Trinity of Magic

“I think everyone would feel more at ease if I accepted my reward first. Wouldn’t you agree?”

At Zeke’s words, everyone in the audience and on the stage seemed to sense something. Even Leo felt his grip tighten around the armrest. Something momentous was about to happen.

The crown had long since made its intentions clear by undermining the Hohenheim faction at every opportunity. So far, Zeke had borne it stoically. But now, everything was about to come to a head.

The only question was who would emerge victorious.

The young Merchant Lord or the royal faction.

“...As you wish, Lord Hohenheim,” Myr answered after a moment. “What reward would you like? The tax exemption, like Lord Dorn, or a monetary reward?”

“Though the tax exemption is tempting, I already have my eye on something else,” Zeke said.

“Oh? Then please, speak your mind.”

“I wish to claim Land and Title.”

A thousand people gasped in unison. Even Leo’s jaw nearly dropped. Of all the things he had expected Zeke to say, that had not been among them. Giving up his position as Merchant Lord for a post in Rukia was a ludicrous proposition.

“You... You want—” Myr began, then fell silent. “Lord Hohenheim, you do understand that accepting a position in Rukia would carry military obligations, yes? Obligations that would disqualify you from serving as Merchant Lord.”

“I understand that,” Zeke said easily. “Which is why I do not intend to hold the position myself.”

Myr studied him for a moment before shaking her head. “Though you have the right to appoint a steward, like everyone else, you must understand that such a title cannot be bestowed at will. There are requirements—first and foremost, family ties...”

Her gaze darted toward David and Zelkara in the crowd, both of whom would otherwise have been worthy candidates.

“I am well aware,” Zeke said, unfazed. “But the person I have in mind is certainly qualified.”

Myr frowned. “To my knowledge, no member of your family fits the criteria. Your parents lack magical aptitude, and your sister, though a promising seedling, has not yet had time to develop.”

“They would indeed be unsuitable,” Zeke admitted.

“...Then who?”

“Leo von Hohenheim.”

Every hair on Leo’s body stood on end as ten thousand eyes turned toward him. He had never enjoyed being the center of attention, but this went far beyond that. He felt like a caged mouse beneath a dragon’s gaze.

Thankfully, most of the attention lingered only a moment before returning to his brother and Myr, allowing Leo to breathe again.

But as the pressure faded, Leo finally had time to process what his brother had just said, and he felt even more like he was sitting on pins and needles.

Had... Had his brother just said what he thought he did? Zeke wanted him to be the Lord of the combined Hohenheim estate in Rukia?

“Lord Hohenheim,” Myr said, her displeasure clear, “surely you are aware that your brother has earned merits of his own.”

Zeke raised a brow. “...So?”

Myr paused, clearly struggling to explain why that should matter. Before she could, Zeke continued.

“Surely you are not implying that members of the same family must compete against one another for merit? Otherwise, the country’s future would look grim indeed, with brothers pitted against brothers and fathers against sons...”

His gaze swept over the newly anointed nobles, lingering on the three families from Valour, all of whom had already invested heavily in this venture. Their expressions soured. If their relatives could be barred from serving the family under the pretext of merit, they would certainly reconsider their investments.

“I—” Myr stopped, at a loss for words for the first time.

“Let me ask directly,” Zeke said into the silence. “Is there any rule barring me from nominating my brother?”

Myr remained quiet for a moment before shaking her head. “...Not specifically.”

Zeke clapped his hands, the smile returning to his face. “Excellent. Truly excellent. Then, since my brother is also a meritorious party, we can dispense with the testing. Isn’t that what you said, Lady Sala?”

“That is not—” Myr began, but Zeke cut her off.

“Lady Sala.” His voice was as sharp as a blade. “Surely you have not forgotten your own words...?”

The old woman pressed her lips into a thin line and remained silent.

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Even Leo understood why she was reluctant to accept this arrangement. If she couldn’t test him, she couldn’t disqualify him on the grounds of being too weak. That posed a problem of its own.

Granting Leo as much merit as they had was already a stretch. With his strength only at the level of a Grandmage and no notable force serving him, it was questionable whether he could truly protect a territory of this size. And if he received Zeke’s merits on top of that? They would practically be giving away a large part of their country in exchange for a subpar retainer.

That was why, even after a long time, the old woman still refused to agree, despite having already established a precedent for this exact situation. After all, agreeing now would be as good as approving Leo’s nomination.

Zeke sighed. “Rules are rules, Lady Sala. The moment we bend them, we become little better than beasts...”

Leo could practically hear the last threads of Lady Sala’s composure snapping as Zeke once again threw her own words back at her.

Had he not witnessed the old woman’s earlier dominance, Leo might have mistaken her for a complete pushover. She stumbled into every trap as though she had chosen her words solely for Zeke to turn against her.

Of course, Leo knew better. This was his brother’s most infuriating talent: making everyone else appear foolish while he alone remained the voice of reason.

“You...!” Lady Sala looked ready to explode. But before she could do something she might regret, the queen intervened.

“Aunty,” she said gently. “There is no real harm in accepting his proposal, is there?”

Silence fell as Myr and the queen exchanged glances.

