The Atlantian kingdom is dominated by three powerful families: the Volaris, Lanchester, and Henderson families. Renowned for their immense power, influence, and wealth, they stand at the pinnacle of the kingdom's nobility. The Lanchester family is particularly notable for its vast riches, surpassing even the other two prominent families. While other noble families exist, they pale in comparison to these three giants.
It all stemmed from John Lanchester the richest man in the kingdom, whose wealth eclipsed even the king's. Not only was he a titan of finance, but he was also one of the strongest individuals in the realm. Despite not being part of the Big Three, he wielded considerable power and influence. As the head of the Lanchester family, John took his responsibilities seriously, but his relentless pursuit of wealth had created a rift between him and his family.
"Is that all you have to say, Father?" Daniel said, his eyes blazing with anger.
John noticed Daniel's reaction and gestured to the maids to leave the dining room. John relaxed his elbows on the dining table, crossing his fingers as a calm expression settled on his face.
"I'm sorry I didn't send you a message when you entered the academy. I got busy," John said.
"As usual," Daniel muttered, releasing his clenched fist and shrugging his shoulders. "Why should I be bothered by what you do to both me and Mother? Do whatever you want, without ever thinking about your own family. It's what makes you happy, I guess."
Selene intervened, touching Daniel's arm, but he removed her hand from his shoulder, stood up, and headed outside to take a walk.
Selene wanted to follow, but John held her hand and shook his head, signaling her to let Daniel go.
"Let him go. When he calms down, I will talk to him. He is a kid after all," John said with a smile, his gaze drifting to Jane Henderson, who was silently watching the drama unfold between the two.
"I offer my condolences, Jane," John said, his tone measured. "It's fine, thank you," Jane replied, her response prompting John to gently tap her hand before reaching for a glass of wine.
"Kids won't understand until they're older," John chuckled, taking a sip of his red wine with a satisfied smile.
Jane's expression remained calm as she countered, "Wealth is essential for survival, but spending time with family is just as important, John. If you didn't want to spend time with your family, you wouldn't have created one."
John's smile faltered for a moment before he regained his composure and grinned brightly. "I'll work on that. For now, let's discuss the purpose of your visit." He glanced at Selene, who smiled in response.
Jane's eyes locked onto John's, her voice steady. "You're known for your ambition and drive for wealth, but I implore you, leave your brother's riches alone."
As the widow of Harry Henderson, John's brother, Jane was acutely aware that with no heir to the Henderson family, John would inherit the entire estate. Jane's visit was a plea to spare the family's legacy and property from being absorbed into the Lanchester empire.
Silence hung in the air as Selene and Jane waited for John's response. "Fine, I'll leave the inheritance to you, Jane. You've been through a lot," John said, his words prompting a grateful smile and a bow from Jane. Selene swiftly changed the subject, asking, "Have you found the girl that killed your son?" Jane's expression turned somber as she reached for a glass of wine and downed it in one gulp, eliciting a knowing smile from John.
"Not yet, but I will. I have to," Jane replied, her determination palpable. John inquired about the funeral, "When is it?" But before Jane could respond, Selene interjected, "It's already been taken care of, John."
John's eyes lit up as he gestured to the feast before them. "Well, let's eat then." As he raised his glass, a sinister thought crossed his mind: "That foolish Lyra... what did Bolt ever do to deserve such a swift death? I'll make sure to ask her about it when I return to our hideout."
"So, Selene, tell me what I missed?" John asked, his face breaking into a smile. "Daniel got a reward for his first Yaijuu hunt," Selene replied. "Isn't that wonderful?" John said, glancing at Jane, who smiled back. Selene continued, "He confronted a boy from the warrior class and lost." This caused a hint of confusion on John's face. "High rank?" he asked, but Selene shook her head. "No, low rank, just like him. But he's the second strongest in the class, while this boy is at the bottom." This explanation left both Jane and John perplexed. "What's the boy's name?" Jane asked, intrigued by Selene's story. "His name is Aiden... Aiden Heyes," Selene said, and a faint smile appeared on John's face, which Jane noticed.
John thought to himself, "So the boy is in the academy, wonderful. Not just him, the remaining three. Now the problem is how to capture the four of them, especially that old man."
"John, is something wrong?" Jane asked, sensing John's distraction. "No, nothing. I was just wondering how strong my son will become after taking that loss," John replied, cutting a piece of meat with his knife and taking a bite.
Daniel walked down the bustling street, the crowd's eyes following him wherever he went.
It was nothing unusual — he was, after all, the son of a renowned noble.
His mother's words about his father's "reasons" echoed in his mind, each one fueling his frustration. The anger built up until he lashed out, kicking a bowl of apples with startling force. The fruits scattered across the cobblestone, startling a few children — barely four years old — who had been reaching for them.
Realizing what he'd done, guilt tugged at his chest. He pulled out twenty yokiris from his pocket and handed them to the children. Their faces lit up instantly, smiles erasing the fear from moments ago.
"I need to control my temper next time," Daniel muttered under his breath.
He turned to leave, intent on heading home — but froze.
Coming toward him was the one person he least wanted to see.
The one who had humiliated him in front of his friends.
Aiden Heyes.
The two locked eyes, the air between them thick with unspoken tension