After the heads of the trade families returned to their physical bodies, they immediately began putting their plans into motion. Their first task was to check their storage and determine how many mana stones they currently possessed, since they needed to know how much they could contribute towards creating their new mana veins. Once they had confirmed their available resources, they contacted their elders and began discussing which type of mana vein would best suit their respective families. It took approximately three hours for the families to reach their initial decisions, after which orders were sent out to purchase every available mana stone of the chosen attributes on the market.
The speed of their response reflected just how seriously the patriarchs and matriarchs regarded the opportunity Gaia had presented to them. Genuine mana veins were not simply another resource that could provide a temporary advantage, but an investment that might influence their families' fortunes for thousands of years. Naturally, none of the leaders wanted to waste time while their competitors were preparing to obtain the same advantage. Every day spent hesitating was another day in which someone else might secure the mana stones they needed, establish a mana vein first, and begin benefiting from the results while their own families remained stuck making plans.
Meanwhile, Fabian Bingen began contacting the Great Houses to discuss the opportunity that the trade families had received. He explained the nature of their reward, the knowledge contained in the tome, and the assistance Gaia had promised to provide when creating the necessary formations. In return for sharing this knowledge, the trade families wanted the Great Houses to help accelerate the mining of mana stones, ensuring that the resources required to establish their mana veins would become available as quickly as possible. It was a straightforward proposal, but one that offered considerable advantages to everyone involved, provided that the parties acted quickly enough to take advantage of it.
None of the heads of the Great Houses were fools, and they recognised the value of Fabian's proposal almost immediately. The arrangement offered them an excellent opportunity to make money while obtaining an early advantage over their competitors, particularly if they could secure their mana stones before the rest of the world understood what was happening. They also understood that there was little benefit in delaying their decision merely to negotiate slightly better terms, since the real prize was the opportunity to establish their mana veins ahead of other powerful organisations. Consequently, they agreed to Fabian's proposal without wasting much time, already considering how they could accelerate production and begin preparing for the next stage of their development.
The Great Houses understood that the sooner they acquired the required mana stones and established their mana veins, the sooner they could begin profiting from their investment. At the same time, obtaining their own veins would help reduce the number of questions they needed to answer about their activities and intentions. They could keep their preparations relatively quiet while using their new resources to strengthen their families, rather than openly announcing the reasons behind every purchase they made. If they moved quickly enough, they would have a significant head start before their rivals even realised what the trade families had been given.
For that reason, the heads of the Great Houses deliberately avoided discussing mana veins with their ordinary elders. They did not want the entire family leadership to become curious about why they suddenly needed enormous quantities of mana stones, nor did they want unnecessary questions slowing down the preparations. Instead, they approached the grand elders of previous generations, whose authority extended over the most important decisions affecting their families. With the grand elders' support, the patriarchs could issue orders and ensure that their plans were carried out without allowing individual family members to interfere or demand explanations that would expose the purpose of their actions.
This approach made sense within the established structure of the Great Houses. Under normal circumstances, the patriarchs and ordinary elders were more than capable of managing the daily affairs of their families, leaving the grand elders to intervene only when a matter required their authority or experience. Most family members had no desire to disobey the grand elders, since these senior figures were responsible for overseeing the highest-level decisions and safeguarding their families' long-term interests. By involving them directly, the patriarchs could ensure that the preparations proceeded without internal resistance, while keeping the true significance of the mana stones hidden from those who did not need to know.
As a result, the officials currently responsible for managing the mana stone mine were about to receive a rude awakening. They had unknowingly placed themselves in the path of some of the most powerful families on the continent, and those families were not inclined to tolerate unnecessary interference when their future was at stake. The Great Houses were also under no illusion that the officials had not attempted to interfere with the road built by the Sonnenberg family. They had been following the mine's development from the beginning, and they had already seen the route the Sonnenbergs constructed when the mine first opened.
At the time, however, the mine had not attracted much interest from the Great Houses. Although its location was known, mana stones had not yet become a resource with the importance they possessed now, and there had been little reason for the families to compete over its management. The mine was undoubtedly valuable land, but its potential had not yet become clear enough to justify a dispute over who would control it. Rather than risk creating unnecessary friction with one another over a resource that none of them urgently needed, the Great Houses had allowed the government to handle the matter as it saw fit.
That decision had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, especially since the families had plenty of other concerns to occupy their attention. They had no particular desire to interfere with the government's responsibilities or involve themselves in a dispute over a mine whose future value remained uncertain. Now, however, the situation had changed dramatically, and the same resource they had previously considered unimportant had become essential to their plans. The officials who had been given responsibility for its operation were therefore no longer dealing with an obscure government project, but with a resource that could influence the future of the most powerful families in the region.
As for the people who had looked at the Sonnenberg road and concluded that it needed to be improved, the Great Houses considered their actions an entirely different matter. If those officials had understood the history of the Sonnenberg family, they would never have considered altering the route without first seeking the family's advice. The Great Houses had hired the Sonnenbergs many times throughout their history to restore or improve their hunting forests, and the results had consistently justified the trust placed in them. Whenever the Sonnenbergs were given responsibility for such work, the forests they managed eventually became healthy, well-maintained environments filled with abundant prey.
The families had not forgotten those experiences, and neither had they dismissed the expertise that had made the Sonnenbergs so valuable in the first place. When the Sonnenbergs claimed that a particular route was the best way through a dangerous forest, there was usually a very good reason behind their recommendation. The Great Houses understood that the family possessed practical knowledge that could not simply be replaced by a government official examining a map or calculating the shortest possible distance between two points. If the Sonnenbergs had deliberately constructed a road that was five times longer than a direct route, then the sensible response was to ask why they had done so rather than assume that they had made a mistake.
