"I hope he stays out of this mess," Karl thought as he hung up the phone and turned his attention towards the rising sun. He had not been joking when he warned Herman that he would stand against him if the marshal decided to interfere with the establishment of their mana veins. Those veins would become one of the foundations upon which the Sonnenberg family would build its future, and Karl had no intention of allowing anyone to endanger them. This was not simply a matter of money, influence, or political convenience, but something that could determine whether his family would continue to exist for generations to come.
Even if the Sonnenbergs eventually disappeared from the face of the Earth, Karl trusted the remaining Trade Families and Great Houses to protect their forest and prevent outsiders from taking control of it. After all, that was precisely what they had done for countless families that had fallen over the centuries, preserving their ancestral lands until a descendant became strong enough to reclaim what rightfully belonged to them. The old families understood that the disappearance of a name did not necessarily mean the end of its legacy, provided someone remained willing to safeguard what had been left behind. They had followed that principle for generations, and Karl saw no reason why they would abandon it now.
They had even extended that protection to the former Great House of the Netherlands, despite the fact that the Sonnenbergs themselves had helped bring that family down. Personal grudges and political conflicts were one thing, but the preservation of a family's legacy was another matter entirely. Within their circles, there were certain principles that transcended temporary alliances, and the protection of ancestral holdings was one of them. The old families might fight each other when their interests collided, but they understood that the complete destruction of every defeated rival would eventually weaken the very system that had allowed them all to survive.
In their eyes, there was only one measure of success that truly mattered: longevity. Wealth could disappear, political influence could shift, and even the most talented individual could be forgotten within a few generations. Karl had seen too many geniuses rise to prominence, accomplish extraordinary things, and then vanish into the dust of history without leaving behind anything that could preserve their names. Their achievements might once have changed the world, but if no one remembered them or continued their work, their victories would eventually become little more than forgotten stories.
Of course, that was not entirely accurate, because the Great Houses and Trade Families had made a deliberate effort to prevent such people from being forgotten completely. Each family maintained records of individuals whose accomplishments had been buried beneath the passage of time, preserving their names and achievements in private libraries that outsiders would never have the opportunity to examine. They recorded the stories of inventors whose ideas had transformed daily life, commanders whose tactics had changed the outcome of wars, and thinkers whose discoveries had been overshadowed by more famous figures. Their collections served as a reminder that history did not always remember the people who deserved recognition, but that did not mean their achievements had to disappear entirely.
One example was the craftsman who had developed the first spectacles in Italy during the thirteenth century. Although his invention had become an important part of human history, the name of the person responsible for that original breakthrough had not been preserved in the historical record available to the public. The Great Houses had made a point of recording such cases, documenting not only famous figures but also the unknown individuals whose work had shaped the world. For them, it was not enough to remember the invention itself; they also wanted to preserve the story of the person who had made it possible.
Their collections covered an extraordinary range of achievements, from the smallest victories in disputes between local barons to the accomplishments of military geniuses such as Napoleon. They understood that the scale of an achievement did not necessarily determine its long-term importance, and that even a seemingly insignificant decision could influence events far beyond its original setting. A minor victory might preserve a family's independence, while a forgotten invention could eventually become essential to an entire civilization. By studying these examples, the old families had learned that talent alone was not enough to guarantee a lasting legacy.
Every Great House and Trade Family had originally maintained its own independent library, preserving the knowledge and historical records that it considered valuable. However, after the Cold War ended, they collectively decided that combining these particular collections would serve their interests better than continuing to keep every record separate. They brought together accounts of forgotten geniuses, lost inventions, political manoeuvres, and military strategies, creating a far more extensive record of human achievement than any individual family could have assembled alone. The arrangement also allowed them to compare their records and identify patterns that might otherwise have remained hidden within separate collections.
Looking back, Karl considered that period one of the moments when the Great Houses had become genuinely frightening. They had always possessed considerable influence, but their decision to cooperate in preserving and studying history had given them something far more valuable than wealth or political connections. They had begun to understand how power moved across generations, why certain families endured while others collapsed, and how easily an entire legacy could be erased when no one remained to protect it. Once they began looking at the world through that perspective, their priorities changed, and the implications of that change were difficult to overstate.
Before the twentieth century, the Great Houses had still struggled against one another for political supremacy, and the consequences of their rivalries had sometimes been devastating. The last major culmination of that older struggle had been the First World War, after which their behaviour appeared to change considerably. Rather than continuing to pursue power through increasingly destructive confrontations, they seemed to have reached an understanding that their long-term survival mattered more than winning every immediate contest. Their rivalry had not disappeared, but they had become considerably more restrained in how they expressed it.
That restraint was not the same as weakness, however, and Karl knew better than to mistake their apparent withdrawal for genuine peace. The Great Houses had begun pursuing something that he could only describe as real longevity, not merely the extension of an individual's life but the survival of a family's name, influence, and accumulated knowledge across the centuries. They had already removed enormous quantities of historical records during the First and Second World Wars, when the destruction and confusion of the period had provided opportunities to conceal or relocate information. After the Cold War, they appeared to have completed the process by removing many of the remaining traces that connected their present activities to their historical influence.
They had done an exceptionally good job, too, which was precisely what made the situation so unsettling. The Great Houses had managed to obscure much of their own history, despite the enormous influence they had exerted over European affairs for generations. Even the Trade Families, whose economic and political footprints had once been substantial, had become far less visible in the records available to ordinary people. Anyone studying history without access to their private libraries would struggle to understand how much influence these families had once possessed, let alone how much of it they continued to exercise behind the scenes.
