Dinner was a goddamn feast.
Cream of mushroom soup. Roast beef in red wine reduction. A loaf of white bread still steaming. A slice of Bayena ham, paper thin and salty sweet.
And the wine-
A local red from Viremont.
Elias hadn't tasted actual food since he was sixteen.
Not since the government housing issued nutrient paste with expiration labels that glowed in the dark.
Here?
The food hit like a hug from someone who actually gave a damn.
This world. This insane, medieval, bug-ridden, stat-tracked world...
was already better than reality.
He took his time, chewing slowly, soaking it all in.
Then, halfway through the ham, he opened his panel.
The stats of everyone present popped up.
None of the maids were combatants.
Most were Level 1 to Level 3.
Even the old butler, Ankor, clocked in at Level 7, and he was listed as a [Support Class: Steward].
That made Elias - Level 17, Combat Class: Warrior - a heavy hitter in this mansion.
"Ankor," he said, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "A question."
The old man approached immediately. "Yes, my lord?"
"What's our standing with House Belmont?"
Ankor hesitated. "Sir… Your father and Viscount Belmont never maintained formal relations."
Elias raised a brow. The man looked uncomfortable.
"I see," Elias said. "And what's our general status in the city?"
That, the butler could answer.
"House Merrick is one of the Seven Hereditary Noble Lines of Viremont," he said. "A family built on martial tradition, known for your swordsmanship - the Merrick Style. Your nobility was not granted. It was earned. Passed down through blood and blade."
"In contrast," he continued, "House Belmont was granted its rank due to Viscount Belmont's position as Royal Treasurer. A title of coin, not conquest."
Elias leaned back, lips twitching.
So I'm a blood noble, and she's from a merchant-bureaucrat's family.
No wonder the original 'Elias' was obsessed with her. She was the only one higher than him - in rank, not blood.
"What about the others?" he asked. "The other noble houses?"
Ankor folded his hands. "There are seven, aside from the Duke. But House Connor leads the rest. The Count's daughter, Lady Elira, was once considered a match for you."
Elira Connor. Shit. I remember her. She becomes a Resistance General in Expansion 5.
So the city wasn't just backstory. It was the opening map to a whole damn arc.
He tapped his spoon against the bowl.
"So," Elias said quietly. "How many combatants does House Merrick still employ?"
Ankor froze.
"None, sir."
Elias didn't respond.
"We once had three retainers," Ankor explained. "But they left after your father died. Since your succession… you've been the only one left."
A long silence passed.
Of course. That's why Merrick becomes a lone wanderer.
That's why the 'Swordmaster of One Arm' was always seen training by himself in the ruins.
Because there was no one left to train with.
"You said House Connor leads the nobility now?"
"Yes, my lord. After House Viremont was elevated to ducal rank by the Lucien crown, the other six houses began aligning beneath the Connors instead. Merrick… fell out of favor."
"And why didn't my father stop it?"
Ankor's voice turned low. "Your father died defending this city from an undead incursion. The others… did not."
Elias stood slowly.
He walked to the window, staring out over the estate. Cracked flagstones. An overgrown sparring yard. Empty training halls.
One of the Seven Great Houses.
And now, just him.
No trainers. No soldiers. No allies.
Just a single legacy skill tree... and a bar fight in 30 days with a future duke.
"Then we build it back," Elias muttered.
Ankor blinked. "My lord?"
"I'll restore House Merrick."
The butler gave a small, polite bow. "And how do you wish to begin, sir? Should we send for recruits? Host a tourney?"
"No. Not yet." Elias shook his head. "Not until I can win the next fight with one swing."
He turned.
"I need techniques," he said. "Not new people. Passive techniques. Especially ones like the Merrick Breathing Style."
Ankor looked... confused.
"Passive… techniques?"
"You don't know the term," Elias said. "It's fine. Just watch for anything labeled 'breathing method' or 'visualization law'. Techniques that raise attributes permanently, even without combat."
Ankor paled. "My lord… those are rare beyond measure. Priceless, even."
"Find them," Elias said. "Even if you have to buy them with the land under this house."
The old man opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then bowed. "As you command."
Elias walked upstairs.
By the time the moon rose, he had his bag packed, his sword at his hip, and enough dry rations for three days.
He didn't need allies yet.
What he needed-
Was to level the hell up.
Fast.