In the past life, after the separation of the Eldoria Kingdom, naturally the territories like Redwood County—which was huge with a leader far too weak to handle everything, holding poisonous snakes in his backyard who had already sold the county—it wouldn't have been surprising for such a Redwood territory to be destroyed.

But funny enough, it still survived that day. And after his father's death, Viktor came to know that the reason Redwood Territory was surviving until now was because of the Dukes—Ktorian Duchy.

He felt so much annoyance due to his father's stupidity because even that duchy had been surrounded and ganged up on since, due to their sheer strength, all three duchies among the four strongest within Eldoria targeted them, destroying the Ktorian family as a whole.

If Viktor were to really have control over those brainless monsters holding physical power but not the brains to tackle the other three, he would have never fallen into the hands of Emperor Leo and his so-called heroine gang.

And the reason he had mentioned that 'mother's tragedy anger tantrum' in the letter about the Ktorian family was that he knew someone would definitely read that two weeks later and they would... fall for his trap.

'Tch, I just hope someone with a dumb brain comes from Ktorians that day or else...'

Viktor's expression remained neutral, but his mind was elsewhere, sifting through memories and calculations.

In his past life, Elena hadn't been able to pull this scheme off. She'd been banished from Redwood County early, cutting off her father's direct influence before any poisoning plot could take root.

But this time was different.

Viktor knew the Hartfields too well. Trash like them didn't suddenly stop being trash just because they achieved their goal.

Baron Hartfield would absolutely try something underhanded—especially with his daughter positioned close to the Count's household.

The poison would be slow-acting, Viktor had reasoned. Nothing dramatic. Nothing that would cause immediate uproar or suspicion. Just a gradual decline.

A "natural" weakening that could be attributed to age or illness.

Smart.

But Viktor was smarter.

He'd already crafted a universal—at least up to what was possible from his knowledge—antidote plant using his Herb Mastery ability—a potent hybrid mixing all of his garden's herbs.

Yeah, this is the reason why he had asked for the villagers to bring more herbs from the village.

He'd sent dried flowers of that plant to be placed in his father's room, ensuring the edited pollen would constantly circulate in the air, neutralizing the poison's effects passively.

It was elegant. Simple. Effective.

With Elena shipped off to the academy and his father protected, Viktor had bought himself time. Time to focus on securing his position here. Time to prepare for the next moves.

And the next moves were Baron Hartfield's head and preparation to farm powers here in this place from explorers or hunters.

Viktor didn't want to play small games. Not with Elena. Not with any of the women who'd wronged him in his previous life—though, technically, most hadn't betrayed him since he'd barely known them back then.

But Elena?

Elena was special.

She'd get a gift. Two gifts, actually.

First: her father's head, delivered on a silver platter.

Second: a brother or a sister, maybe both.

He tilted his head up.

"Aunt was very fond of me..." he mused silently. 'Will she fall easily?'

He chuckled softly, shaking his head at the absurdity of his own scheming.

The image of a certain woman flickered through his thoughts before he dismissed it, turning his gaze toward the horizon.

If he wanted to gift Elena her first gift, he needed to eliminate Baron Hartfield first.

His mind shifted gears, calculating timelines and contingencies.

'Will Father contact the Ktorian family?'

It was a variable even though in the letter he had confirmed it.

He was doubtful of that senile man.

The Ktorians—his mother's side—were powerful. Influential. If summoned from the capital, they could wipe out the Hartfield scum and secure Redwood territory with brutal efficiency.

But they were far away.

Two weeks, Viktor estimated grimly. At least two weeks for them to travel from the capital.

That meant his father needed to hold out on his own until reinforcements arrived.

Viktor had written explicit instructions in his letter expecting a two-week delay.

Once Baron Hartfield assumed temporary control during the Count's supposed "illness," every rat and traitor hiding in Redwood territory would lift their heads. They'd think they were safe. They'd reveal themselves.

And that's when the Ktorian family would descend like wolves on sheep, slaughtering every last one.

So all Viktor had to do was wait. Two more weeks to set the stage.

Elena was already out of the picture—sent to the academy under the guise of education. Her father would be dealt with within the next week.

That would leave Elena's mother alone, unsupported, vulnerable.

'Perfect.'

[Host, Do you really want to fuck a woman after killing her husband? Isn't this crime?]

Viktor's eye twitched. His jaw clenched.

'Shut up', he thought venomously, swiping the system window away like an annoying insect.

'Those two punks were the only real bastards in the Hartfield family, I will help Aunt by giving her strong support to seat on.'

He had zero qualms about killing his morality if it meant achieving his goals.

Fuck morality.

If the system didn't like it, the system could go fuck itself.

He turned back toward Gareth, who was still kneeling on the ground, looking utterly confused and terrified.

Viktor reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a small pill—round, greenish, with a faint herbal smell. Without ceremony, he tossed it.

Gareth scrambled, catching it clumsily against his chest. His eyes went wide as he stared at the pill like it was a precious gem.

"Thank you! Thank you, my lord!" He shoved the pill into his mouth immediately, swallowing it dry. His throat bobbed as he gagged slightly, but he forced it down.

Viktor watched him with faint amusement, then asked, "How much money do you have on you?"

Gareth blinked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I... I don't understand, my lord. What do you mean?"

Viktor's expression didn't change. "Go to the village. Call every able-bodied man you can find. Tell them they'll be paid for labor. And use your carriage to haul back the herbs the villagers have been gathering for me."

Gareth's confusion deepened, his brow furrowing. "Herbs...? What herbs?"

Viktor sighed, the sound carrying just a hint of impatience. "I told the villagers I'd buy some herbs from them—per kilo. They've been gathering them. Instead of making them carry everything by hand like idiots, you're going to load it all into your carriage. And while you're at it, hire laborers. I need manpower."

"For... what, my lord?"

"Construction," Viktor said flatly. "I'm building a dog house for you fucker? Want to know more."

The words hung in the air.

"...." Gareth nodded slowly, still processing, but wisely didn't ask further questions. "Yes, my lord. I'll keep my mouth shut."

Viktor turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Gareth to scramble to his feet and dust off his pants and curse Viktor... of course not out loud.

'I will kill you one day, you bastard!'

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