The Dresvane Family, one of the most prestigious families in the entire Eryndor Kingdom, a ducal house with a long-standing history and tradition, having served the crown for generations, and one of the key figures behind the kingdom's creation.
The first patriarch had paved the way for his descendants to live comfortably, with a territory nearly as large as the entire kingdom.
From ancestors who had once been wandering nomads, the family had risen to become one of the most powerful forces in the land.
The family not only boasted a rich heritage but also immense wealth. The Dresvane Family had spread its influence across the kingdom, maintaining numerous connections with other noble houses, with fortunes touching nearly every corner of commerce and industry.
On top of that, their descendants were remarkable in their own right. Many of the children excelled in various areas—some became the darlings of society, others rose to high positions in the military, and some displayed extraordinary business acumen.
The current patriarch, Adolf, was a strict man who faithfully upheld the family's traditions. A skilled businessman, he had expanded the family's wealth further while maintaining a rigid discipline with his three children.
From a very young age, all three sons were trained with precision and care. By the age of five, they were under the guidance of scholars and experts in various fields. They learned archery, horseback riding, and the finer points of etiquette—everything carefully designed to shape them into perfect heirs of the Dresvane legacy.
Although times had changed with the rise of technology, Adolf allowed no room for complacency. He demanded excellence from his children. In addition to the many tutors employed, Adolf personally instructed them in matters of family, legacy, and the responsibilities they bore as heirs.
And it had worked well—for the two eldest, at least.
Philip, the eldest, possessed remarkable business acumen, frequently meeting with veteran businessmen and influential figures across the territory. Charismatic and confident, he was widely admired in both noble and business circles.
Isaac, the second son, pursued a military career and quickly rose through the ranks, earning recognition for his skill, discipline, and leadership. He was aloof and silent, yet renowned for his ability to command respect, especially in a world where the two great empires were constantly eyeing one another.
His eldest and middle child were busy with their own lives, expanding their influence beyond the family name.
But the youngest, Theodore, was different.
Born frail, he often spent weeks bedridden. There were many times when it seemed he wouldn't survive, yet somehow, he always recovered, almost miraculously.
Even the kingdom's most renowned doctors, masters in their respective fields, could do nothing for him.
Unlike his brothers, Theodore was far from charismatic. Shy and withdrawn, he disliked social gatherings and often retreated to his room. On top of that, he struggled with his studies, finding even simple lessons challenging.
Adolf often compared Theodore unfavorably to his elder sons, seeing them as worlds apart.
He was strict even with his youngest, believing that rigorous discipline was essential to raising a well-rounded individual. Yet, despite endless lessons and structured schedules, Theodore never seemed to make progress—he struggled with even basic arithmetic and simple tasks.
Adolf worried constantly. He would seek solace in his wine or cigarette, questioning himself—what had he done wrong? Was it his fault? Or perhaps his wife's? She had always coddled Theodore, tending to him with gentle care rather than strict discipline.
Yet he knew he could not blame her. The truth was simple: Theodore was far less capable in many areas. At twenty-seven, he had barely formed any meaningful human connections. Often, he would lock himself in his room while the servants delivered his meals, and he wasted his life away.
This worried Adolf deeply. His elder sons were capable, independent, and accomplished, but Theodore… he feared for his future.
Adolf feared that once he and his wife were gone, Theodore would be left vulnerable. He could be cheated out of his inheritance, exploited by his brothers—though Adolf knew his two sons would never do such a thing. Still, how could he know what the future held when he was already buried six feet underground? or worse deceived by a woman seeking only his wealth.
Even in these modern times, rivalries over inheritance persisted—and Adolf couldn't bear the thought of Theodore being left defenseless. He was strict, yet cared deeply for his children.
He imagined countless worst-case scenarios. Theodore was already twenty-seven, yet he spent nearly all his time in his room, rarely joining the family for meals. On top of that, he had been spending an alarming amount of money on a popular game, deepening Adolf's concern.
