"No matter what, this engagement must succeed. It’s the only way for you to prove your worth."

"…"

Naban Bacchus glanced at the family-appointed—or more accurately, the family-assigned "guard" who was watching him closely.

His hollow eyes were sunken, with a touch of madness in his gaze.

It was evident to anyone that he was in an abnormal state, clearly suffering from the effects of some drug.

"Heh! The Bacchus family has truly fallen low. Even if I'm considered just a discarded bastard, selling me off for money? Pathetic."

"You wish to die?"

The guard’s face twisted in anger, his hand moving toward the hilt of his sword.

"Go ahead and try," Naban scoffed in response.

"Oh, I’m sure the Ceres Company’s master would love his new son-in-law’s severed head. Or perhaps he’d actually enjoy it? Less to feed and house, saves him some coin. I've heard he's quite stingy with his money."

"You insolent…!"

"Relax your eyes before they pop out. I know my place better than anyone. I’ll scrape every last penny I can from the Ceres Company and bring it all back to the family. Hah!"

The guard loosened his grip on his sword, realizing that further talk with Naban would only be more irritating.

The marriage alliance between the Bacchus family and the Ceres Company.

While both parties were technically subordinate to Ragnar, they were not truly comparable.

The Bacchus family, once a leader among the Six Snow Clans with a rich tradition, and the Ceres Company, a mere merchant group not even a century old.

It was a union that the Bacchus family normally would not have considered.

Moreover, the bride offered by the Ceres Company was not even the eldest daughter but the fourth daughter—without any inheritance and even recently humiliated by losing her right arm to Theo.

That the engagement was moving forward anyway only emphasized how desperate the Bacchus family’s situation had become.

‘If only this crisis… if only we can resolve this crisis, the family will rise again. Endure this disgrace just this once.’

The fourth daughter of the Ceres Company was expected to bring a substantial dowry, which could provide much-needed relief to the Bacchus family, currently on the brink of bankruptcy.

‘After all, I am nothing more than an unwanted bastard child. And with less than five years left to live, this alliance will cause no issues for me.’

Publicly, Naban was known as the son of the first wife, but in reality, he was the offspring of a battlefield fling between the family head and a prostitute.

Were it not for his Bacchus family’s signature gray hair, he wouldn’t even have been recognized as part of the family.

So, sending him off to the Ceres Company was an easy decision.

He had a fatal condition that would kill him if he went more than five days without taking his medicine.

For the family, he was a burden to be discarded, along with his unfortunate medical expenses.

The guard was full of hope for the future of the Bacchus family, thinking that this marriage alliance would bring a fortune and pave the way for the family’s revival.

‘How naive. Does he really believe that Quadrak and Ed don’t see through his schemes?’

Naban, on the other hand, scoffed at the foolishness of his family, who could wield a sword but understood nothing of the world.

Most likely, this engagement was simply bait.

A cleverly designed trap to swallow the entire Bacchus family whole.

Once they took the bait, by the time they realized the truth, it would be too late, and they’d already be at Quadrak’s—or rather, Ed Troyban’s—mercy.

After all, Ed Troyban himself had recommended this marriage alliance to the Bacchus family.

It might have seemed like a favor on the surface, but Naban knew all too well about Ed’s ambitions.

Most of the family’s assets were already tied up in debts owed to Ed Troyban’s various front organizations.

Many members of the household had already been won over by him, though only the family’s direct descendants remained oblivious.

Naban had long realized all of this and kept it to himself.

‘No point in saying anything, is there?’

With less than five years to live, he found the idea of watching the family burn rather amusing.

‘To think they’re pushing me to marry at the tender age of fifteen. Utterly insane.’

He chuckled with a twisted grin.

Just then—

"The master has asked you to come inside. Please follow me."

The chief steward had arrived, bowing his head.

Naban and his guard silently followed him inside.

---

"A marriage alliance is in progress between the fourth daughter of the Ceres Company and the second son of the Bacchus family."

Clébé’s lips curled into a smirk as he relayed the confidential information from Black Snow.

"Many of the major merchants in the North have sent representatives to attend the celebratory banquet. The city is bustling with activity."

"The Ceres Company intends to swallow the Bacchus family and solidify its control over the Northern Merchants’ Union," Theo noted.

Clébé chuckled in response, impressed by Theo’s quick deduction from a simple piece of information.

Where did he gain such keen insight?

"Exactly. With wealth and power at their disposal, Ed Troyban gains a formidable new weapon."

"And we need to break that weapon," Theo added.

"Indeed," Clébé agreed.

"Sounds challenging."

"You seem more excited than worried."

Theo just smiled in response.

Clébé shook his head with a sigh.

"You’re starting to seem more like a cunning fox yourself."

Theo scratched his cheek, saying nothing.

‘Wasn’t this around the time when the Ceres Company began taking over the Bacchus family?’

Theo knew the history surrounding these events quite well.

The Ceres Company, transformed into a "Sword Clan," would go on to play a crucial role in Ed and Axion’s rebellion.

Having absorbed the Bacchus family and secured the wealth of the Northern Merchants’ Union, the Ceres Company was a formidable force.

