The name hung in the air, a single word that acted like a switch, instantly draining the warmth from the chamber. The relaxed, post-spar atmosphere didn't just evaporate; it shattered, replaced by a sudden, razor-sharp focus.
Orion, Elysia, Lisanna, and Lyra all straightened as if pulled by invisible strings.
In the eyes of the siblings, a flicker of genuine, predatory curiosity danced—the promise of a true challenge after a vigorous warm-up.
For Elysia and Lisanna, however, the transformation was far more profound. A tidal wave of pure, unadulterated confidence, potent and exhilarating, surged through their veins. It was a baptism of power, washing away the last vestiges of the ingrained caution that had been meticulously drilled into them since birth.
There was a time, a lifetime ago it seemed, when the mere mention of the Valerian family would have sent a chill of deep-seated anxiety down their spines. For decades, that single, ruthlessly ambitious house had locked horns with the combined might of the Wintercroft and Vance families, a bloody and protracted shadow war where no decisive victor ever emerged. The Valerians were a constant, looming threat, an insurmountable wall of ambition and power.
But that was before Orion.
This was now.
Now, they were flanked by two forces of nature, two monsters whose potential seemed to stretch beyond the very fabric of common sense, tearing holes in the known reality of power progression. The fear was gone, replaced by an eager anticipation.
A low chuckle, sharp and hungry, escaped Lyra's lips. She rose to her feet in a single, fluid motion, the movement so seamless that the dust motes dancing in her wake seemed to part for her. The sound of her neck cracking was not a sign of stiffness, but a promise of violence.
"It's always such a lovely thing when problems come looking for us," she remarked, her voice laced with a dangerous amusement. "And since you two patriarchs came all the way down here personally, I assume it's a big hitter from that family."
Kaelen Vance, his expression etched with the weariness of a thousand political battles but his eyes as sharp as ever, gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Indeed. The situation is… delicate," he said, the word feeling utterly inadequate. "Even if Theron and I were to make a move ourselves, at full strength, it would only complicate matters. It would invite a level of scrutiny from forces outside Zenith that we simply cannot afford right now. But with your… prowess," he paused, the word barely containing the sheer, world-breaking scale of what he had just witnessed in the training yard, "our options become far more lucrative."
As the girls stood, Orion gave a respectful nod to the two patriarchs, his deference a stark contrast to the overwhelming power he contained.
He then turned to cast a gentle, amused smile at Elysia and Lisanna, a silent question passing between them.
The air was thick with the tension of impending conflict, yet he felt none of it, his calm a placid lake in the heart of a hurricane. "Ready to make a first, big splash on this world?"
"Yes!" Lisanna chirped, her entire body thrumming with infectious enthusiasm as she pumped a fist. "Those bastards will make a good stepping stool!"
Elysia raised a delicate eyebrow, a small, confident smirk playing on her lips. "It's 'stepping stone,' my dear. But yes," she added, her voice dropping to a murmur laced with an icy, unshakable resolve, "the time has come to make our move."
With their confidence blazing like a newborn star and Orion at the helm, the team followed Theron and Kaelen out of the scarred and battered training facility. Their determined footsteps echoed off the reinforced walls, a rhythmic promise of the storm that was about to break over Zenith City.
...
The two patriarchs led Orion's team not to a drawing-room or a lounge, but to the estate's strategic heart. It was less a meeting chamber and more a nerve center, a breathtaking fusion of old-world opulence and cutting-edge technology. The walls were paneled with polished, dark mahogany that had witnessed generations of planning, but they now housed flickering holographic displays.
Plush, high-backed chairs, embroidered with family crests, were arranged around a massive conference table whose smooth, obsidian surface could project intricate, real-time data streams from across Zenith City.
The very air hummed with the silent, tireless work of information gathering—stock tickers, Aether signature trackers, and encrypted surveillance feeds all painted a living portrait of the city's hidden wars.
The group settled around the table, and Theron, dispensing with all pleasantries, wasted no time. With a few deft gestures across the holographic interface, he brought up a series of detailed files that hovered in the air, filled with corporate structures, surveillance logs, and detailed profiles of key Valerian family members.
"The Valerians have always taken a special, unwelcome interest in our families," he began, his voice a grim baritone that resonated with years of conflict. "But it seems they've become exceptionally observant since you and your sister came into our lives, Orion."
