Veyron entered the car without a word.
Emmy took the front passenger seat, her posture relaxed yet alert—every movement calculated to respond instantly to danger. The engine purred to life as the vehicle rolled out of the Blackvale Estate, a colossal domain stretching nearly half a kilometer in all directions.
Manicured gardens lined the roads. Surveillance runes shimmered faintly along the perimeter walls. Guard posts stood at every junction.
The servants' quarters surrounded the main mansion, allowing entire families to live within the estate while serving the Blackvales. Loyalty, after all, was easier to maintain when roots were buried deep.
The car moved westward through Soran City, the capital of Somaria.
Veyron gazed out the window.
High above the city's center floated several massive islands, suspended in the sky like fragments of a shattered world. At their core stood a towering structure encased in crystal-mirror barriers shaped into an enormous oval.
The World Academy.
The cradle of heroes.
The birthplace of legends.
Veyron's lips curved faintly.
This time…
that academy will tremble beneath my name.
His eyes lingered on one of the floating islands, already envisioning chaos unfolding across its pristine halls.
Half an hour later, the car slowed before a fifty-story building of black glass and steel.
The Harkins Agency.
Somaria's central hub for property transactions, land auctions, and discreet transfers of ownership.
Despite being the capital, vast portions of Somaria remained unclaimed—primarily mountainous regions infested with beasts. Most were used by the World Academy and elite families as training grounds.
Occasionally, when a territory was cleared or abandoned, it would be placed up for auction.
And Veyron knew—
One such mountain would soon become a catastrophe for the Blackvale Family.
A mistake in his previous life.
One he would now correct.
The car doors opened.
Veyron stepped out, followed by an entourage of guards. Emmy moved slightly ahead, subtly asserting authority without drawing attention.
Inside the building, a middle-aged man hurried forward.
"G-Greetings, Young Master Blackvale!"
Harris Harkins, supervisor of the Soran Branch, bowed quickly—his tone respectful, his smile carefully controlled.
Veyron's reputation preceded him.
"Relax, Mr. Harkins," Veyron said flatly. "I'm here to browse available properties."
Harris swallowed.
"O-Of course, Young Master. Please, allow me to escort you."
With a sharp gesture, Harris ordered his staff to prepare the VIP floor.
They rode the elevator to the 47th floor, reserved exclusively for high-profile clients. The room was luxurious yet professional—soft lighting, soundproof walls, and discreet security enchantments.
Snacks and desserts were served.
Veyron ignored them.
"Show me the upcoming auction catalogue," he said.
Harris immediately handed over a digital slate.
"These are the properties scheduled for auction next week," he said quickly. "If any interest you, we can… arrange a direct transfer. No auction necessary."
An offer.
A calculated one.
Veyron scanned the list calmly, his eyes pausing briefly on a specific mountain range.
There you are.
A place that would later birth a monster.
A resource vein others would fight over too late.
A future tragedy—if left untouched.
Veyron closed the slate.
"I'll participate in the auction," he said casually.
Harris stiffened for a fraction of a second before recovering.
"Of course," he replied, forcing a smile.
What a clever opportunist, Veyron thought.
Trying to buy favor instead of earning it.
He stood.
"I was only checking if anything caught my interest."
It had.
And he intended to take it—publicly.
Right from under their noses.
Harris watched him leave, frustration hidden behind courtesy.
This boy…
He'll become something terrifying.
Veyron exited the building without a backward glance.
The future had just shifted.
And no one noticed.
---