdom, marked by a massive black iron gate embedded into the mountain itself.

    A contingent of dwarves guarded the entrance. Though only a meter tall, each was a formidable force, their stature belying their strength as they all stood in the Saint Realm. For a small kingdom like Bourbon, this was considerable. However, compared to Izark''s vast Dukedom, which was at least fifty times larger, their power seemed modest. Even the squad of fifty soldiers accompanying Zain were formidable, boasting forty Sage Realm experts and ten Mythic Realm warriors, not to mention Raina, who was in the Apex Realm.

    The group underwent a thorough inspection before being allowed inside the mountain. The dwarven guards, upon seeing the vast supplies the caravan carried, treated them with respect and a hint of curiosity. One of the guards swiftly went to notify the king. This was Zain''s first time seeing a dwarven kingdom, and he was utterly mesmerized by the sight before him. The city carved inside the mountain was a marvel of engineering and artistry, illuminated by countless magical lights that bathed the stone in a warm, ethereal glow. The sky was replaced by the towering mountain ceiling, and every house and shop was intricately carved out of rock, exuding both strength and elegance.

    Despite the impressive architecture, the residents'' plight was all too evident. The faces of the dwarves bore marks of exhaustion and depression, the toll of the ongoing war with the gnomes. Casualties were a grim daily occurrence, and their food supplies were constantly dwindling, adding to their woes.

    Noticing Zain''s group arriving with food supplies, the dwarves quickly gathered around them, their eyes wide with a mix of hope and desperation. Sensing an opportunity to earn goodwill, Zain ordered the distribution of supplies to the crowd. The dwarves were deeply touched by this gesture; some even wept openly, their gratitude palpable as they thanked Zain repeatedly.

    The situation was far worse than Zain had imagined. The food shortage was severe, and without his intervention, many of these dwarves would likely have faced starvation. His arrival was nothing short of a miracle for many of them.

    Shortly after Zain began distributing food, the King of Bourbon, Durin, arrived with his private guards. Every dwarf in the street kneeled in respect. King Durin, slightly taller than the average dwarf and exuding a majestic presence, approached Zain. He wore black armor that was dented and scarred from countless battles, a testament to his active participation in the war. His guards were similarly attired, their armor equally battle-worn.

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    King Durin observed Zain for a moment, his eyes sharp and assessing, before inquiring about his identity. "I am Zain Gremory, son of Duke Izark Gremory." Zain formally greeted him, his voice steady and respectful.

    "I am King Durin Welmoth the Seventh. It''s a pleasure meeting you. I don''t know why you came here, but I am truly thankful for your help. However, I also know that nothing comes free, especially from you humans." the King said, his tone wary but polite.

    "I understand it would be against your honor to accept something you didn''t earn. I respect your majesty''s morals." Zain replied, his words carefully chosen.

    "You have a good command of your words, young man. I didn''t expect it from someone your age. Go on then, tell me the real reason you came here." King Durin said, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

    "Thank you for the compliment, King Durin. I believe it was wise for me to come here. Let''s not waste time. I will tell you what my father, Duke Izark, sent me here for. His intention is to seek your friendship." Zain said, causing the King''s expression to change to one of surprise and cautious interest.

    "Care to elaborate on what you mean, young Duke?" the King asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

    "I am not an heir to the Duke yet. Please, just call me Zain." Zain objected, a small smile playing on his lips.

    "Very well, Zain. Tell me why your father sent you here." the King prompted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he waited.

    "It has come to our attention that your majesty''s kingdom is currently facing a difficult situation." Zain said, his tone serious.

    The King glanced at his guards'' battered armor before responding, "Yes, Zain. We are at war with the gnomes, but it''s nothing to worry about. Their assaults usually end by the end of winter, after which they retreat to the inner mountains."

    "But King Durin, isn''t the situation supposed to have calmed down by now? The gnomes are still continuing their assault with full force, aren''t they?" Zain asked, his voice tinged with concern.

    King Durin''s expression grew tense. He had suspected something unusual about this war. The gnomes had never been this desperate in previous conflicts. They were sacrificing two or three of their own just to kill one of the dwarves, sometimes even resorting to suicidal attacks. Although the dwarves'' losses were fewer than the gnomes'', the prolonged conflict threatened to shatter their foundations, even if they emerged victorious.

    "What are you implying?" the King asked, his voice low and troubled.

