Chapter 52: Preparation
'Jacob's team will need at least ten days to return. Until then, I should focus on other things.'
Raven returned to his room and rested.
The next ten days passed in steady, intentional effort.
First, he visited Rebecca and formally appointed her as an apprentice maid under Stephanie's supervision. He also instructed Stephanie to teach both Rebecca and Robert basic etiquette — manners, posture, speech, dining rules. They needed to blend into his future plans.
Next, he visited the Police Court and officially applied for the annulment of his engagement with Catherine Sinclair.
The procedure took an entire day, but in the end, both families agreed.
The Sinclair Family — a true Noble Family with the title of Baronet — controlled:
One rural townSix villages~12,000 acres of farmlandTwo city mansionsTwo coal minesThree millsMultiple shops
Marrying Catherine to the ruined Holmes family — whose shops had been seized and whose heir was drowning in a debt of over 100,000 gold — felt like condemning her to misery.
Raven couldn't blame them.
But that didn't erase the other truth:
They had completely abandoned Thomas.
No support after his parents died.
No effort to find him after he was kidnapped and tortured.
Neglect disguised as pragmatism.
Raven returned to the mansion quietly.
"Emanuel," he called as he stepped through the foyer, "put the Sinclair, Amell, and Wills families on the red list."
"Red list, My Lord?" Emanuel blinked. "What does that mean?"
"It means if any of those families land in trouble, we won't send them a single silver." Raven headed upstairs without looking back.
Emanuel stared at his retreating figure, conflicted.
Are we even in a position to help others? he wondered silently.
Stephanie walked up beside him.
"I can see the doubt in your eyes, kid," she said coldly. "You're thinking too lightly of our Lord."
She crossed her arms.
"When we went to the Capital, he showed us how far his reach already is. In just ten days, he befriended a young master of the Findlay Family and gained favor from an expert alchemist of the Ravenshield Family. And remember — he disappeared for four days straight at the start. I'm certain he met someone far more influential."
She leaned closer, voice lowering.
"And Emanuel… I know you're still working for the Humphrey Household, sending them our information. If you want to keep your life, stop now."
A chill spread through Emanuel's spine.
"H-How did you know?"
Stephanie scoffed.
"A banquet letter from the Humphrey House? Out of nowhere? Where were they when our Lord went missing? How did they know he's doing well — unless someone inside told them? A small Knight household doesn't get information like that."
She left for the kitchen, leaving him pale and shaking.
A cold male voice echoed behind him.
"She's right."
Emanuel spun around, heart racing.
"Sir Marcellus!"
Marcellus stepped forward, rugged face expressionless.
"I've been monitoring you for a long time. You have three days. Either confess to Lord Thomas and serve him honestly… or return to your real masters."
His voice remained calm.
"If you fail to choose… I will kill you and dump your body in the sewers."
He turned and walked away.
Emanuel collapsed onto a chair, trembling.
Choose Holmes House… or the wealthy Humphrey Family?
Logic said Humphrey.
But—
If I return and admit I was caught… they might kill me.
If I stay… at least the Lord shows mercy, and Stephanie… she's convinced he'll rise again.
Emanuel climbed the stairs and confessed everything to Raven:
His loyalty to the Humphrey Household. His spying. His role as a trained butler sent to infiltrate noble houses.
"Every Noble and Knight household nurtures butlers like me, My Lord," he finished, kneeling. "We observe. Report. Blend in. If we're discovered, both sides may discard or kill us."
Raven listened quietly.
He had suspected this already — which was why he placed Stephanie to observe him.
'I don't want a spy in my house… but Zera?'
[No. Keep him. Give him benefits. A man chooses loyalty when his survival depends on it. What would you choose?]
Raven exhaled.
'I'd choose the same.'
"Continue working," Raven said finally. "But if you want to remain Head Butler, you'll sign a magic contract in the future. From that moment on, you serve the Holmes House until death."
Emanuel's voice cracked with relief.
"Yes, My Lord! Thank you!"
"You may leave."
The next ten days passed in study — Runology, spearmanship, and preparation.
On the morning of October 14, a loud knock echoed through Raven's room.
"My Lord," Emanuel called, "Sir Jacob and his team have returned!"
Raven stretched, changed into clean robes, and stepped into the main hall.
Jacob, Selene, and Quincy stood waiting near the hearth.
He sat down.
"How was the trip? Did you acquire everything?"
Selene stepped forward.
"We made a good profit from the 'Mind of Insight' potions, My Lord. If you hadn't warned us about the rarity of mind-enhancing potions, we would've sold them too cheaply."
