Iron Hearth Castle Dungeon. Night After the War.
The air down here was damp and reeked of rust. Water dripped from the stone ceiling with a rhythm that tortured the mind. Drip... Drip...
General Kael, the "Human Tank," now helpless, was chained to the wall with thick iron shackles. His golden armor had been stripped away, leaving a body covered in bandages and purple bruises from Duke Lucian's slam.
Standing before him was Grimm, the one-eyed old head butler. Grimm was casually cleaning his fingernails with a small, incredibly sharp scalpel. His face was an expressionless mask.
The heavy iron door creaked open.
Sir Rianor and Sir Roland stepped inside. They were still dressed in crisp black formal wear, a sharp contrast to the filthy dungeon atmosphere.
Grimm bowed respectfully. "Young Masters. Our guest remains silent. He insists he will only speak to Duke Lucian."
Rianor adjusted his cufflink. He stared at Kael coldly.
"My father is busy sipping tea. You are not worth disturbing his rest."
Kael spat on the floor. "Pah. Just kill me. I won't talk to snot-nosed brats. The honor of House Valerius cannot be bought."
Rianor smiled faintly.
"Grimm," Rianor called.
"Yes, My Lord?"
"Explain to General Kael about this 'Honor' he is so proud of."
Grimm stepped forward. His voice rasped like sandpaper.
"General... did you know? While you were unconscious this afternoon, Duke Varkas sent a carrier pigeon."
Kael's eyes lit up slightly. "He... he sent reinforcements? Or a ransom negotiation?"
Grimm shook his head slowly, feigning sadness.
"No. He sent an order to strike your name from the family tree. He blamed this war's defeat entirely on 'the stupidity of General Kael acting without orders.' Your wife and children were evicted from the General's residence this morning."
"LIES!" Kael shouted, his chains rattling violently. "I served him for 20 years! He wouldn't discard me!"
Roland stepped forward, holding out a small rolled paper taken from the leg of a pigeon shot down by Rhea.
"Read it yourself," Roland said. "That's Varkas's handwriting, isn't it?"
Kael read the letter with wide eyes.
...Kael is a disgrace. If captured, let him rot. House Valerius does not recognize failure...
The paper slipped from Kael's fingers.
The giant man slumped. His heart shattered more completely than his ribs. Twenty years of loyalty repaid with betrayal.
"So," Rianor squatted in front of Kael, locking eyes with him. "Varkas has discarded you. But House Sudrath... we appreciate talent."
"What do you want?" Kael whispered hoarsely.
"Info," Rianor answered quickly. "Varkas is stingy and a coward. He wouldn't dare mobilize 3,000 troops and 3 expensive Trebuchets in two weeks without outside funding. Who is the War Sponsor?"
Kael fell silent for a long time. He stared at the dungeon ceiling.
"If I talk... what's the guarantee?"
"Your family," Roland interjected. "We will send people to rescue your wife and children before Varkas changes his mind and kills them. They can live in Northreach under new identities."
Kael looked at Roland, searching for a lie. He saw only sincerity (or god-tier diplomatic acting).
Kael exhaled a long breath.
"The gold... came from the Capital," Kael admitted.
"Who?" Rianor pressed.
"Not just anyone. The seal on the gold crates bore the Black Sun."
Roland's eyes widened. He turned to Rianor.
"The Black Sun..."
"Yes," Kael continued. "That is the personal crest of Grand Chancellor Morvath. The Prime Minister of the Kingdom."
Rianor stood up straight. His face turned serious.
This was no longer a dispute between neighbors. This was a national conspiracy. The second most powerful man in the kingdom wanted House Sudrath destroyed.
"Why does Morvath care about a poor territory in the North?" Roland asked.
"Mines," Kael answered. "There are rumors that beneath Northreach, there isn't just iron. But Mithril (Magic Metal). Morvath wants to control it before the King finds out."
Silence.
That information was worth more than 50,000 gold.
If their land contained Mithril, they were sitting on a time bomb. Everyone would come for them.
"Grimm," Rianor ordered. "Tend to General Kael's wounds. Give him good food. He is now a valuable asset."
"Yes, My Lord," Grimm bowed.
Rianor and Roland turned, walking out of the dungeon.
Duke's Private Study (3rd Floor).
10 Minutes Later – Family Mode: ON.
As soon as the heavy study door locked shut, Rianor's posture changed instantly. His shoulders slumped, and he undid the top button of his collar that was choking him.
"Daaaaamn..." Rianor threw himself onto the plush sofa. "I swear, acting like a villain is exhausting, guys."
Roland immediately grabbed a water pitcher, chugging it straight from the spout without a glass. "Crazy, crazy, crazy. That Grimm is terrifying, I swear. I got goosebumps watching him clean his nails with a scalpel. Is that old man a psychopath or what?"
In the corner of the room, Riven was being treated with ice packs by Aurelia.
"Ouch, Mom... easy. My back is killing me after slamming a man as heavy as a cow," Riven winced.
"You were showing off too much, Ven," Aurelia scolded (Mom Mode), but her hands gently applied the ointment. "Acting all tough with bare hands. What if he had a hidden knife? Remember, Healthcare doesn't apply here."
"It was for the show, Mom. To break the enemy's mental state," Riven defended himself with a grin.
Lucian (Dad Mode) sat in a rocking chair, massaging his temples.
"Alright, the important thing is we won. But Nor, what did Kael say?"
Rianor sat up from the sofa, grabbing boiled peanuts from the table.
"Bad news, Dad. Varkas is just a puppet. The mastermind is Morvath, the Prime Minister. And he says our land has Mithril."
"Mithril?" Rhea (who was snacking on an apple while sitting on top of a bookshelf) dropped her jaw. "That RPG metal? The super strong and expensive one?"
"Yup," Rianor nodded. "No wonder Varkas was so eager to attack us. If this info leaks, it won't just be Varkas. The whole kingdom will raid us."
"So what do we do?" Rumina asked worriedly.
Rianor chewed his peanuts while thinking.
"We have to move faster. We have to mine that Mithril first, turn it into weapons, or sell it secretly for bigger war capital."
"That means we need miners," Roland chimed in. "And we need civil engineers."
Rianor snapped his fingers. "Exactly. And I know where to find them."
"Where?"
"The Capital Prison," Rianor smirked. "There are many scientists or mining experts detained by Morvath for dissenting. We're going to 'hijack' them."
"You mean... we're going to prank the Capital?" Roland asked enthusiastically.
"Not a prank, but a Human Resource Rescue Operation," Rianor corrected.
Suddenly, Raveena (Rafidha) entered carrying a tray.
"Excuse me... Veena brings Indomie... uh, I mean boiled noodles made by Ms. Martha! With eggs!"
"YEEEES!" Riven immediately shot up, forgetting his back pain. "This is what I've been waiting for! Move aside everyone, Commander gets two bowls!"
"No way! I did the diplomacy until my lips cracked!" Roland protested.
That night, in the warm, enclosed room of the castle, the most dangerous family in Aethelgard fought over boiled noodles while planning an economic coup against the Prime Minister.