"Dad, why are you begging like this? Get up!"Harper rushed to Edward and embraced him, then tried to pull him to his feet so he wouldn’t have to bow before this extortionist baron.But Edward didn’t move. No matter how many times Harper tried, the man remained kneeling before Alistair, his head lowered, as if deeply contemplating the deal the baron had just offered."Harper, forgive me for interfering in your affairs."The Mayor of Wyndham, who had been seated at the front of the left group, now rose from his chair."But what Lord Everstone says is true. No commoner in this kingdom can insult a noble family without facing severe consequences."His expression was serious and tense as he spoke. He was the one who had introduced Harper to Nicholas years ago and had been delighted that the engagement was finally taking place. Seeing how things had unfolded, he was truly taken aback."If I may offer some advice, please reconsider your decision. It may be difficult to live with someone you

Meanwhile, in the last row of seats.[Looks like there’s been a change of plans.]Sent.Marc sent a message to Ulrich, explaining the situation unfolding in Wyndham.Initially, they had agreed to avoid any commotion until the first young man successfully obtained Earl Godfrey’s master file. However, given what was happening right in front of him, Marc couldn’t simply sit back any longer.With his incredibly sharp hearing, Marc could catch Rachel’s murmurs—whispers so faint that even people standing right next to her wouldn’t have been able to hear them. She was muttering about the crimes Nicholas had committed against her, as well as the long list of atrocities carried out by Alistair and the entire Everstone family.Because Rachel was only distantly related to the Everstone family, anyone hearing her accusations might assume she was making things up.But the situation unfolding now was aligning far too well with what she was saying. If nothing else, it was heading in the exact direct

"You talk a big game, but where's your proof? Isn't this just empty rhetoric? If you're serious about your accusations, then show me the evidence!"At this moment, Alistair appeared serious, as if deeply offended and angered by the young man before him. Yet deep inside, he was laughing hysterically."Hahaha! Just because you have immense cultivation, you think you can threaten me?" he thought. "Nonsense! I will utterly destroy you!"Alistair knew that directly threatening Marc would only paint a bad image of himself in the eyes of those around him. Moreover, if a fight broke out, he might lose some of his own cultivators.But if he took a different approach—countering the young man’s accusations with a compelling argument—it would be the best way to safeguard his reputation and integrity. Even more than that, it would make the people believe in him even more.Ten seconds passed. Marc simply stared at Alistair with a piercing gaze, not uttering a single word, making the baron all the m

"Then who is he?" Margaret's sharp gaze bore into her daughter, her anger unmistakable. "Who is he that you would go to such lengths to defend him?""He is Marc Belmont!"Harper’s voice was firm as she met her mother’s glare, then turned her gaze toward Edward, the mayor, and everyone else in the room who might still be doubting the young man."He is a disciple of Master Tilcott! He is the student of the very woman who cured Father’s illness—the woman to whom Father owes a great debt! Now tell me, do you still think it’s appropriate to treat him with such disrespect?"A disciple of Master Tilcott.As Harper’s words echoed through the room, the once noisy space—filled with ridicule, outrage, and the urge to beat Marc down—fell into complete silence. It was as if time itself had frozen, rendering everyone incapable of movement."A disciple of…? Did I hear that correctly?"Within seconds, all eyes were locked onto Marc. Helma’s reputation was too great, too revered—even speaking her name

The baron struggled to keep his anger in check, refusing to lose control in front of Marc. He knew that everyone in the room now trusted the young man implicitly. If he lashed out, he risked destroying his carefully cultivated reputation in their eyes."You forced my hand, so don’t blame me for what happens next."That was all Marc said before moving with a speed that ordinary cultivators—let alone non-cultivators—couldn’t possibly follow. In an instant, his right hand darted toward the left side of the baron’s tuxedo and pulled something from the inner pocket."See? Now, do you all understand?"Marc held a small pink ring box high in the air, ensuring Harper and everyone present could see it clearly."The man you all think so highly of stole this box from an abbot in Cammont," Marc declared. "And tonight, I came here to take it back."The room erupted in shock."W-what? Am I hearing this correctly? Mr. Belmont is here to reclaim a stolen item from Lord Everstone—an item taken from an