The room slowly returned to silence.
Not true silence—
But the kind born after tension had already passed.
Beyond the closed door, faint footsteps echoed through the mansion corridors before gradually fading into the distance. The guards had obeyed Landon's explanation without question. Or perhaps—
They had simply learned not to ask unnecessary things.
The damaged room remained illuminated only by moonlight and a single lantern hanging near the far wall. Its dim orange glow swayed gently, casting restless shadows across fractured wood and steel-marked stone.
The scent of battle still lingered faintly in the air.
Metal.
Dust.
Sweat.
And beneath it—
The quiet restraint of two men who understood violence too well.
Landon stood beside the door for a moment after locking it.
His posture remained straight, though the earlier clash had left subtle signs across his body. His breathing was controlled, yet slightly heavier than before. A faint cut traced the edge of his jaw where Kel's blade had nearly reached deeper.
He did not wipe the blood away immediately.
Instead—
He turned.
And faced Kel fully.
Kel stood near the window now, partially veiled in silver moonlight. The city beyond stretched endlessly into the dark, lanterns flickering like scattered embers beneath the night sky.
His black coat moved slightly as wind entered through the half-open window. Calm. Unshaken.
As if the intense fight moments ago had never happened.
And yet—
Landon understood better than anyone.
Kel had held back.
Severely.
That realization alone made his chest tighten faintly.
"My lord…"
Landon spoke carefully.
"…please."
He gestured toward the table near the center of the room.
Kel walked over without reply.
Both men sat across from one another.
A small lantern rested between them, its weak flame illuminating only fragments of their expressions.
Landon's face carried respect.
But also caution.
Kel's—
As always—
Remained unreadable.
For a few seconds, neither spoke.
The atmosphere was not uncomfortable.
Merely heavy.
Like two strategists silently calculating the next move of a game already in motion.
Then—
Kel finally broke the silence.
"How."
A single word.
Calm.
But enough.
Landon immediately understood the question.
"How did you rise to Viscount within a year?"
Kel's gaze remained fixed on him.
Steady.
Sharp.
Not suspicious—
But evaluating.
Landon lowered his eyes briefly.
Gathering his thoughts.
Then he began.
"My lord… after you sent me to the South to establish your presence before your arrival…"
His voice was steady, respectful.
"…I departed from Vanhart Territory immediately after receiving your orders."
A faint memory surfaced in his eyes.
Not nostalgic.
Focused.
"At first…"
He exhaled softly.
"…the South was worse than I expected."
The lantern flickered.
Shadows shifted along the walls.
"The North hides its corruption beneath politics."
A brief pause.
"…the South doesn't bother hiding it."
Kel listened silently.
"When I first arrived…"
Landon continued.
"…I spent nearly an entire month moving through wilderness regions."
His posture straightened slightly as he spoke.
Not proudly.
But factually.
"The forests here are dense enough to swallow roads whole. Villages disappear overnight. Monsters roam close enough to settlements that people treat death as ordinary."
His expression darkened faintly.
"…and landlords."
A pause.
"…were worse than the monsters."
Kel's fingers rested calmly against the table.
Motionless.
Listening.
"I understood quickly that building influence through status alone would be impossible."
Landon leaned slightly forward.
"So I began with trade."
Kel's eyes narrowed faintly.
Interested.
"The South's fertile lands produce enormous amounts of grain, medicinal herbs, beast materials, and livestock. But most local nobles are incompetent or greedy enough to strangle their own territories."
A faint trace of disdain appeared briefly in Landon's voice.
"…which creates opportunity."
Kel remained silent.
Allowing him to continue.
"I started small."
Landon's tone steadied again.
"Transport contracts. Resource exchanges. Supplying isolated villages."
A faint smile touched his lips briefly.
"…nothing worthy of attention."
Then—
"That was intentional."
The lantern flame crackled softly.
"But simple trade alone was too slow."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"And the South rewards strength faster than honesty."
A pause.
"So…"
"I joined a mercenary group."
Kel's expression remained unchanged.
Yet Landon could feel the subtle pressure of his attention deepen.
"At first, it was merely to survive."
Landon continued.
"But eventually I noticed something."
His fingers tapped lightly against the table.
Measured.
Controlled.
"The South is filled with bounty contracts."
A brief silence.
"…especially against landlords."
Kel's eyes lifted slightly.