‘If we can prevent that now, it’s like cutting off Ed Troyban’s left arm.’

Theo thought this unexpected opportunity couldn’t have come at a better time.

‘Perhaps I might even get a chance to meet “the Short-Lived Ghost Sword.”’

The Short-Lived Ghost Sword—a moniker given to Naban Bacchus, who would become famous as the Ceres Company’s son-in-law.

Theo remembered Naban well for his impressive accomplishments.

Because of him, the leader of the Storm Sword Unit was killed, and numerous forces suffered heavy losses.

But Naban’s congenital illness led to his untimely death shortly afterward.

The head of the Ceres Company, Quadrak, had reportedly lamented before his death, "If only my son-in-law had lived half a year longer..."

‘Maybe I can bring him over to my side.’

As a sharp glint appeared in Theo’s eyes, the city where the Ceres Company’s headquarters was located came into view.

Just as Clébé had described, the area in front of the main headquarters was bustling with people.

Numerous carts, wagons, and workers with large bundles on their shoulders filled the streets.

The sheer number of flags flying above the crowd was staggering.

The Northern Merchants’ Union.

An alliance of merchants and trade companies centered around the Ceres Company in the North.

Initially, it had been a simple social gathering for exchanging information but had gradually evolved into a profit-driven collective.

An alliance powerful enough to draw Ragnar’s attention.

"They certainly seem determined to flaunt their power," Hazel muttered with a look of disdain.

Clébé nodded.

"None of their prestige or wealth would be possible without Ragnar’s protection. Yet, they seem oblivious to that."

"When people succeed, they tend to see it as their own doing rather than attributing it to fortune," Theo added with a smirk.

Clébé chuckled, agreeing with Theo’s observation.

"Alright, everyone, descend!"

At Clébé’s command, Theo, Evelyn, and Hazel all leaped down to the ground.

“H-Huh?”

“What is that?”

“Something’s falling from the sky!”

“Is that… are those people? Why are they heading this way?!”

“Run! Get out of the way!”

The people queuing in front of the headquarters looked up, only to scatter in panic as they saw figures dropping from above.

*Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!*

Amid the crowd’s confusion, Theo and his team landed with a resounding crash.

*Clang! Clang! Clang!*

"Who are you?!"

"State your purpose!"

The guards and mercenaries surrounding the headquarters immediately drew their swords, aiming them at the newcomers.

"Theo," Clébé called out.

“Yes, sir!” Theo responded, pulling a standard from his cloak as Clébé had instructed earlier.

The lock on the staff disengaged, extending well above Theo’s height as the wind unfurled a banner that flapped vigorously.

*Whoosh!*

A dragon with nine heads, gripping a sword in its mouth.

The symbol of Ragnar.

“That… that’s…!”

“R-Ragnar! Why is Ragnar suddenly here?”

Ragnar!

While Ragnar was a figure of respect, to the northerners, it was as if the Grim Reaper himself had arrived.

The merchants’ faces turned pale in fear.

Theo’s grip tightened around the banner pole.

The banner was a symbol of the great family’s authority.

Entrusting it to Theo indicated just how much faith Clébé and the others placed in him.

From beneath the banner, Clébé’s voice

 rang out like a lion’s roar.

"From this moment on, Ragnar is conducting official business! Anyone who obstructs, resists, or interferes will be deemed to have challenged Ragnar’s authority and will be executed immediately—!"

**“Executed… Executed… Executed…”**

Her voice echoed across the area, resonating powerfully.

Intimidated by the proclamation, the merchants staggered backward.

The chief steward of the Ceres Company, who had been greeting guests at the main entrance, rushed forward, bowing deeply, his face pale with terror.

"W-What brings a great family to s-such a humble place…!"

Clébé looked down at him coldly.

"Are you the head of the Ceres Company?"

"N-No! I-I’m just the chief steward…!"

"A mere servant daring to confront an envoy of the family head? Has the Ceres Company grown this arrogant?"

“...!”

The steward’s face turned so pale it looked like he might faint.

*When the dragon of the North moves, the land around it burns.*

This was a well-known saying among all northerners.

It was a warning not to provoke Ragnar.

Especially when it came to official business under the family head’s orders!

"I understand how the Ceres Company views the great family. I must speak directly with your master. Clear the way."

"P-Please, just a moment—!"

As Clébé moved forward, the steward tried to stop him.

*Slash!*

*Splash!*

But before he could finish, Hazel stepped forward, swiftly beheading the steward.

Blood sprayed across the ground.

"We warned you clearly that anyone obstructing Ragnar’s business would be executed on the spot."

"…!"

"…!"

"…!"

No one had expected such ruthless action. The spectators were too terrified to even think about approaching.

The guards and mercenaries of the Ceres Company were equally paralyzed.

Clébé issued a command.

"Open the gate."

"Yes, ma’am!"

"Yes, ma’am!"

"Yes, ma’am!"

Evelyn and Hazel leapt forward, destroying the main gate and the surrounding wall in one swift motion.

*Boom!*

Above them, the banner held by Theo fluttered proudly.

Ragnar had arrived.