Their history with the Sonnenbergs had been complicated, particularly after the clash between the families, but that did not erase the respect they had earned through their work. A disagreement could damage relationships and create lasting resentment, yet it did not automatically make an expert incompetent. If anything, the Great Houses considered the Sonnenbergs' continued professionalism even more impressive because the family had demonstrated that its expertise remained valuable regardless of personal conflicts. None of the Great Houses believed that the trade families had survived for so long simply by clinging to outdated traditions and refusing to change.
Quite the opposite was true, as the Great Houses knew that the trade families had adapted alongside technological progress. They had not survived for generations by blindly preserving every old custom or insisting that the methods of their ancestors were always superior. Instead, they had learned to recognise which innovations were useful, incorporate them into their own practices, and discard anything that offered little value. Their traditions had helped preserve valuable knowledge, but their willingness to evolve had allowed them to remain relevant as the world changed around them. That combination of experience and adaptability was precisely why the Great Houses continued to take the trade families seriously, even when their relationships were strained.
By the evening, the Great Houses had received the latest report concerning the mana stone mine, and the contents did little to improve their moods. As they examined the situation, they discovered that the person currently overseeing the operation was an incompetent bureaucrat who had apparently bribed his way into the position. His reasons for seeking the appointment were not particularly complicated, since the mine offered him opportunities to skim money from its operations while enjoying the privileges of an influential government post. However, the arrival of the report revealed that his ambitions extended beyond simply exploiting the mine for personal gain.
The bureaucrat had apparently examined the existing road and decided that shortening it would be an excellent way to improve his résumé. In his mind, the longer route constructed by the Sonnenbergs represented an obvious inefficiency, and replacing it with a shorter road would allow him to claim credit for reducing transportation costs and improving the mine's productivity. He was so pleased with his own idea that he even considered seeking out the person responsible for the original road and thanking him personally. He imagined that the decision would make him look competent and forward-thinking, unaware that the families whose interests depended on the mine would view his actions in an entirely different light.
Little did the bureaucrat realise that his decision had effectively signed the death warrant for his family and every protective umbrella that might otherwise have shielded him. By interfering with the road, he had placed himself directly in opposition to the interests of the Great Houses, which were now determined to ensure that the mine could provide the mana stones they needed. The families had no intention of allowing an official's ambition to jeopardise a resource that had suddenly become vital to their long-term plans. They also understood that confronting him openly would create unnecessary complications, especially if the government began asking why powerful families were suddenly interested in a mine that had previously attracted so little attention.
Fortunately for the Great Houses, they had a convenient way to conceal their real intentions. They decided to hide their movements beneath a new anti-corruption campaign, using the bureaucrat's questionable appointment and personal dealings as an opportunity to stir up the political waters within the Union. A campaign against corruption would attract public support, provide a legitimate reason to investigate the mine's management, and give the families a way to exert pressure without openly revealing their interest in mana veins. By presenting their actions as part of a broader effort to eliminate corrupt officials, they could disguise their true objectives behind a cause that few people would dare to oppose publicly.
The strategy also offered them considerable control over how the public would interpret the events that followed. Once the campaign had run its course, they could direct public attention towards the mine overseer and place the blame for the entire affair on his shoulders. They would portray him as one of the parasites who had exploited the government for personal gain, insisting that their intervention had been necessary to protect the Union from corruption. If they managed the situation carefully, the public would focus on the bureaucrat's misconduct rather than question why the Great Houses had suddenly become so interested in the mine's operations. Within a year, most people would have forgotten the details of the affair and the political manoeuvring that had accompanied it, which suited the Great Houses perfectly.
As the sun began to rise over the horizon the following morning, a disgruntled Marshal Herman sat behind his desk in the new military headquarters. The building was still under construction, and various parts of the facility had yet to be completed, but that did not prevent him from carrying out his duties. Documents and reports had already begun accumulating on his desk, providing him with updates about the latest developments throughout the different branches of government. As he read through them, his expression grew increasingly irritated, because he could see the signs of another political disturbance taking shape before most people had even realised that anything was wrong.
What are they planning now? To stir things up so badly that we end up with a riot? Herman thought as he continued reading the reports from his subordinates. One of the advantages of serving in the military was that people in positions like his often remained in their posts for many years, allowing them to establish extensive networks of contacts across other government departments. Those connections were particularly useful when something unusual began happening, since people who had spent years working together could warn one another before a problem became public knowledge. Thanks to those relationships, Herman was often informed about political developments well before they reached the stage where he could no longer ignore them.
Given his position, Herman was also accustomed to receiving advance warning when the government intended to undertake a major operation or launch a campaign that might disturb the existing balance of power. He had heard nothing that suggested such a move was being prepared, and none of his contacts had warned him about the kind of activity described in the reports. That absence of information was significant, because it meant the latest developments were unlikely to be part of a coordinated government initiative that had been properly communicated through the usual channels. Herman leaned back slightly in his chair, considering the possibilities and trying to identify who could have enough influence to set such events in motion without his knowledge.
There was only one possibility that made sense to him. Herman had spent enough time dealing with powerful people to recognise that not every important decision originated from an official government office, and he knew that certain groups could move faster than the bureaucracy whenever they had a reason to act. The combination of sudden activity, carefully directed political pressure, and the lack of any warning from his usual contacts narrowed the field considerably. As he looked over the reports once more, his irritation deepened, because he was beginning to suspect that someone had decided to set the entire Union into motion without bothering to inform him.