In the following week, the Dag family publicly announced their withdrawal from golem research investments. The news spread quickly, whispered through trade halls and noble gatherings alike. Some saw it as an inevitable retreat—proof that the Dag family had finally recognized its limits. Others sneered at the "lesson" the nobles had taught them, mocking their supposed overreach into affairs beyond their station.
For the public, it was a spectacle, a cautionary tale.
For Fornos Dag, it was a mask.
The records had been forged, the books altered. While the world believed the Dag family had taken a step back, in reality, Fornos had redirected the funds into private ventures, hidden behind layers of false transactions, intermediaries, and dummy investments. The money still fueled golem research—just not in the way anyone expected.
Even Voss Dag, a man who had seen his son's cunning firsthand, found himself caught off guard.
"You actually pulled it off," he muttered, swirling a glass of brandy as he studied his son across the study. "With all the tabs they were keeping on us, I expected you to back down at the last moment."
Fornos leaned against the desk, arms crossed in confidence. "Father, I know you're worried, but this is nothing compared to the mass cascade we orchestrated two years ago. That was a true gamble."
Voss exhaled slowly, setting his glass down. "You say 'we,' but let's be honest—it was you running that operation from the shadows. And even then, I'd argue what we did back then was tamer than this."
Fornos arched an eyebrow. "A cascade failure in trade that brought down several top-tier companies, leaving our competitors scrambling like rats in a flood—that was tamer?" He let out a small scoff. "If you had said 'equally risky,' I would have understood."
Voss gave his son a hard look. "Money, no matter how much, can be replaced. Power, however... power invites retaliation. If you tear down a merchant, another will rise to take his place. But if you bring down a noble house?" He shook his head. "That doesn't just go away. The nobility remembers."
Fornos smirked. "Good. I want them to remember."
The air in the room shifted. There was something in Fornos' tone—not just ambition, but certainty.
Before Voss could respond, a voice interrupted them.
"Well, that's just proof you aren't as perfect and inhuman as you pretend to be."
Fornos turned toward the doorway.
His mother, Mary Dag, stood there with a composed yet piercing gaze.
"Mother—"
Before he could finish, she stepped forward and lightly slapped the back of his head. It wasn't hard, but it was enough to leave him momentarily stunned.
"What?" Mary said, crossing her arms. "You're acting like you didn't deserve that."
Fornos blinked, thrown off for just a second. He was rarely caught off guard, but his mother had a way of disrupting even his most calculated plans.
"I—"
"This will be your routine every day you wake up in this house," she said matter-of-factly. "Until you either quit or succeed."
Voss chuckled, setting his drink down. "Honey, you do realize he's been self-sufficient since he first stepped into the trade market? The boy could buy an estate for himself tomorrow if he wanted to."
"Will you shut up?" Mary snapped, shooting her husband a glare. "It's the last semblance of authority I have as his mother, and I'll exercise it as I see fit."
Fornos, despite himself, let out a small laugh and took his mother's hand. "Don't worry," he said softly. "I've accounted for everything—even your worries."
Mary studied his face, searching for cracks in the confidence he so often displayed. Finding none, she sighed. "Fine. But I swear, if I so much as sense you slipping into something monstrous, I will tie you up and drag you out of it myself. No questions asked."
"Wait a minute—" Fornos started.
"No!" Mary cut him off. "Either you do this my way, or I fast until death."
Fornos clenched his jaw. He knew she wasn't bluffing. His mother had always been the immovable force in his life, the one person even he couldn't manipulate.
"...Fine," he said at last.
Voss burst into laughter. "So, how much did that one statement dial your plan back?"
"About 2%," Fornos muttered.
"Don't lie."
"...25%," he admitted, looking away.
Mary frowned. "Why do you look embarrassed?"
Voss smirked. "Because his grand scheme for political domination just got blindsided by his mother's scolding." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Even Bernard Ponzi, the man who coined the term 'Schemer,' would bury his head in embarrassment if that happened to him."
Mary sighed, shaking her head at both of them. "You two really are impossible."
Fornos was silent for a moment, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "Mother... if I ever step too far, if I become one of them... will you truly stop me?"
Mary's expression softened, but her answer was immediate. "Yes."
There was no hesitation. No doubt.
Fornos nodded slowly. "...Good."
Voss exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple. "You two talk about power and morality like it's a simple game. But this isn't a trade deal. The moment you move against the nobles, you step onto a battlefield where hesitation means death. The moment you make your play, there's no going back."
Fornos met his father's gaze, his green eyes gleaming with something cold and unwavering. "I have no intention of going back."
Voss watched him for a long time before sighing. "Then you'd best win."
Mary turned away, shaking her head. "If he doesn't, I will drag him back."
Fornos smiled, but something in his expression was unreadable.
He had taken his first step.
And he would not stop.
If the nobles thought they had crushed the Dag family's ambitions, they were gravely mistaken.
This was only the beginning.