    "I want to have a conversation with the gnomes and try to stop the war." Zain said, surprising King Durin.

    "And I suppose you want something in return, right?" the King asked, his tone turning wary again.

    "As you''ve seen, our land produces surplus food, and we want to trade it for your weapons. We''ve already brought tons of rations." Zain explained, his tone diplomatic.

    "So you want our weapons." the King stated, his eyes narrowing slightly.

    "Let me correct you, King Durin. Look at the state of your people. I think it''s you who desperately needs our food resources more than we need your weapons." Zain said, his voice gentle but firm.

    King Durin looked at his people: tattered clothes, empty stomachs, and sorrow-filled eyes. They resembled beggars more than citizens. Durin was reluctant to produce weapons for the Duke, but he couldn''t let his people starve. Ultimately, he agreed to Zain''s request, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he made the decision.

    The dwarven kingdom, once a bastion of strength and resilience, now lay vulnerable and weary. Zain''s proposal, though opportunistic, was a lifeline they desperately needed. As the king''s agreement settled over them, a sense of cautious hope began to take root among the dwarves, a glimmer of light in their otherwise dark circumstances.

    As Zain and his group settled in for the night, the flickering lights of the city casting long shadows on the walls, he couldn''t help but reflect on the gravity of the situation. The journey ahead was fraught with challenges, but he was determined to see it through. For the sake of his people and the dwarves, he would ensure that his mission succeeded.

    The night was quiet, the usual sounds of bustling life replaced by the soft murmur of conversation and the occasional clink of armor. Zain lay awake, his mind racing with plans and contingencies.

 Chapter-19 Gnome Stronghold

    Zain was currently residing in King Durin''s castle, a grand structure hewn from the living rock of the mountain. Earlier, he had an important and revealing meeting with the king about the escalating situation with the gnomes. Now, alone in his room, he mulled over the details, aware that they had to depart early the next morning to negotiate with the gnomes.

    Lying on his bed, Zain was deep in thought, the soft flicker of candlelight casting shadows on the stone walls. His mind raced with the complexities of the unfolding conflict.

    "Why are you still up, kid?" a familiar voice broke the silence.

    Raina entered the room silently, her presence both comforting and formidable. She had earlier taken Draig to bed, ensuring he adhered to the strict instructions given by the dwarves to limit his food intake. Draig''s voracious appetite could consume a month''s worth of their precious supplies in just a day, a burden they could ill afford.

    After securing Draig''s compliance and settling him into bed, Raina came to check on Zain, her concern for his well-being evident.

    "Raina, I was thinking about what Durin told us regarding the war with the gnomes. According to him, the gnomes are conducting a suicidal campaign against them. But something doesn¡¯t seem right." Zain confided, his brow furrowing with worry.

    "My plan was to provide the gnomes enough resources so they could sustain their assault longer, causing the dwarves some more trouble and forcing them to seek our help. But from the looks of it, something is pressuring the gnomes to resort to these desperate measures. This puts our entire plan at risk. Both gnomes and dwarves might end up annihilating each other. There¡¯s something deeper going on in these mountains that we¡¯re not aware of. I have this nagging feeling that something terrible is about to happen."

    "You don''t have to worry, Zain." Raina reassured him, her voice steady and soothing. "I will protect you and Draig. I will ensure you return safely to Vermillion City."

    "Thank you, Raina. Your words do put me at ease." Zain replied, offering a small, grateful smile.

    After their conversation, Raina left the room, leaving Zain to his thoughts once more. He lay back on the bed, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders, but he took solace in Raina¡¯s unwavering loyalty and strength.

    ---

    The next day, Zain and his group delved deeper into the mountains, their path taking them through vast, echoing caves that stretched from the dwarven border toward the gnomes'' stronghold. The journey was a somber one, the silence of the caves broken only by the faint, steady sound of their footsteps and the soft glow of their magic lamps casting eerie shadows on the damp walls.

    The war was at a standstill, with both armies regrouping and reorganizing within their respective strongholds, preparing for the next inevitable clash. As Zain''s group progressed, they encountered the grim aftermath of previous battles, the bodies of fallen dwarves and gnomes lying scattered, a stark reminder of the war¡¯s brutal toll.

    After a day of arduous travel, they finally reached their destination, the gnomes'' stronghold. It was an imposing castle nestled within a colossal dome-like hollow space in the mountain, surrounded by barracks and shops, the air thick with tension and the faint clang of metal on metal.

