"It doesn’t matter how powerful he becomes in the future."

William calmly looked at the blood flame dancing above his palm before continuing in the same composed voice.

"I can still kill him instantly using this."

The Blood Flame continued to burn quietly without producing any heat that could be felt by either Sera or Tamasya. It looked almost beautiful at first glance, but both of them understood that the quietest weapons were often the deadliest. Moreover, If it was possessed by a primarch in the past, then it was not to be underestimated.

They had witnessed enough of William’s abilities by now to know that he never exaggerated when speaking about something related to combat.

Both women exchanged brief glances before looking back at the flame.

They had certainly not expected William to make such a straightforward statement. Although his words sounded somewhat ruthless, neither of them misunderstood his intention. He was not saying it because he wished to kill Maximus someday. Rather, he was reassuring them that he had already prepared for the worst possible outcome.

The weight that had been sitting inside their hearts became noticeably lighter.

Even so, Tamasya still folded her arms together as she remained deep in thought. She was not the type of woman who allowed emotions alone to decide such matters.

"William, I understand what you’re trying to say." She spoke calmly with her arms crossed.

"But we never truly know what someone might do in the future." Her expression became increasingly serious.

"Maximus has already shown in the past that he can be easily manipulated."

She let out a quiet sigh. "He was willing to believe the false promises offered by the Kylark demonic cult because of how emotionally vulnerable he was after he lost Lia."

Her eyes shifted toward the Blood Flame before returning to William.

"I simply don’t think we should trust him enough to expose things like the world tree or the amount of subordinates you have working for you."

William listened without interrupting her. When she finished speaking, he nodded in agreement.

"You’re right." His answer came without hesitation. "That’s exactly why I never intended to let Maximus see everything." The Blood Flame quietly disappeared from his hand as though it had never existed.

"I’ll simply isolate this section of the domain from the rest."

Tamasya blinked in surprise.

"You can actually do something like that?"

William smiled faintly.

"I can. If you don’t realize I have already isolated the section where my subordinates stay, only you can enter inside, but they cannot come here without my will."

He spoke as though he were discussing something completely ordinary.

"I don’t need to let him enter every corner of this place."

He casually shrugged his shoulders.

"If necessary, I can also cover certain areas with illusions. There are plenty of ways to prevent someone from learning more than they should."

Tamasya remained silent for a few moments before slowly nodding.

She had almost forgotten that the domain itself was practically William’s personal world. If anyone could alter its layout or conceal parts of it from visitors, it would naturally be its owner.

The three of them continued discussing Lia’s condition for a few more minutes, carefully considering every possibility before finally reaching an agreement regarding how they would handle Maximus and Lia.

Several days later...

Inside the Sinclair Estate

The atmosphere in the mansion was as unusually tense and gloomy.

Servants quietly walked through the long hallways with lowered heads, carefully avoiding unnecessary conversation. Everyone could instinctively feel that something was different today, even if none of them understood exactly what had changed.

The Duke was absent from the mansion, having left early in the morning to deal with administrative matters concerning his fief.

Ordinarily, nobody would dare occupy the chair inside the Duke’s private study while he was away, but there were a few exceptions.

A woman leisurely sat in that chair as though it had always belonged to her.

In reality, it almost did.

Although the Duke officially ruled House Sinclair, everyone within the estate understood where the true authority resided.

The Duchess ruled this mansion.

She rested comfortably against the expensive seat while quietly watching the soft rays of the early morning sun filtering through the slightly blurred windows of the study.

The room remained silent.

Only the occasional crackling from the fireplace disturbed the stillness.

Puff.

She slowly inhaled from the long, elegant pipe resting between her fingers before releasing a cloud of pale smoke into the room.

The smoke carried a strangely sweet fragrance.

It smelled pleasant enough to tempt anyone into breathing more deeply; the scent was capable of dulling the clarity of one’s thoughts.

Her loose robes draped carelessly around her body, exposing smooth shoulders and portions of her pale skin without the slightest concern for modesty. Wrapped around one of her slender arms was an intricate black tattoo depicting a ferocious serpent.

The snake possessed seven eyes around its head. Each eye seemed unnervingly alive despite being nothing more than ink.

Her appearance alone possessed enough beauty to drive countless young noblemen into complete obsession. She was the Duchess of House Sinclair.

Within this estate, every servant feared her more than they feared the Duke himself. Her influence extended far beyond these walls as well.

Among the noblewomen of Riverdale, especially those belonging to the great ducal families, she possessed unmatched authority. Whether through influence, political connections, or sheer intimidation, very few dared oppose her openly.

Her eyes appeared slightly intoxicated from the smoke she continuously inhaled, yet beneath that hazy appearance remained a frightening awareness that missed almost nothing happening around her.

Suddenly the study door quietly opened.

Maximus entered without hesitation. A sheathed sword rested strapped to his waist; the sheath was adorned with green and violet gems.

It was the Serpent Fang Sword. A Platinum-tier weapon.

The sword itself carried a story. Months earlier, at the world academy trials, the Duke had declared a wager among his younger children. Whichever child successfully entered the World Academy would receive this treasured weapon.

The Duke of House Sinclair was many things, but he never broke his promises. Even when the winner turned out to be Maximus.

A half-noble blood.

Someone whom many members of the household considered unworthy. The Duchess had naturally attempted to change the outcome afterward.

She had offered Maximus another Platinum-tier treasure in exchange for surrendering the Serpent Fang Sword so that it could instead be used by Edward for some reason unknown to Maximus.

If this had happened in the past, Maximus would probably have accepted immediately. The old Maximus constantly doubted himself. He feared conflict.

He feared disappointing others. Most of all, he feared the Duchess.

Back then, he possessed almost no confidence in himself whatsoever.

However...

The Duchess had underestimated the hatred growing inside him. Everything she had done to Lia had left scars that could never heal.

That hatred had changed something fundamental inside him. He had not suddenly become courageous. He had not transformed into some fearless warrior who looked down upon everyone around him.

His self-esteem remained painfully fragile. His heart still carried hesitation. He still questioned himself more often than anyone realized.

The difference was that all those weaknesses had become buried beneath an overwhelming desire for revenge. Hatred had become the blanket covering every insecurity he possessed.

That hatred allowed him to refuse her. Not because he believed in himself.

But because revenge had become more important than fear.

Even if the transformation itself was unhealthy, it was still undeniably a transformation.

Now he stood with straight shoulders and a firm posture. The Serpent Fang Sword remained secured to his waist instead of being inside the storage ring; its purpose was clear: it was a symbolic victory of Maximus against the duchess’s forceful ways.

He wore the formal robes of House Sinclair.

His white hair had grown slightly longer since leaving for the academy, while his sharp facial features and violet eyes gave him a noticeably colder appearance than before.

He silently stared toward the Duchess.

There was no respect inside his eyes.

Only indifference.