Lyra chuckled, a sound devoid of humor. She leaned back in her luxurious chair, her casual posture seeming almost profane in the sanctum of high-stakes politics. "Oh, that probably has something to do with the fact that the little goons they sent to kidnap Elysia for ransom died at our hands. They probably can't figure out who cleaned up their mess."
A beat of profound, stunning silence descended upon the room. It was so absolute that the low hum of the technology seemed to vanish. Theron and Kaelen's eyes widened, a flicker of genuine, unadulterated shock breaking through their stoic facades.
Theron's gaze snapped to his daughter, his voice taking on a sharp, paternal edge that was rarely heard. "Is this true, Elysia? Why was I not informed of this?"
"Ah..." Elysia paused, a rare flush of color rising on her cheeks. Her life had undergone such a seismic shift in the past few weeks that the kidnapping incident felt like a distant, half-remembered dream.
It was a minor footnote in the grand, world-altering epic that had become her new reality. If not for Lyra's blunt, unceremonious reminder, the memory might have remained buried.
Lisanna, ever the supportive friend, giggled lightly, the sound a small bell in the heavy silence. She offered a wry, apologetic smile. "Eh, Mr. Wintercroft, we… just forgot about it. I mean, you have to admit, things have been pretty wild lately."
Kaelen let out a long, tired sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if trying to physically ward off a migraine. "Be that as it may, we need to know everything the Valerians do. That little stunt wasn't a random act of villainy. It was a probe. A preliminary part of a much larger plan they're only now gaining the confidence to execute."
"Now, now," Orion's calming voice cut through the rising tension like a warm knife through butter. He gestured dismissively at the lingering issue, his confidence a tangible force in the room. "It honestly doesn't matter much. Those Valerians, and whatever plans they have, simply cannot pose any kind of threat to us. So, let's get to the topic of why we're here."
Neither Theron nor Kaelen could deny the unshakable certainty radiating from him. It wasn't arrogance; it was an objective truth they had just witnessed with their own eyes.
Theron cleared his throat, forcing himself to refocus. "Right. Your… intervention… is most likely the reason for their heightened scrutiny. Because of the injuries we sustained, Kaelen and I were forced to miss several key events these last few days. The weakness in our Aether auras would have been a beacon to our rivals, leading to even more complicated situations. And now, it seems they mean to press their advantage, capitalizing on our perceived lack of a public showing."
"That Collyer Valerian," Kaelen nearly spat the name, his voice dripping with years of accumulated disdain. "He's an ambitious, filthy snake. Any opportunity he believes he can exploit to harm our houses, he will seize without hesitation. And he's doing so right now, attempting a hostile takeover of three of our shared neutral-ground companies—vital assets that maintain the balance of power in the city's corporate sphere."
Theron spoke up, swiping the air to highlight another file. An image of a handsome, smug-looking young man with cruel eyes materialized above the table. "Furthermore, that rat son of his, Cassian, has just issued a public invitation to the annual Zenith Tech Conclave tomorrow. He's framing it as a 'public showing of young Heroes,' a chance for the city to see how much safer it is under the watch of the 'next generation.' Though he's couching it in words of goodwill and progress, he evi—"
Lyra suddenly waved a hand, cutting him off with an impatient sigh that echoed her brother's earlier dismissal. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. This is all just a political probe wrapped in a tech expo. They see you're hiding, so they're calling out your kids to see if there's strife in your ranks, right? So here's what's going to happen: we show up at whatever this conclave thing is, smash this Cassian guy's face in, and if his father has something to say about it, we'll smash his face in, too."
Elysia let out a long, suffering sigh, already massaging her temples as if to ward off the headache Lyra's brutal simplicity always induced.
"That's precisely what we won't do, you brute. Look," she said, her expression turning serious as she took command of the explanation, her noble upbringing rising to the surface. "There's one more critical piece of this puzzle you should be aware of concerning these Ranked Provinces. And that is the Provincial Hero Association Directorate."
She paused, letting the weight of the new term settle in the room. "While Provinces rarely interact with each other—and are often expressly forbidden to in cases of higher-ranked territories meddling with lower ones—there is still an information network that faintly connects all provinces. It's a council jointly held together by the supreme forces across all Provinces. Instantly stirring up trouble with a Noble C-Rank Hero house like the Valerians, a family with decades of merits and achievements logged with the Directorate, will invite unwanted attention. And not just from any Province, but from the strongest, most influential C-Rank Province in this entire region."