    As they approached the entrance of the stronghold, the gnomes reacted quickly, a squadron riding out on pony-like mechanical mounts to intercept them. The general of the gnome army, riding at the front, approached with a stern expression.

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    "Esteemed guests, I am the general of the gnome army. Welcome to the gnomes'' stronghold. I don''t know what has brought you here, but we are in a time of war. Please state the purpose of your visit." he said, his tone both formal and wary.

    Raina stepped forward, her demeanor calm and authoritative. "I am Raina, a knight under Duke Izark Gremory, currently accompanying young master Zain Gremory. We request an audience with your king."

    Upon learning their identity, the gnomes'' initial suspicion gave way to a more respectful demeanor. They soon escorted Zain and his group to the castle within the stronghold, the atmosphere tense but hopeful.

    ---

    In the austere main hall of the gnomes'' castle, Zain stood before King Morgz Hanbell, with Raina and Draig flanking him. The rest of his group waited outside, their presence a silent testament to the gravity of the situation. The hall, unlike the grandiose ones of Vermillion City, was simple and functional, with marble floors and minimal decorations.

    "You are in the presence of King Morgz Hanbell of the Gnome tribes." announced the gnome standing beside the king''s throne, his voice echoing in the sparse chamber.

    King Morgz, distinguished by his red cape and a rusty, lamp-like black crown, bore a solemn expression as he regarded Zain and his companions. "So, travelers from the plains. It''s been a long time since we had an audience with your kind. But I¡¯m afraid you arrived at a bad time. We gnome tribes are at war with the dwarves of Bourbon. I am quite curious about your visit to our lands."

    The gnome king''s keen eyes and respectful tone indicated he understood the significance of their visit. Zain met his gaze, his voice firm as he spoke.

    "I won''t beat around the bush, King Morgz. I know you have enough supplies for your people to survive the winter. So, tell me why you are still determined to raid the dwarves when winter is just coming to an end."

    This question was the crux of Zain''s concern. He had intended to support the gnomes with food to pressure the dwarves, making the proud King Durin more inclined to accept his help. However, the gnomes'' relentless aggression, despite having adequate resources, suggested a more dire underlying issue.

    King Morgz''s face turned grim. Rising from his throne, he approached Zain, his movements slow and deliberate. Raina tensed, ready to defend Zain if necessary, but instead, the king knelt before him, tears welling in his eyes.

    "Lord, I beg you! Please save us." King Morgz pleaded, his voice breaking.

    This was an unexpected turn. Zain signaled to Raina, who released her powerful aura, her voice commanding as she spoke, "Get up! Explain the whole story clearly without leaving anything out. Why are you crying? What are you scared of?"

    Frightened by the terrifying pressure from Raina, the Gnome King quickly stood, wiping his tears with his sleeves. He began to explain the dire situation that had befallen his people.

    The trouble began a month ago, just before Zain had sent a letter offering aid to the gnomes. It was autumn, and preparations for the seasonal skirmishes with the dwarves were underway. The gnome tribes, residing deeper within the mountains, were going about their daily lives, unaware of the looming catastrophe.

    On that fateful day, the tranquility of the gnome settlements was shattered when children playing in the outskirts of the tribes returned home in a state of terror. Their faces were pale, and their eyes wide with fear. Parents, alarmed by their children''s distress, pressed them for answers, struggling to comprehend the horror they described.

    The children had been playing in a small, interconnected cave system¡ªa favorite spot due to its safety and the soft, luminescent pigment that lit the walls. But that day, the familiar caves had transformed into a nightmare.

    King Morgz''s voice trembled as he recounted these events, the weight of his responsibility evident. "We thought we could handle it, that it was just our minds playing tricks on us. But the more we ignored it, the worse it got. These¡­ things¡­ whatever they are, they are driving us to desperation. We attack the dwarves not out of greed or strategy, but because we have no choice. We need to keep our people busy, to distract them from the terror lurking in the shadows of our home."

    The room fell silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Zain''s plan had never accounted for such a scenario. He realized that the conflict between the gnomes and dwarves was merely a surface issue, masking a deeper, more sinister threat.

 Chapter-20 Disaster For Gnomes

    In the vast, labyrinthine cave system that stretched deep into the earth, a group of gnome children were playing their favorite game: hide and seek. The echoes of their laughter and playful taunts reverberated off the cold, damp walls, creating an atmosphere of innocent joy.

