Back at the estate, the Count's fingers tapped the tabletop absentmindedly.
"So… what do you suggest?" he asked.
"Cut off the flow of magic-stone fragments," Edmund replied bluntly, his voice trembling under the strain of speaking the truth.
"Father, Robb has been in the Black Mist Forest for almost a year. If he had any real talent, it would've shown by now. Continuing to drain the family's fortune on him…"
"He's your blood brother!" the Count suddenly barked, raising his voice. "Have you forgotten how fiercely you defended him when he was younger?"
Edmund's eyes betrayed a flash of conflicting emotion.
Indeed, when Robb was a child, Edmund, his elder brother, had been his shield, protecting him from any trouble. Even when Robb caused a scene drunk at a noble ball, it was Edmund who carried him home and took the blame.
"I remember that, of course," Edmund said quietly. "But now is not the time for sentiment. The livelihoods of hundreds in our household are at stake. We've already sacrificed enough for him… those magic crystal fragments alone…"
He opened the ledger in his hands. "You know as well as I do, in our kingdom a single intact magic crystal could buy a large fortress, fragments are no less valuable. They only form at rare spiritual nexus points, which are virtually non-existent in human lands."
He pointed at the ledger.
"Last month, we spent the equivalent of thousands of gold coins just to gather ten fragments, and what actually reached Robb was six or seven at best."
The Count sat up sharply.
"What do you mean by that?"
"That slippery Hawkins," Edmund said with a cold sneer. "I suspect he's been pocketing part of them, but we lack proof. After all, he's the royal-appointed courier, with powerful backing."
A shadow passed over his expression as silence settled heavily in the study, broken only by the crackling of the fireplace.
Finally, the Count let out a long, resigned sigh: "I understand, perhaps you're right, Edmund. We do need to consider the family's future."
He rose and walked to the window, staring at the parched fields outside: "From next month, no, we may as well make the preparations now, starting the month after next, we'll suspend our financial support for Robb."
As the words left his mouth, the Count's shoulders seemed to sag. He appeared years older, as though the weight of his decision were visible.
Edmund opened his mouth to protest, but urgent knocking interrupted them.
"Count," the butler called from outside, his tone uncharacteristically urgent, "a royal envoy has arrived, he has an urgent message!"
Both the Count and Edmund exchanged wary looks. A royal envoy arriving unannounced usually signaled something serious.
They hurried to the reception hall and saw a man draped in black velvet, his chest bearing the royal sun emblem.
The envoy appeared in his County thirties, with an austere, disciplined presence suggesting a military background.
"Honored Count Reyne," he began, delivering a traditional bow. His voice was deep and assured.
"I am Orlando Wilson, envoy of His Majesty."
After returning the bow, the Count invited him to sit.
"How may I assist you, Lord Wilson?" he asked.
The envoy accepted a cup of tea but didn't drink it.
"Count, I have two matters of import to convey."
He set the cup down formally: "First, concerning your fifth son, Master Robb Reyne."
The Count's eyes flashed with concern.
"Robb? What about him?"
"Reports from the Black Mist Forest indicate that Master Robb has passed the qualifications to advance to Apprentice, formally becoming a First-level Apprentice," Orlando announced.
He added with measured respect: "Even more astonishing, despite initially being classified with only a sixth-tier magic aptitude, he has completed the advancement in under ten months. The Black Mist Order judges his potential at least mid-level."
The news struck the Count and Edmund like a thunderbolt. They stood frozen, grappling with the revelation.
"That… that's impossible!" Edmund exclaimed. "Robb's aptitude is…"
Orlando gave a slight smile. "In the world of wizardry, anything is possible. Rumor is, Robb displayed rare talent in Alchemy. He's now assisting Lady Elena and has gained the attention of the senior apprentice, Lord Hugo."
Both father and son had never met those names but sensed the significance. Pride and relief washed over them.
"Then what is the second matter?" the Count asked when he'd regained some composure.
Orlando's expression grew grave.
"It concerns the courier you entrusted with the magic crystal fragments, Hawkins."
He drew a sealed letter from his coat, stamped with the royal crest: "It has been confirmed that Hawkins embezzled a portion of the fragments meant for your son. By royal decree, he was flayed alive, and his family sold to slavery."
At a signal from Orlando, an attendant brought forward a box, inside was a human head preserved in brine, belonging to the very man.
The sight shocked both the Count and Edmund. They were seasoned veterans of battle, but even they were taken aback, not by the sight itself, but by the swiftness of royal justice.
"More importantly," Orlando continued, "Master Robb, upon learning of this, generously offered to return every fragment taken from him. He requested they be exchanged for equivalent valuables from the Order."
He lifted a second box, a heavy one, and placed it gently on the table: "It contains 20,000 pure gold coins and contracts for two shops in the eastern district of the royal capital. These were exchanged by the Black Mist Order at Master Robb's direction and designated to return to House Reyne."