Leo could guess what they were considering: whether preventing the Hohenheim family from combining their Merits was worth breaking their word.

As he saw it, they were choosing the lesser of two evils.

Blocking the transfer would destroy whatever credibility the crown had left. But allowing Zeke and Leo to combine their Merits would mean trading one of the largest territories in exchange for a mere Grandmage.

Others in Leo’s position might have been insulted by the low evaluation. But Leo viewed things from a more practical angle: they were absolutely right to reject him. He could not perform this role. And if anyone else had tried to force such a responsibility upon him, he would have rejected it long ago.

Alas, it was not anyone else. It was his own brother arranging it.

And so, the best Leo could do was silently root for the royal faction to find a way to block the proposal.

Just then, Leo caught Zeke’s eye. His brother was looking straight at him.

Cold sweat immediately ran down Leo’s back. He had the distinct feeling that Zeke knew exactly what he had just been thinking.

Slowly, Zeke’s expression morphed into a grin, and Leo felt his face go pale.

It was as if his brother were saying: Abandon those foolish hopes. I’ll make you a lord today, no matter what.

Incidentally, that was the exact moment the royal faction finally made its choice.

“Fine then, Lord Hohenheim,” Myr said, though her reluctance was clear. “Considering your own performance, the queen has decided to give in to your whims this once...”

Leo’s eyes widened.

Myr’s expression turned solemn, just like always when she made an official proclamation.

Oh, no!

“Leo von Hohenheim has been accepted as steward of the Hohenheim estate.”

Zeke’s grin, still directed at Leo, widened by a fraction. Even after that, his eyes remained fixed on him.

Leo suddenly had a bad premonition. There was something in his brother’s eyes that made him feel as if this had not been Zeke’s final move yet—as if everything so far had only been the appetizer to an even greater banquet.

“I am certain you already have a place in mind, so please tell us.”

At Myr’s words, Zeke finally averted his gaze and looked back at the old woman.

“Indeed, I do,” Zeke said, his expression returning to normal.

He pointed at the large map, to the far north, at the region bordering the elven forest. Leo actually recognized the location. It was Elvengrad, the border town connecting Rukia to the elves and currently home to tens of thousands of refugees. It was the very city where the mercenary leaders had held their strategy meeting a few months ago.

Myr’s mouth twitched. “Lord Hohenheim, you might not be aware, but Elvengrad is jointly managed by the Matriarchy and us. Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t give it to you.”

Though her words sounded regretful, it was plain to see that she enjoyed finally having a good enough excuse to reject one of Zeke’s requests.

“That’s fine,” Zeke said easily. “I don’t want the city.”

Myr sighed. “Please speak plainly, Lord Hohenheim. What is it that you want?”

Zeke remained silent for a moment.

“I want the North.”

“Yes, yes...” Myr said, exasperated. “We can all see where you’re pointing. But you have to be more specific than that.”

Zeke tilted his head. He looked at his finger, then at Myr, as though unsure what she expected him to do.

Then he shrugged.

He drew the ornate dagger from his belt and dragged its tip across the pad of his finger. A bead of blood welled from the shallow cut, perfectly round and unnaturally bright beneath the lights of the hall.

Zeke studied it for a moment.

Then he flicked his hand.

The droplet sailed through the air and struck the map in the center of the northern wilds, not far from the Sanctuary city. It landed with a tiny, almost insignificant splatter.

Myr frowned.

She opened her mouth to speak—

Then, the blood moved.

Thin crimson tendrils crept outward from the stain, threading through the painted forests like roots searching for fertile soil. They crossed hills, swallowed valleys, and slipped over rivers without slowing. Wherever they passed, the map vanished beneath a glistening layer of red.

Then the tendrils thickened.

The stain spread faster, no longer resembling spilled blood, but something alive and ravenous. It poured across the north like a flood while crawling like fire, branching into countless veins that seized every stretch of unclaimed land they touched.

Leo stared.

The single droplet should have run dry almost immediately. Instead, the blood continued to multiply, seemingly feeding upon the map itself. Forests disappeared beneath it. Mountains became crimson shadows. Rivers were reduced to faint lines trapped beneath the spreading red.

Gasps rang out as the stain surpassed the territory Odyr had claimed in the south. Within seconds, it had grown nearly twice as large, yet its edges continued to crawl outward, relentless and deliberate.

Leo’s heart grew cold.

This was the deep wilderness—untamed land where roads barely existed and civilization had little more than a foothold.

He had already struggled with the thought of managing a fief in the inner region. What Zeke was claiming now was on another level altogether. Even on open roads, it would likely take a week to travel from one end to the other. Through the deep forest, the journey could take more than a month.

But to his horror, the blood was still spreading.

There were no more gasps now.

The crowd was dead silent.

Myr’s expression had grown extremely ugly as she watched a large part of her country become dyed crimson.

The entire north had been consumed by Zeke’s blood.

Only then did it stop.

Now, it was also clear what Zeke had meant when he said he wanted the north. He had meant it literally: he wanted the entire north of the country.

In the tense silence, a single voice spoke, still as cheerful as before.

“...Is that precise enough for you, Lady Sala?”