Meanwhile, in the study, Edgar stood with his back to the door, gazing out over the hazy city beneath the night sky through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Behind him came a soft knock. Someone entered quietly, giving a low-voiced report on everything that had happened at today's meeting.
How Livia had confronted Eryx without losing an inch of ground; how she had deftly maneuvered the division of territories, steering the conversation and gradually seizing control of the situation.
Edgar listened in silence, slowly turning toward the room as he moved to the desk, his fingertips tapping lightly on the tabletop, his expression unreadable.
When the subordinate left, the study fell back into silence.
The light illuminated his calm yet faintly distant features, and in the depths of his usually sharp eyes, there was a rare trace of softness.
"To think she could pull it off to this extent…" he murmured under his breath, a faint, nearly imperceptible smile curving his lips.
A wave of quiet satisfaction spread through his chest.
She truly had inherited her mother's blood—the courage to walk upright through any storm, the wisdom to see into people's hearts and master the situation.
And she had grown even faster, even sharper, than he had anticipated.
Yet even amid this satisfaction, someone as seasoned and calculating as Edgar would never naïvely believe that everything was under his control.
He sat down slowly, his long, powerful fingers lightly tapping the desk, a faint frown gathering between his brows as his gaze sharpened.
"But…" he muttered to himself, "this setup is too perfect—so perfect it's suspicious."
At first, he too had believed that Livia's intention in partitioning the territories was merely to weaken Eryx's influence and search for the Holy Grail.
But the more he examined it, the more he felt something was off.
That composure, the sharp edge hidden beneath her surface calm—Livia had anticipated this all along and had already laid down her backup plans. It became clear to Edgar that Livia, or rather Marcellus, had a different goal altogether: the territory assigned to Eryx. As expected of the seasoned lord and strategist, Edgar had seen through what Marcellus and Livia believed to be a flawless plan.
Edgar's gaze grew deeper, as if endless calculations were being woven within it.
"Marcellus's injury this time… has instead created an opportunity," he thought to himself. "The original balance has been shattered. Marcellus's long-hidden secrets will gradually surface, and that shadowy force lurking in the dark will begin to reveal itself."
At that moment, he lifted a hand and dialed an encrypted number.
The dial tone barely sounded before the call was answered, the voice on the other end low and respectful.
"My Lord."
Leaning back in his chair, Edgar's voice was low and commanding: "Increase surveillance in Eryx's sector. Pay special attention to anyone sent by Livia and Eryx."
His eyes narrowed slightly, and a thread of coldness crept into his tone. "If you spot them, follow closely. Do not alarm them."
There was a brief hesitation on the other end, followed by a cautious question: "Shall we inform Eryx?"
Edgar smiled faintly, but the smile held a trace of ruthless calculation.
"No need," he said calmly. "We're at the most critical juncture now. Success and failure hang by a thread."
"Whoever finds the 'Holy Grail' first—and manages to protect it—will be the true victor." His voice was deep and powerful, striking the silence of the night like hammer blows.
After ending the call, Edgar exhaled slowly.
He rose and returned to the window, gazing out over the distant, twinkling lights of the city, his eyes as sharp as a hawk's.
Yet within him stirred a complexity he had never quite felt before.
Both anticipation—and a quiet, gnawing worry.
Anticipation that his daughter would rise above the chaos and truly grow into someone capable of standing alone.
But also worry—this game was too dangerous. One wrong move, and it would all come crashing down beyond repair.
And most of all, the lingering question: could he, in the end, be the one to seize victory—and claim the Holy Grail?
A breeze slipped through the window, rustling the map of the city left unfolded on his desk, making a soft, whispering sound.
Edgar stared at the map in silence, and deep within his eyes, an invisible fire seemed to flicker into life.
—The night was only just beginning.