The air in the Eryndor estate was thick with the scent of ink and parchment as Leon lounged in his study, swirling a glass of amber whiskey in his hand. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows against the walls. Across from him, Aldric stood with his usual impassive expression, arms crossed.

  "You took a dangerous risk with Grayson," Aldric said, his voice calm but laced with disapproval. "House Draymore won't sit idle when they realize they've been outmaneuvered."

  Leon smirked. "That’s the point. Let them squirm for a bit." He placed his glass down, the ice clinking softly. "They wanted to test me. Now I’m testing them."

  Aldric’s lips pressed into a thin line. "And when they respond?"

  Leon leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. "Then we’ll see who’s really playing the game and who’s just pretending."

  The door creaked open, and Celica slipped inside, tossing a folded parchment onto the desk. "Draymore's not happy," she said, her tone dry. "Kain’s moving pieces around the board, and it looks like he’s calling in reinforcements."

  Leon picked up the parchment and unfolded it, scanning the hurried scribbles. His eyes darkened slightly. "Hiring outside talent, huh? Mercenaries?"

  Celica nodded. "A group called the Crimson Vultures. Nasty lot. They specialize in... making people disappear."

  Aldric frowned. "This is an escalation. Are you prepared for it?"

  Leon’s smirk returned, though his eyes held a dangerous edge. "Always."

  The Streets of Velkath – Midnight

  Leon and Celica moved through the shadowy backstreets of Velkath, the city’s underbelly alive with whispers and suspicion. They had one goal tonight—gather intel on the Crimson Vultures before they could make their move.

  The duo slipped into a rundown tavern near the docks, its interior reeking of stale ale and sweat. In the far corner, a group of rough-looking men sat, their conversations low but tense. Leon recognized the crimson insignia embroidered on their coats—vultures circling a bleeding dagger.

  "Bingo," Leon murmured.

  Celica nudged him. "You're not thinking of walking right up to them, are you?"

  Leon grinned. "What better way to learn than from the source?"

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  Before Celica could protest, Leon sauntered over to the table, dropping a few gold coins onto it with a casual smile. "I hear you lot are new in town. Thought I'd offer a welcome drink."

  The largest of the mercenaries, a scar-faced brute with dark eyes, eyed Leon suspiciously. "And who the hell are you?"

  Leon leaned in, his voice low. "Just someone who appreciates a fine crew when I see one." He tapped the coins. "Consider it a gesture of goodwill."

  Scarface grunted but took the gold, signaling for drinks. "You got questions, rich boy?"

  Leon smirked. "Just one. Who hired you?"

  The mercenary chuckled darkly. "Nice try."

  Leon’s fingers danced over the rune-engraved bullet in his pocket. "Fine. Different question, then. How much would it take for you to look the other way?"

  Scarface’s grin faded, and his eyes narrowed. "You think we're for sale?"

  Leon’s smile didn’t waver. "Everything’s for sale, friend. You just have to name the right price."

  The mercenary leaned in, his breath heavy with ale. "Draymore’s offering a lot to see you dead, kid. More than you can match."

  Leon tilted his head thoughtfully. "Maybe. But consider this—Draymore's desperate. And desperate employers don’t pay their mercs when things go south."

  Scarface paused, his brow furrowing slightly.

  Leon pressed on. "I can offer something better than gold—insurance. Work with me, and I make sure you stay alive long enough to spend your fortune."

  The mercenary studied him for a long moment before a slow grin spread across his face. "You're either insane or brilliant."

  "Both," Leon replied with a wink. "Now, do we have an understanding?"

  Scarface chuckled, taking another swig. "You’ve got my interest. But if you screw us over..."

  Leon patted his shoulder, standing up. "I never do."

  Eryndor Estate – The Next Day

  Leon sat across from Duke Eryndor in the grand study, the morning light streaming through the high windows. He slid a folded piece of parchment across the desk, containing the names of the Crimson Vultures’ leadership and their operational weaknesses.

  His father examined it with his usual stoic expression. "You took an unnecessary risk."

  Leon shrugged. "I took an opportunity."

  Duke Eryndor sighed. "And what have you learned?"

  Leon smiled. "Draymore’s getting sloppy. They're throwing money at problems instead of solving them properly. If we push just a little harder, they’ll crack."

  The Duke set the parchment down and regarded his son carefully. "And you intend to be the one applying that pressure?"

  Leon’s grin sharpened. "Someone has to."

  A long silence stretched between them before Duke Eryndor finally nodded. "Very well. But be careful, Leon. This game you're playing has consequences."

  Leon stood, his eyes gleaming with confidence. "That's what makes it fun."

  House Draymore – Midnight

  Kain Draymore stood in his private study, his fingers drumming against the table in agitation. The report in front of him detailed Leon’s recent moves, and for the first time in a long while, he felt something he didn't like—uncertainty.

  "So, the little noble thinks he can outwit me," he muttered, swirling his wine.

  A shadowy figure in the corner of the room spoke, their voice cold and mechanical. "He’s clever. But cleverness can be dealt with."

  Kain’s lips curled into a wolfish grin. "Then let's deal with him. Prepare the next phase."

  The figure nodded and disappeared into the darkness.

  Kain leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine. "Let’s see how far you're willing to go, Lord Eryndor."

  Outside, the wind howled through the city streets, and somewhere in the shadows, plans were being set into motion—plans that would test Leon in ways he never imagined.

  End of Chapter Ten.