    "Rishi, it''s your turn to seek." one of the children called out, their voice bouncing eerily through the tunnels.

    "Okay, but next time, you will have to seek." Rishi replied with a grin, her excitement barely contained.

    Rishi had just turned nine this year, a milestone she had eagerly awaited. She had been exploring these ancient caves since she was three, and every corner, every crevice felt as familiar to her as her own reflection. This network of caverns was her playground, a place where her imagination could run wild, and where she felt a deep, unspoken connection to the earth itself.

    "One... Two... Fifty... One hundred..." she counted, her voice a blend of impatience and anticipation.

    As Rishi started seeking around the cave system, she moved with the confidence of someone who knew these caves intimately. The scent of damp earth and the occasional dripping of water from stalactites created a symphony that was both comforting and eerie. It wasn''t very difficult for her to find her friends, who were giggling and shuffling, their attempts to stay hidden betrayed by their own excitement.

    Half an hour later, she had found four of her friends, with only one remaining. The thrill of the hunt spurred her on, leading her deeper into the caves than they usually ventured. After searching through all the usual hiding spots, only one was left: the deepest cave, a place that was usually off-limits because of its ominous, foreboding atmosphere. But today, driven by the spirit of adventure, they all ventured inside to find the last boy, named Visk.

    As they reached the end of the cave, the air grew colder and the darkness seemed to thicken around them. They saw Visk standing in a small crack in the cave wall, his back turned to them.

    "Visk! Visk! You have been found." Rishi and her friends all yelled, their voices filled with the thrill of victory. But he didn¡¯t reply. He stood in the same position, unmoving, as if he hadn''t heard them.

    One of Rishi''s friends, Dai, felt a twinge of concern and ran up to Visk, his footsteps echoing loudly in the confined space. As he reached the crack in the cave wall, he stopped abruptly, sensing something was terribly wrong. Finally, Visk turned around and started running toward Dai with an unnerving speed.

    As Visk approached, Dai noticed something disturbingly off about his friend. Visk''s eyes had turned a sinister, glowing red, and a grim look had settled on his face. There was a palpable sense of danger emanating from him, something primal and terrifying. Dai turned around to run, but it was too late.

    Visk caught up to Dai, jumping on him with a feral intensity and pinning him to the ground. The sound of their struggle filled the cave, a horrifying contrast to the playful noises from earlier. Visk started hitting Dai in the head with a jagged stone, the impact sickening and final.

    "Aaaaa... Aaaggghh..." Dai screamed, his voice a desperate plea that echoed off the cave walls.

    Rishi and her friends watched the entire incident, frozen in fear, their minds struggling to comprehend the brutality unfolding before them. Suddenly, Dai''s screams stopped, and he ceased struggling. He had been beaten to death by Visk, his skull shattered, blood and brain matter splattering the cave floor.

    After killing Dai, Visk turned toward Rishi and her friends, his face and body covered with blood, his eyes devoid of any humanity.

    Screams resounded throughout the caves as chaos erupted. Similar changes happened to many kids, who began to attack others with a savage ferocity. It was a bloodbath, an orgy of violence and terror. Few kids managed to escape and reach the safety of their tribes. When the adults heard about the situation, they rushed to the cave system, their hearts filled with dread and desperation.

    What they witnessed was pure horror: dead bodies of children scattered around the caves, blood still gushing from their wounds. Some had open skulls, flesh bitten off their bodies, and tears still in their lifeless eyes. They had died gruesome, painful deaths, the cave floors slick with blood and despair.

    ---

    This was just the beginning of a nightmare for the gnomes. A disease started spreading in the tribes, a sickness that robbed people of their sanity and turned them into mindless killers. People began losing their minds and attacking others on sight, driven by an uncontrollable urge to destroy. They didn¡¯t care for their children or families; they were no longer themselves, as if demons had taken their place. These afflicted individuals had to be put to a final rest for the safety of others, a grim task that filled the gnomes with sorrow and fear.

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    As the fear among the gnomes grew, they started distancing themselves from friends and family, their once tight-knit community fracturing under the weight of paranoia and terror. Soon, they identified the source of the problem: only those who went near the cave system were getting infected by this strange disease. The caves, once a place of adventure and joy, had become a source of unrelenting horror.

