The Golden Lion's Wrath
Clatter! The sound began with the dishes on the table rattling, then spread as every object in the room started to shake and shift. But something moved even faster. I sensed the precursor to a massive surge of magical power and whipped my head around.
“Father.”
My older brother Aidan called out to him. Golden magic shimmered in Father’s deep golden eyes. A misty haze of power began flowing from his body, spreading outward.
At Aidan’s voice, Father’s gaze turned toward us. That single look filled the room with such dense magic it felt like we might suffocate. My brother and I were fine, but one person was on the verge of death.
“Urk…!”
The overwhelming pressure had Train Muller slumped on the sofa, barely conscious. He was gasping for air, but at least there didn’t seem to be any physical damage. I briefly considered helping him, but decided it would be rude to interfere too much.
“Excuse me a moment.”
I rose from my seat, walked to the window, lifted the curtain, and looked outside. The clear blue daytime sky was turning yellow. Like sunset glow bleeding across the heavens, the blue expanse and pure white clouds were being dyed in brilliant gold. That radiance now stretched across the entire city sky.
In the legend of the Golden Lion, there is such a story. It tells of a golden lion that brings victory and prosperity beneath a sky dyed red and yellow like twilight.
Father’s golden figure looked like something straight out of ancient myth. It was no wonder the ancients might have seen him as a god or divine messenger and worshipped him with awe.
When I focused magic into my eyes to observe the city, the sight was almost comical. Every commoner’s daily routine had ground to a halt. They had stopped everything and fallen to their knees in prayer. They knew exactly who was causing this phenomenon—the power of the master they feared above all else.
Old men and women, trembling with both terror and reverence, recited the now-forgotten prayers to the Golden Lion. They simply stared at the sky, hoping this divine anger would pass, waiting for the moment to end.
Ha. We’re screwed.
“Father. Please calm yourself.”
“...Hoo.”
Only after my second call did he sigh and slowly pull his magic back under control. The yellow sky finally returned to its original blue.
There were still retainers from the eldest son’s faction inside the castle. They might have noticed something.
“I lost my temper for a moment. My apologies.”
“Cough, ugh…! N-not at all, my lord…!”
Train Muller tried to compose himself and answer as calmly as possible, but pure terror filled his eyes whenever he looked at Father.
In truth, it had been a long time since I’d seen Father’s full power. As expected, it was incredible.
Father seemed to have calmed down. I glanced at my brother and gestured toward the meeting room, but he shook his head. This wasn’t the past. Since the man had come as an envoy to our territory, we had to guarantee his safety.
With a bitter smile, I turned back to Father, who was still simmering with rage.
Father valued noble conduct above all else. It was a tradition stretching back to ancient times. He sincerely believed that protecting the people from external threats and governing the land was the only life of true worth. Naturally, he held immense pride in his own bloodline.
He showed respect to all nobles, regardless of status. Even toward those beneath him, his courteous behavior wasn’t merely respect for the other party—it stemmed from his pride in the Franz family blood that ran through his own veins.
What Father hated most was anyone who willingly lowered that dignity. Human ranches. Forced breeding. Selective improvement of bloodlines… and so on.
“To think there are still people committing such acts.”
Father’s face twisted in disgust.
He had once told us that such things occurred during the age of war. While some nobles protected their family honor even in defeat, or bowed gracefully to a superior house, others cast aside all honor and dignity, using any means necessary to win. That was the type Father despised most.
“...After that incident, full-scale internal conflict began. The family head determined that he had gone too far and stripped the eldest son of his position as successor. Since then, he has withdrawn from all territory affairs, claiming his own matters end there.”
Hmm. Even if he’s ill, to remain in seclusion when things have reached this point…
“But he clearly has no intention of stepping back quietly.”
“Correct. After that, a fierce power struggle erupted between the eldest son’s faction and the second son’s faction. Of course, they never fought openly, but…”
The second son, Tirus Muller, commanded the larger force. Retainers dissatisfied with Tirson Muller’s rule, or those whose wealth had been seized, flocked to the second son’s side.
However, one reason Tirson Muller had originally secured the position of successor was his superior magic power.
“In terms of personal martial strength, Tirson Muller held the advantage. In fact, when the civil war began in earnest, some retainers switched to the eldest son’s faction because of it.”
Still, it wasn’t an insurmountable gap. The civil war dragged on far longer than anyone anticipated, until the barely concealed unrest in the territory finally drew the Franz family’s attention.
Once the Mullers realized the Franz were moving, both the eldest and second sons sent separate envoys. That brought us to today.
“I see. I understand the situation well.”
After listening to Train Muller’s explanation, I reflected on it. From our perspective—seeking to claim the Muller lands—there was nothing particularly surprising. The envoy sent by the second son would naturally speak ill of Tirson Muller. Since it came from a hostile viewpoint, I could simply filter the information appropriately.
We could compare it later with the report from our retainers who would meet the eldest son’s envoy to verify the facts.
The real issue was that last part about the breeding program. If true, Tirson Muller was already a dead man in Father’s eyes.
What came after was the problem. We couldn’t simply kill Tirson Muller, pat them on the back, withdraw, and tell them to govern well. It wasn’t that simple.
Tirus Muller had also failed in his duties as a noble, so there was no issue with justification. Which brought the conversation full circle.
“We, the second son’s faction—including Lord Tirus Muller—wish to surrender.”
“Hmm.”
Surrender. His words were straightforward.
“We will relinquish all rights, including complete ownership of the territory.”
Train Muller bowed deeply as he declared their intention to capitulate. They would hand over every asset the family possessed—including the land itself.
“Even if the family accepts this, how did you overcome the retainers’ opposition?”
“They understand the situation. There is no future if things continue as they are. In that case, it is better to pledge loyalty to a stronger house.”
Train Muller gave a bitter smile. At the very least, they would rather die than submit to the eldest son, Tirson Muller.
After saying this, he presented two conditions that Tirus Muller hoped to secure in exchange for surrender.
“The first concerns the retainers who supported Lord Tirus Muller. We hope they will receive some form of compensation. As their lord, he wishes to reward their loyalty, however minimally. He wants to fulfill his duty as a noble. This is Lord Tirus’s will.”
“I respect Tirus Muller’s desire to preserve noble pride. However, our Franz family has no positions for those lacking ability.”
Even if we sent our own people, there were limits. Any retainers with genuine talent would be employed as they were.
At Father’s words, Train Muller looked satisfied, saying that was sufficient. Then he stated the final condition.
Before speaking, he glanced at me.
“The second condition is that they wish for the Muller bloodline to continue.”
“Hmm.”
This made Father pause in thought. Wanting the bloodline to continue meant they sought the survival of the direct descendants.
The current direct line of the Muller family consisted of eldest son Tirson Muller and his son, plus second son Tirus Muller and his daughter, Triana Müller.
“Lord Tirus Muller is willing to stake his own life. He desires the death of Tirson Muller and his family. Afterward, he wishes for the remaining child to continue the bloodline as a concubine to the second son of Franz, Lord Leoric Franz.”
By offering his own neck, he removed any suspicion of future rebellion. He would cut off any justification other territories might use against them. And by handing over the last daughter carrying Muller blood to the second son of Franz, the family’s legacy would continue.
Well, I had expected as much. Father and Aidan showed no visible reaction, as if they had anticipated this as well.
“In exchange, we offer everything the Muller family possesses.”
Train Muller spoke with the face of a man who had abandoned all hope.