"Corrupt nobles exploit villages until rebellion forms naturally. Merchants hire killers. Rival houses fund assassinations."
Landon's voice remained calm despite the brutality of his words.
"In this land…"
He paused.
"…death is simply another transaction."
Outside, distant thunder rumbled faintly beyond the mountains.
The sound lingered.
Low.
Ancient.
"So I adapted."
Landon's gaze hardened slightly.
"I began taking contracts."
Kel spoke for the first time since the explanation began.
"…Personally?"
Landon nodded immediately.
"Yes."
A faint scar near his wrist caught the lantern light as he shifted.
"At first, only small targets."
Then—
"Eventually…"
His eyes darkened.
"…larger ones."
Kel observed him carefully.
Not just the words.
But the body language.
The restraint.
The precision.
Landon was no longer merely a knight.
The South had sharpened him.
"I built a reputation."
Landon continued.
"Efficient. Ruthless. Reliable."
A brief pause.
"…necessary qualities here."
Sairen's voice echoed softly within Kel's mind.
"…He learned quickly."
Her tone carried faint approval.
Kel responded internally.
"Survival forced him to."
Sairen remained quiet for a moment before adding:
"…No."
A pause.
"…He changed because he wanted results."
Kel did not deny it.
Because she was correct.
Landon continued speaking, unaware of the silent exchange occurring through the soul-link.
"My turning point came six months ago."
The atmosphere shifted subtly.
Even his posture straightened more carefully now.
"One of the Three Southern Dukes requested additional mercenary protection forces."
Kel's gaze sharpened slightly.
Not visibly.
But enough.
"Their youngest daughter was being targeted repeatedly."
Landon's expression remained calm.
"Kidnapping attempts. Poisoning. Assassins."
A brief pause.
"…political enemies."
Kel leaned back slightly.
Still listening.
"Our mercenary unit was assigned temporary protection detail."
Landon's eyes lowered momentarily, recalling it.
"The attacks became more aggressive than expected."
A faint scar beneath his collarbone pulsed painfully in memory.
"One night…"
He exhaled quietly.
"…they breached the outer defenses."
The lantern flame flickered violently for a brief second.
"I fought directly."
His voice lowered slightly.
"Close-range combat."
A pause.
"…I was injured protecting her."
Kel's expression remained still.
But internally—
He had already calculated the rest.
Landon noticed.
And gave a faint, almost embarrassed smile.
"…It seems predictable when spoken aloud."
Kel finally responded.
"People are easiest to influence…"
A slight pause.
"…after fear."
Landon nodded immediately.
"Yes."
"The Duke's daughter became attached afterward."
His tone remained professional despite the topic.
"Trust turned into affection."
Then—
"I leveraged it."
No shame.
No hesitation.
Only honesty.
Sairen spoke quietly within Kel's mind again.
"…You chose an honest subordinate."
Kel's response came calmly.
"A useful trait."
Landon continued.
"Eventually, the Duke himself took interest in me."
A subtle shift entered his expression now.
Not pride.
But awareness.
"I demonstrated tactical suggestions regarding trade routes, territorial influence, and suppression methods against rival factions."
He paused briefly.
"…they worked."
Kel's gaze remained fixed on him.
"And through the Duke's faction…"
Landon straightened fully.
"…I was granted noble status."
A faint silence followed.
Then—
"…Viscount."
The title lingered quietly within the room.
Heavy.
Earned.
Outside, rain finally began to fall.
Soft at first.
Then steadily.
Droplets struck the mansion windows like distant whispers.
Kel remained silent for several moments.
Watching him.
Measuring him.
Landon did not avoid his gaze.
But beneath his composed posture—
There was tension.
Not fear.
But anticipation.
As though waiting for judgment.
Then—
Kel spoke.
Quietly.
"You did well."
Landon froze slightly.
Just slightly.
Because praise—
From Kel—
Was rare.
"…Thank you, my lord."
His voice lowered instinctively.
Respect deepening naturally.
Kel's gaze shifted toward the rain-covered window.
The Southern city stretched endlessly beneath the storm.
Chaotic.
Violent.
Ambitious.
And now—
He had a foothold within it.
Not borrowed.
Not temporary.
But rooted.
Sairen's voice echoed softly one last time.
"…The South has already begun moving around you."
Kel's eyes narrowed faintly.
Watching the rain descend across the city like dark threads woven into fate itself.
Then—
He answered silently.
"Good."