    All the gnome tribes convened and decided to make the cave system and its surroundings a forbidden area, enforcing a strict no-entry policy. After this rule came into effect, the situation improved significantly. The illness stopped spreading, and the gnomes began to breathe a collective sigh of relief. However, their respite was short-lived. Just when they thought everything was returning to normal, people who lived near the forbidden area started catching the mental illness and turning into demons. These afflicted individuals began killing people by biting them and smashing their skulls with rocks, behaving like savage beasts. It was clear they were no longer the same people as before.

    Further research revealed that the illness, curse, or whatever it was, originated from the cave system and was gradually spreading toward their tribes. If they wanted to survive, they either had to solve this problem or move far away, abandoning their ancestral home.

    In the end, the gnomes decided to leave, as the illness had already claimed enough lives. This exodus was why they were attacking the dwarves so relentlessly. They had no choice; they had to act. If they didn¡¯t, it would mean the death of their entire kin. That¡¯s why they fought with such ferocity against the dwarves, seeking new land for their survival, a place free from the curse that haunted them.

    ---

    After the Gnome King explained the whole situation, he got on his knees and begged Zain for help. His eyes were filled with desperation, his voice quivering with the weight of his plea.

    "Why didn''t you ask another power for help?" Zain asked the Gnome King, his voice tinged with curiosity and concern.

    "Who would help us, young lord? We are surrounded by three human empires. They are already busy with their own problems. Do you think they care for people who are not even of the same race? Especially when they have nothing to gain from us." the Gnome King replied, his voice heavy with resignation.

    "And as for the Gnome Empire, they are so far away. It would take too long to contact them. Even if we managed to, they wouldn¡¯t bother helping a small group of tribes. They would just say we should relocate to the Gnome Empire. We have tried asking for their help before. The reply is always the same."

    The gnomes were truly in a difficult situation. They were being forced to leave their home, but they had no choice. If they stayed, they would succumb to that strange curse. Desperate, they put all their hopes on Zain, hoping he could get the Duke to save them from this crisis.

    Now, Zain was stuck in a dilemma. He didn¡¯t want to abandon the gnomes, who were an excellent resource for the development of the Dukedom. With their mechanical knowledge, they could help increase wine production and assist in many other sectors. The gnomes'' craftsmanship and ingenuity were unmatched, and Zain knew their skills could greatly benefit his people.

    But he couldn''t make this decision alone, so he called Raina for advice. Raina, a powerful mage with an acute sense for danger, created a magic dome around them to prevent anyone from eavesdropping.

    "So, Raina, what do you think we should do?" Zain asked, his voice tinged with worry.

    "Zain, I am not trying to scare you, but there is something in these mountains that gives me an eerie feeling. Whatever it is, it is trying to hide its presence. But for a split second, I felt it. It¡¯s not an opponent I can fight." Raina replied, her expression serious.

    "So, I suggest we leave this place right now. We need to talk to your father about this and decide what to do." she continued, her tone leaving no room for argument.

    Seeing Raina so worried, Zain decided they would leave and start moving the gnomes to their territory. Just as he was about to talk to the Gnome King, he noticed that Draig was missing. He looked around but saw no trace of him in the hall.

    "Raina, Draig is not here!" Zain shouted, his voice filled with sudden panic.

    The Gnome King answered first, his voice calm despite the situation. "Young lord, the boy who came with you just left the hall when you were talking with that madam."

    Zain and Raina ran outside, their hearts pounding with urgency. The guards they brought were standing outside, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. Before Zain could say anything, they interrupted, their voices tinged with alarm.

    "Young master, Draig! Draig! He turned into a dragon and flew toward the cave system. Half of the guards have gone after him." one of the guards reported, his face pale.

    Zain and Raina were shocked. They knew the cave system wasn''t safe. Draig was an Apex powerhouse; if he caught this strange curse and went on a rampage, it would not end well.

    "Zain, go back to the Dukedom with these guards. I will handle the situation here and bring Draig back." Raina prioritized Zain''s safety, her voice steady despite the urgency of the situation.

    "No, Raina, I am coming with you. Draig is my responsibility. My mother trusted me with him. I can''t let her down. And if he has gone mad, I might be the only one who can bring him back to sanity." Zain argued, his determination evident in his eyes.

    Seeing Zain so resolute, Raina relented, recognizing the depth of his commitment. "Very well, Zain. But stay close and follow my lead." she instructed, her tone firm.

    They ordered the remaining guards to return to the Dukedom and inform Izark of the unfolding crisis.