She continued:
"Lady Anastasia tested a diluted version on a mortal. She was shocked and proposed a new deal."
"A deal?" Raven raised a brow.
"As long as we sell exclusively to her shop, she'll auction them under the Ravenshield Family's name and give you 80% of the profit. She cannot lower prices due to a 10% Alchemy Tax."
"Auction, hm? You didn't sell everything directly?"
"We sold the first batch," Selene said. "At 7,800 gold coins each. Future ones will be auctioned."
Jacob added carefully as he handed over a spatial ring:
"However, the ingredients you asked us to buy cost nearly 64,000 gold, leaving us with only 21,800. We also didn't use the extra 9,000 you gave us."
Selene added, "We sold the Twin Shadow Viper corpse for 1,400 gold. We disposed of the cyclops and the strange goblin."
Raven nodded.
"21,800 + 9,000 + 1,400… that gives me about 32,200 gold."
He stood.
"I'll be in the alchemy room for several days. No one approaches it."
Raven entered the room and began preparing to brew 100 batches of Mind of Insight.
This time, he limited his work to twelve hours a day.
Six days passed in intense concentration, failures, adjustments, and breakthroughs.
His success rate rose from 30% to 40%.
By October 20, he had successfully produced:
38 Mind of Insight potions.
He left the alchemy room and called Jacob and Selene.
"There are thirty-eight potions in the ring," Raven said. "Go to the Capital and auction them."
He paused.
"Also, ask Lady Anastasia for a fake debt document of 120,000 gold with their household seal."
Selene understood immediately.
"You're hiding your alchemist identity."
"Yes. If I suddenly produce 114,000 gold, the Spade Council will demand explanations. They could confiscate our property under the guise of an investigation."
"Would nobles go that far?" Jacob muttered.
"They would do worse."
Raven continued:
"Return before November 12."
Selene asked, "Should we buy more ingredients?"
"Yes. Sixty batches of Mind of Insight materials. Bring back the remaining gold. And tell Anastasia we'll supply ten potions monthly for auction."
Jacob hesitated nervously.
"My Lord… we won't be targeted, right?"
Raven considered it.
These potions were incredible for Rank-1 Walkers and mortals…
But for Radiant Rank and above, they barely mattered.
"No Expert Walker will bother you," Raven said firmly. "Still—"
He looked at Selene.
"Use disguises from now on. Do not reveal your identities. And request Anastasia send someone to collect the monthly supply."
They both bowed.
"Yes, My Lord."
They departed immediately.
Raven leaned back in his chair.
'My next goal is to form a small Knight Order…'
But officially creating one required ownership of a Baronet-level territory.
Impossible for now.
'I can still gather a few apprentice knights and train them under Mercenary Guild registration.'
But reclaiming Azmar Town?
Not yet. Not with his current strength.
He called out:
"Emanuel, when does Spade Knights Academy hold graduation?"
"In December, My Lord," Emanuel called from the kitchen. "Large academies like Spade Knights hold exams two weeks before Wizard Selection."
"I want to visit the Academy," Raven said. "I want to observe this year's graduates."
Emanuel nodded.
"You were a dropout, My Lord. If you speak to the Headmaster, you could enroll midway and graduate. It would help you form connections."
Raven shook his head.
"I don't have time for classes. And my current strength equals a Peak Elite Knight. I don't need a certificate."
Emanuel blinked.
Peak Elite Knight? Then Academy is pointless…
"Some nobles sponsor talented apprentice knights," he offered. "But sponsorship requires the Headmaster's approval."
"Oh?" Raven smiled. "Prepare the carriage. We're going."
Marcellus appeared from the corridor.
"I'll accompany you, My Lord."
"I won't refuse extra protection."
…
Emanuel readied the black Clarence carriage while the coachman prepared the horses.
Raven and Marcellus boarded first.
Emanuel joined them, closing the door.
The carriage rolled out of the Holmes estate, moving through Giaris's bustling morning streets.
Silver Street grew more elegant the farther they traveled—green lawns, statues, balconies, and refined buildings lining their path.
Soon, the grand silhouette of Spade Knights Academy appeared.
Five stories tall, surrounded by high walls, watched by uniformed guards.
A landscaped garden greeted visitors:
flowerbeds, hedges, stone paths, and a grand fountain of a knight holding a sword aloft.
The carriage stopped at the gate.
Emanuel stepped out, presented the Holmes emblem — a crimson lion holding a sword — and the guards inspected it carefully.
After a moment, they nodded and opened the gates.
The carriage rolled into the prestigious grounds of Spade Knights Academy.
