TWO WEEKS AGO,

Gareth flinched the moment he felt those dark eyes on him.

Even before turning around.

It was instinct—the kind burned into prey animals when a predator locks onto them. His body moved before his brain caught up, dropping to one knee, then both, forehead nearly kissing the dirt path outside the manor.

"Young Lord Viktor!" The words tumbled out in a rush. "I-I've done as you asked!"

Viktor stood a few paces away, arms crossed, his transformed physique casting a long shadow in the late afternoon sun. Gone was the fat—replaced by lean muscle that moved beneath his shirt with predatory grace.

He didn't speak immediately. Just stared.

Gareth's throat worked. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool breeze.

"The flower," Gareth continued, words tripping over themselves. "The dried one you gave me—I placed it near your father's room. Just like you said. Near the hearth where the smoke would carry it. His... his state looked dangerous, Young Lord. He was groaning when I snuck in, but—" He swallowed hard. "—I used Lady Elena's name. Since all the servants were busy preparing her carriage for the journey, no one questioned me."

Viktor's expression didn't change.

Gareth felt his bladder threaten to betray him.

"You did well."

The words were quiet. Measured.

Gareth's head snapped up, relief flooding his features. "Th-thank you, Young Lord! I—"

"So," Viktor interrupted, taking a step closer. He tilted his head, dark eyes gleaming with something that wasn't quite curiosity. More like... amusement? "Elena went to the academy, then?"

Gareth blinked. His mouth opened. Closed.

'How...?'

"How do you know that?" The question slipped out before he could stop it.

A slow grin spread across Viktor's face—the kind that made smart people shut up and stupid people keep talking.

"Nothing."

Before Gareth could process that non-answer, movement caught his eye.

Flutter—

A bird descended from the sky, wings beating in smooth rhythm. It was small—some kind of messenger sparrow with brown and gray plumage. The bird landed on Viktor's outstretched arm with practiced ease, like this was routine.

Gareth stared.

'Animals don't fear him?'

It was bizarre. Everything about Viktor screamed danger. His presence alone made Gareth's survival instincts scream to run. Yet this bird perched on his forearm, chirping contentedly, tilting its head as Viktor reached for something on its leg.

A small cylindrical container. Leather, sealed with wax.

Viktor worked it open with one hand, the bird hopping to his shoulder to make room. He pulled out a tiny scroll, unrolled it, scanned the contents with those unreadable black eyes—

And his grin widened.

'What the hell is he smiling about?'

Viktor produced a quill from somewhere, simply using his craftsmanship ability, which allowed him to make something from nothing.

It was the same ability he had used in that water passage to convert the tree root into the mask.

Converting a small piece of cloth from his sword into a letter wasn't hard.

And funny enough, he didn't even have to write; he could just produce the engraving out of the color of his clothes, created there by thought.

To be honest, for all the power he had and those abilities, he was using them for minor tasks. There had been no resources or motivation for him to use them to the fullest until now.

Though now it seems he have one.

Gareth hadn't seen him carrying writing supplies.

Then he rolled it back up, stuffed it into the container, and reattached it to the bird's leg.

"Go."

The bird took flight immediately, soaring into the sky with powerful wingbeats. Within seconds, it was a speck on the horizon, heading... north? Toward the redwood territory direction.

Viktor watched it go, that predatory smile still playing on his lips.

Gareth's mind raced.

'He's... been communicating with someone. His father? The Count?'

The pieces clicked into place with horrifying clarity.

Viktor had known.

Known about the poison plot.

The dried flower Gareth had placed wasn't some random herb—it was an antidote. Or at least something to counteract whatever poison Elena's people had slipped into the Count's food and might keep feeding him for a few days.

'He's been one step ahead this entire time.'

"Young Lord..." Gareth's voice came out hoarse. "You... you already knew about the poisoning, didn't you?"

Viktor glanced at him.

That smile shifted into something colder.

"For a pig, you've got some brains."

Three days ago, Viktor had written the letter::

Simple. Direct. To the point.

{{ Father,

I hope you would have woken up for a moment from deep sleep, don't go dance around the mansion as in one simple word—you are poisioned.

I've awakened an ability which allows me to see the future, which is why I chose banishment even though it was Elena who framed me—yeah, I could have framed her back but there are more pressing matters to it—I will tell you that slowly after one and a half weeks maybe.

The Hartfield family is the one poisoning and will keep poisoning your food—from this you already know how secure that mansion is?

So from now on, you just need to eat it. Don't act suspicious. Don't refuse the meal. Eat everything they serve you because old man, your foolish elders got sold away and nearly whole mansion is soon going to show its true colors.

I know I sound rash, but meh, I am very happy here.

About what next after eating poison, I have sent you something that will keep you alive though given letter distance, you might have to sleep for soemtime. When you woke up, check for a dried flower—place it near your hearth. Make sure to keep fire and smoke on. The smoke will counteract the poison's effects.

Do exactly as I say to pull out all the rats and also, call the Ktorian family—I saw them through my abilities, so I am the duke's grandson, huh?—tell them to instantly offer Elena Hartfield a seat to academy.

Whatever, wait for my next message since that message would be unbelievable. I don't care if you believe me since once people from the Ktorian's see that, they will know.

So make sure to drop your ego and call those useless morons who can't even save my mother.

I'll handle the rest.

- Viktor }}

He'd sent it via the Beast Tamer ability he'd gained from Mira—using the local bird population as unwitting couriers.

The hundred-times multiplier made it absurdly easy.

Every sparrow, crow, and pigeon within miles became his personal messenger service.

Since he can literally control them and talk to them, rather than just using them as simple animals, they would deliver this message directly to his father, no one else.

The only thing he hoped was that he wasn't too late and that his father might be in the early stages before falling into a vegetative state, until Gareth arrives and hands over that flower.

His father had replied the next day.

Just three words:

I trust... you.

Viktor had to admit—he'd been surprised.

Count Redwood wasn't known for blind faith. He was stubborn man. Pragmatic. Skeptical. The kind of person who needed proof before committing.

But he'd done it.

Eaten the poisoned food.

Followed Viktor's instructions to the letter.

'Commendable', Viktor thought, watching the bird disappear into the distance.' The old man's got balls after all.'

[ If your father wouldn't have balls then who else, Host? ]

"...you punk." Viktor felt his mouth twitch as he just breathed, considering he also needed to use his maternal family.

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