"All that for a young genius? Hmmm… this is far more than I expected. Much more. It only means one thing—the family is struggling badly these days." Robin frowned; the overwhelming welcome Caesar had received did not reassure him in the slightest.
"Of course they're not doing well! But this is nothing new—it didn't start today or yesterday. The Burton family hasn't produced a single high-level Saint for centuries. Even your Patriarch, Earl Brian, sits stuck at level 25. Like me, he's only a mid-level Saint.
Without a truly powerful Saint to lead, the family has been prey to constant raids from the neighbors. That's how simple it is. And this has been happening for generations." Mila's voice was sharp, but calm, as if describing the weather.
"They raid mines and cities, snatch away Burton lands to expand their own. Dozens, even hundreds, of Burton kin die every year because of it."
"Invasions? Raids? But aren't we all subordinate to the Black Sun Kingdom?" Robin raised his brows; back when he lived with the family, he had never bothered to care about the larger picture.
"Hehe~ and who's the fool now? The lands a family controls depend on the strength of its army. Do you think the royal family simply gives territories out of love? No. Every week, skirmishes break out somewhere in the kingdom. Sometimes even full small-scale wars. And almost always, the goal is simple: to take land from the neighbors."
"This…" Robin's expression grew darker. "Doesn't that mean the kingdom lives in a constant state of internal war? Why wouldn't the royal family intervene? Isn't such strife poisonous to the whole country?"
"In their eyes, it's not poison—it's medicine. As long as the fighting doesn't escalate beyond control, and as long as families swear to forget grudges and unite against external threats, the crown sees it as a blessing. Continuous conflict keeps noble families sharp, hungry for power, and desperate to strengthen themselves. And that, in turn, strengthens the kingdom as a whole. Don't you think so too, Mr. Genius?" Mila rolled her eyes at him.
Robin was silent. He could not fully refute her words. Indeed, an endlessly alert aristocracy would produce a nation of soldiers with strong defenses, very hard to breach. But at the same time, it burned families from within—resources wasted on petty wars, loyalty to the kingdom frayed, a sense of belonging corroded. In the long term, this kind of system might shatter from within. All it would take was one neighboring power offering alliance to a large family, and betrayal would hardly even feel like betrayal.
"…So you mean the Burtons are at war even now?"
"They're always at war. Ten years ago, they lost a massive tract of land to a neighboring Marquess. That defeat nearly stripped them of their Earldom, pushing them down toward Viscount status. Patriarch Brian led a suicidal counterattack to reclaim it. Thousands of your cousins died in one day. But in the end, the Burtons clawed back just enough to keep their Earl's title."
Robin exhaled slowly. "…No wonder they celebrated Caesar so fiercely. Their situation is worse than I imagined."
"So… what happened after the banquet?"
"Nothing particularly new. Caesar began challenging those at his level in the Duchy of Alton. He crushed them all. Then he went hunting for geniuses across the other Duchies. When he finished with equals, he moved on to those one level higher… then two levels higher.
Right now, within the Burton family he is worshipped like a god. I think at this very moment he's in the Duchy of Stanley, fighting one of their tenth-level prodigies."
"Haha, and you call that nothing exciting?" Robin's chest swelled with pride. Pride for the boy he had raised from infancy, pride for the talent he had shaped with his own hands.
"Hmph. I saw that white flame with my own eyes. At equal level, no human or beast alive can block it. Unless you're at least two full levels stronger, standing before it is nothing short of suicide." Mila leaned close, letting her generous curves press forward, eyes gleaming. "And you still won't pass the White Flame technique to me? I'll be generous… I'll give you anything you want."
"Oh? Not bad at all…" Robin smirked and leaned back. "Be my maid for twenty years. Do that, and I'll consider it."
"Tsk~ in your dreams!" Mila snapped and pulled away, folding her arms, gaze shifting back to the stage.
Robin chuckled but didn't push further. He knew that Mila had forged her pillars up to the 11th and 21st levels with the secondary Fire Shards Law. One of the most famous secondary techniques in the Black Sun Kingdom. Not because it was the strongest—but because the choices were few.
There were less than a thousand discovered laws in total. Many discoverers kept their techniques secret within their families. Some revealed the law but never wrote the technique, leaving only fragments behind. Others completed a technique but died before it spread. The result? A pathetically small pool of working, teachable law-cultivation techniques.
And of those, only a handful had been refined to the second or third level—like Fire Shards. Any kingdom could count them on one hand.
"Are you here to buy something specific?" Robin finally broke the silence.
"No, I was free, so I came. Who knows—maybe I'll find something useful. Something to help me break through to the next stage."
"…To level 25? You've got high expectations for this auction." Robin glanced at her with a crooked smile.
"…Huh? How did you know I'm at level 24? I've never announced it. All I said was that I'm a mid-level Saint." Mila's eyes narrowed. "That could mean anywhere between 24 and 27."
Robin snorted. "Damn it, woman! How many times do I have to say it—stop thinking of me as an ordinary person. For heaven's sake…"