Inside the Academy, everything looked even grander than Raven expected. Students in blue apprentice uniforms moved through the grounds in steady streams—some with books tucked under their arms, others sparring on the training fields where wooden swords clacked in sharp, rhythmic beats. Groups chatted beneath the shade of tall oaks, their voices drifting like a soft hum across the courtyard.
Raven stepped out of the carriage, taking in the surroundings with a calm, assessing gaze.
A thin man in his fifties, wearing sharp spectacles and carrying several rolled-up art sheets, noticed him and approached quickly.
"Good morning, Sir. I'm Paxton, Professor of Arts and Paintings. May I help you?" he asked, confusion appearing on his face.
"I'm Thomas Holmes," Raven replied. "I'm here to meet the Headmaster on an important matter. Please guide me to his office."
Paxton's eyes widened instantly.
"Thomas? My goodness! I barely recognized you! I read in the papers that you'd been kidnapped… and that terrible things happened. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Professor. Though I lost many of my memories in an accident. Shall we walk and talk?" Raven said, glancing back as Marcellus and Emanuel followed silently.
"Oh—my apologies. Come, this way."
As they walked through the long corridor, Professor Paxton asked question after question about Thomas's situation and the Holmes family's decline. Raven answered vaguely, focusing instead on the interior of the Academy.
The walls displayed portraits: Count Spade with his long white robe and beard, a sharp-looking young man dressed in formal black, and finally a red-haired woman in her thirties.
Paxton noticed Raven slowing down.
"It seems you really forgot your memories," he said gently. "These are the founders of the Spade Knights Academy. You studied about them in your first year…"
Raven didn't reply.
They reached the third floor, where things were quieter—reserved for administrative affairs. At the end of the hall was a large polished oak door with a brass nameplate.
Paxton knocked.
"Enter," came a deep voice.
The office inside was as impressive as the Academy itself. Bookshelves filled with journals, histories, and strategy manuals lined the walls. Paintings depicting manor shadows, moonlit gardens, and misty fields added an artistic charm. A massive mahogany desk stood in the center, behind which sat a dignified man in his sixties—silver hair, neat uniform, and sharp eyes that assessed Raven immediately.
Headmaster Ares Granville.
"Thomas Holmes," Ares said, leaning back slightly. "It's been more than two years since I last saw you. You've grown… quite a bit. What brings you here?"
Raven stepped forward and bowed politely.
[They all seem to be aware of Thomas' situation. But nobody even put an effort into looking for him. What a cruel world.] Zera muttered.
"Good morning, Headmaster," Raven said. "I'm here to discuss sponsoring this year's graduating apprentice knights."
"Sponsorship?" Ares raised a brow.
"Do you understand what that entails? Your family no longer holds a Baronet title. Azmar Town was tiny to begin with—and after its destruction, the Holmes House became a fallen noble line. With the Spade Council pressing you from all sides, you're only steps away from losing all property. What can you achieve by sponsoring knight apprentices now?"
Raven took the seat across from the desk. He lifted his hand.
A leather bag appeared and landed with a heavy thud on the polished surface.
"There are one hundred platinum coins inside," Raven said calmly. "I want to select twenty students from the Academy and recruit them as my soldiers. Will this not be enough?"
Ares stared.
"One hundred platinum coins? You could hire over a dozen Radiant Knights with this."
"My Lord has already contracted the Sepoy Mercenaries for ten years," Marcellus said quietly.
Ares finally looked at him. "And you are?"
"Marcellus. Swordsman of the Sepoy Mercenaries." A polite bow accompanied his introduction.
Ares turned back to Raven, eyes narrowing in thought.
"So that's your intention… signing long-term contracts with apprentice knights."
He wasn't stupid. He understood immediately.
Raven took out another small pouch and slid it forward.
"As long as you help me, I will donate a thousand gold coins to the Academy each year."
Ares peeked inside. Ten platinum coins glittered up at him.
"Oh…"
A bright smile spread across his face.
"Every year, around 4,800 students graduate. Nobles sponsor two hundred of the best and send them to the Crow's Misery for the Wizard Admission exam. About two thousand join the army or head to the Capital for work. The rest filter into government jobs or guard posts. Some even become mercenaries, though they quit quickly." He folded his hands.
"Outside the top two hundred, recruiting the rest is easy—as long as you pay three gold coins monthly."
Raven nodded.
[Why wouldn't he agree? Twenty of his students get long-term jobs, you offered to bribe him, and working for a noble household is safer than the army.] Zera said.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Raven said.
"Just remember the annual donation," Ares added, already returning to his paperwork.