《Ascendant of the Myriad Planes [A Multi-planar and Cultivation Novel]》 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. "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. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "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. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. "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, 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." The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. 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. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. "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." The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. 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. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. 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. 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 withering autumn 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.'' This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. 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. 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." Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. "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." "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.