Lyra merely raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "So there's a pecking order even among these Ranks, eh? And if I have to assume, this 'powerful' C-Rank Province has deep connections to at least one B-Rank Province, right?"
Lisanna nodded, a slight, knowing smile on her face. "Right on. That's why it's so difficult for any of us to really go all out with each other. There will always be someone watching from above, a bigger fish in a bigger pond. We have to play this smart."
"Or," Orion said, his calm, confident smile cutting through the tangled web of political intrigue like a sunbeam through fog, "we simply play this on our terms. With the speed at which our powers are growing, everything you're worried about will have an inevitable conclusion. Tell me, just how fast can information really reach that Directorate?"
The two nobles fell silent, the simple, practical question catching them off guard. They were so used to thinking in terms of political fallout and long-term consequences that they hadn't considered the raw logistics of it. After a moment, Theron answered, his voice thoughtful.
"The space between each Province is indeed massive. Even in the most advanced speed ships, just reaching a neighboring Province would take four days at a minimum. And that's not counting the troubles that would inevitably delay any trip when traveling beyond Zenith's walls. It would take a significant amount of time before a formal report reaches the Directorate, and even more time for a response to be formulated and an investigative team dispatched."
For a brief second, Orion's curiosity was piqued by the casual mention of "troubles" beyond the city walls, a hint of a wilder, more dangerous world. He filed the intriguing tidbit away for later. It was not the focus now.
With a serene smile, he delivered his conclusion. "Then we'll do pretty much what Lyra said. We'll show up, and we'll introduce the Valerians to the new hierarchy. By the time they can complain to anyone who matters, none of what they say will matter in the slightest."
A heavy, profound silence fell in the chamber.
The two patriarchs sat deep in thought, grappling with the sheer, unadorned audacity of Orion's words. It was so straightforward, so devoid of the brilliant schemes, counter-schemes, and underlying plays that had defined their entire lives. It was a plan based on nothing but brutally direct action, on a foundation of power so immense that it rendered politics obsolete.
After decades of dealing with the Valerians' insidious, creeping plots, it was a mystifying, almost reckless concept to accept.
Theron narrowed his eyes, his gaze as sharp as tempered steel. "Your power… do you really believe it's enough to overturn the entire situation? To not just win, but to convince everyone watching? You have to remember that our estate doesn't rely solely on ourselves. Our public image, our reputation for stability and strength, needs to be maintained for our operations to run smoothly."
A hearty, unrestrained laugh erupted from Lyra. It wasn't a laugh of mirth, but of pure conviction.
"Isn't that even simpler?" she scoffed, pushing her chair back and rising to pace the room. "No matter what anyone wants to say about who is good or who is this benevolent leader that will bring peace, there is one fundamental truth that will make people believe: absolute power."
Her voice filled the chamber, each word a hammer blow against the delicate structure of their political world. "Not just power that seems better, or power that is strong but could potentially be defeated one day. No. I'm talking about power so absolute, so overwhelming, that the very thought of opposing it never even forms. Power where the only choice is to submit or to die."
She waved her hand dismissively, as if swatting away generations of established doctrine. "I'll admit, to make the process go faster for the common idiot, it's better to show a slightly less heavy hand. But in general, once people realize that there is only one path to follow, and that this path will lead to endless benefits no matter what boring lives they want to live, everything else will fall into place."
"You—" Elysia opened her mouth, an instinctive retort on her tongue, a defense of order and reason born from a lifetime of opposing such brazen, tyrannical philosophies. But the words died before they could form.
Because she saw it. She saw the looks on the faces of her father, of Kaelen Vance, and even of Lisanna. They were deeply, profoundly contemplating Lyra's words.
Crude as they were, arrogant as they sounded, they held an undeniable, terrifying truth. This was an era where one individual's power could suppress the majority. Anyone whose strength seemed utterly, incomprehensibly unbeatable would inevitably draw followers, all wanting to latch on for a piece of the prosperity and protection. Such a situation rarely, if ever, happened with the strict controls and separations between Provinces.
But every noble in that room knew that in this crazy life, nothing was ever truly absolute. And the absolutes they were now facing were sitting at their table.