Consequently, the old families had gradually withdrawn from public attention and learned to remain quiet. Even after they once again controlled many of Europe's lifelines, they had resisted the temptation to announce their return or openly display the full extent of their influence. They preferred to observe events, allow political developments to unfold, and intervene only when doing so served their long-term interests. In their eyes, revealing themselves prematurely would have been an unnecessary mistake, especially when remaining hidden allowed them to preserve their advantages without attracting unwanted attention.
Karl would have wagered that, if Gaia had never arrived and mana awakening had never transformed the world, the Great Houses would have continued operating in the shadows for thousands of years. Even if humanity eventually conquered the galaxy and established itself among the stars, he suspected that these families would still have preferred to remain behind the scenes, protecting their knowledge and influence while allowing others to take the public credit. They had already demonstrated that they were willing to sacrifice recognition in exchange for survival, and nothing suggested that their principles would suddenly change merely because humanity had expanded beyond Earth.
They appeared to have reached a single, final conclusion that governed nearly everything they did: the one who survives is the winner. It was a harsh principle, but Karl could not deny that history provided considerable evidence in its favour. The most brilliant individuals could be forgotten, the wealthiest families could collapse, and the most powerful nations could disappear, yet those who endured would always retain the opportunity to rebuild. From that perspective, survival was not merely the condition that made future victories possible; it was the most important victory in itself.
That was also why the Great Houses had become so active again. The arrival of mana had revealed a new world in which old advantages could no longer guarantee safety, and even the wealthiest family might find itself powerless against a sufficiently dangerous enemy. They had recognised the truth early enough to understand that remaining hidden would no longer be sufficient, because survival in the new world required strength that could be demonstrated when necessary. Their renewed public activity was therefore not a sudden abandonment of their principles, but an adaptation to circumstances that had made their old methods less reliable.
The mana veins were an especially important part of that transition, and Karl had no illusions about the families stopping after establishing their first ones. The Sonnenbergs intended to do the same as the other Great Houses and Trade Families, expanding their access to mana and securing the resources required to protect their future. These veins were not simply another investment or a convenient source of income, but the foundation upon which their continued survival might depend. When families with that much experience decided that something was necessary, anyone standing in their way needed to reconsider their position very quickly.
Karl understood that this was not a matter in which he could afford to compromise carelessly. If someone wanted something as important as the means to secure their family's survival, the sensible response was to get out of their way as quickly as possible, regardless of what they were asking. The Great Houses had spent centuries learning how to endure, and their willingness to act now demonstrated that they considered the present situation too dangerous to ignore. Interfering with their efforts without understanding the consequences would be an excellent way to turn a manageable political disagreement into a disaster.
Still, Karl could not help feeling pleased that the Sonnenbergs would finally be able to emerge from their forest properly. For generations, his family had remained secluded, protecting its territory and preserving its traditions while the outside world changed around them. They had endured the isolation because it served a purpose, but the arrival of mana had created opportunities that could no longer be ignored. Now, they had a chance to step into the wider world without abandoning the forest that had sustained them for so long.
"Although it is quite funny that we have kept ourselves locked up in this forest for so long, while the people we put on this show for have long since disappeared," Karl muttered aloud. The thought carried a mixture of amusement and frustration, because the Sonnenbergs had spent generations maintaining an arrangement whose original purpose had gradually faded into history. Their seclusion had helped preserve the theatre of rivalry between the Great Houses and the Trade Families, allowing the old political order to continue without exposing how much had changed behind the scenes. Yet the very people for whom they had maintained that performance were no longer around in the same form, leaving the Sonnenbergs to reconsider how much longer the old act was worth maintaining.
"I hate politics," Karl declared, rising from his chair and walking out of his office. He had to resist the urge to kick someone, particularly after reading the latest report from their warehouse and discovering how few nature stones the family had collected since the mine had opened two months earlier. The total stood at approximately six hundred stones, which meant they were collecting around three hundred every month through their current operations. That was a respectable amount under ordinary circumstances, but it was nowhere near enough to satisfy the family's ambitions, especially when nature stones were in high demand and other organisations were competing to acquire them.
The problem was that the Sonnenbergs needed the mine to expand before their production could increase substantially. Simply buying the remaining nature stones on the market was not a reliable solution, because there was no guarantee that enough stones would be available at a reasonable price. Other families and organisations had their own plans for mana veins, and they would not necessarily be willing to sell the materials the Sonnenbergs required. Depending entirely on the market would therefore leave the family vulnerable to shortages, price increases, and the decisions of people whose interests did not align with their own.
For that reason, Karl had already dispatched a small expeditions to inspect the mine and determine its current condition. He wanted to know how quickly its operations could be expanded, what obstacles might prevent further development, and whether there were any practical ways to improve the collection rate. At the same time, he had begun examining the mana stones already available to the family, searching for other varieties that might be suitable for establishing a mana vein. Nature stones remained their priority, but he was not willing to overlook alternatives that could reduce the pressure on their limited supplies.
"Still, I am glad I found him so quickly," Karl thought with a smile as he left the family compound. Herman possessed considerable expertise when it came to the forest, and that knowledge made him a valuable person to consult despite the political complications surrounding their current situation. Karl had no desire to turn their disagreement into a larger conflict if it could be avoided, particularly when both of them had more important matters to handle. For now, he would focus on securing the resources his family needed and hope that Herman understood when it was wiser to stay out of the way.