Adolf knew the game well. Infinite had become a global sensation, boasting over four billion users worldwide. It was an online universe where creators could publish their own worlds, known as rifts. Players explored these rifts, interacting with the challenges and environments the creators designed.
Of course, Adolf wasn't naive—he understood the game's potential. After all, Philip his eldest, was already connected with major gaming companies to promote the family's industries using the game.
But Theodore's obsession worried him—not just for the boy's health, but for what he was doing. Though Adolf didn't mind the money his son spent, he eventually decided to cut off Theodore's account.
Only for his wife to step in and restore it.
Adolf could only shake his head, taking a slow puff from his cigarette. He had tried everything—even consulting psychologists and therapists—but it was all in vain.
"Bah… back in my day, there was no such thing as mental health," he muttered.
He had even faced the trenches of war, and infighting over the family title. Perhaps it was his sheer willpower that had gotten him through. Still, he could only drown himself in fine wine and cigarettes. He had already given up on Theodore.
"Hurry. We must clean up Master Theodore's room."
Adolf, lost in his usual routine, noticed the servants moving unusually quickly, carrying trash, clothes, and even pillows. He put out his cigarette. The servants, realizing he was there, bowed deeply.
"Master!" they greeted.
Adolf raised a hand. "What's going on? Where are you taking these?"
The servants hesitated before finally replying, "Master Theodore asked us to clean his room. We're sweeping everything and changing his mattress."
Adolf raised an eyebrow. His son? He could hardly believe it. He quickly dismissed them. He didn't meddle further, but he wondered what Theodore was up to.
Following the servants, he noticed the doors to Theodore's room were wide open—something he had never seen before. His son stood in the center, wearing disheveled clothes, as the servants tidied the room, swept the floors, and deep-cleaned everything.
It had been two months since Adolf last saw him. He caught only glimpses before, his son never bothered interacting with him. Or bothered showing his face.
The boy was thin, pale, with deep eye bags, and long hair that partially covered his eyes.
But there was something else—something strange. It wasn't just the suddenness of this; it was his son's initiative. Adolf remembered Theodore's previous tantrums whenever the servants tried to clean his room, yet now he had called them himself.
Adolf cleared his throat, coughing a few times. Theodore finally noticed him. They locked eyes. Adolf couldn't help but speak: "Theodore?"
Only his name came out. It had been a long time since they last spoke, and even then, it was only brief greetings.
A few seconds later, Theodore replied, softly: "Father, what a lovely day, isn't it?"
Adolf's eyes widened. Even the servants paused, shocked to hear him speak. Adolf went silent for a few seconds, then managed, "Y-yes… would you like to take a walk outside?" he asked, though he already knew the boy might refuse. Theodore hated leaving his room.
But the boy raised his head. "Yes… that would be lovely."
Adolf suppressed his shock, coughing to clear his throat. They walked side by side outside the manor. Only the sound of their footsteps filled the air. Unusual silence fell between them. Adolf had no idea what to say—he had never felt so conflicted. With his other sons, conversation flowed naturally. With Theodore, it was always strained.
'Should I ask him about his day? What about the games he's been playing in Infinite*? Or… um, how much money he's spent? No, no.' Adolf was internally screaming. He couldn't come up with anything to start a conversation, and as the silence between them stretched on, it became unbearably awkward.
The servants, walking nearby, were oblivious, though their curious eyes kept flicking toward the young master, rarely seen by anyone.
When they arrived outside of the manor, it was unbearably hot, Theodore instinctively paused, squinting as the light blinded him. "It really is a beautiful day," he said softly.
Adolf continued staring, unable to process what he was seeing. This was unprecedented.
"Father…"
Adolf paused, then replied, stammering: "Y-yes?"
"I… I think… I'm bleeding."
The boy turned. His nose was bleeding heavily. Before Adolf could react, Theodore collapsed, unconscious, hitting the ground.