Chapter 287: Showdown

“Has Luo Ning arrived?”

In the courtyard, Wigens, seated in his wheelchair, brightened at Holwart’s report.

“This fellow comes home without so much as a word—quick, send him to me.”

The great victory on the southwestern front meant Wigens’s share of the iron mine had been restored; he had been elated these past days.

“Lord, Master Luo Ning is currently in the back garden discussing matters with the Marquis—he may not be free just yet.”

“No matter. Go tell him first; when he’s done, have him come to me.”

Nearby, Dianni, humming a quiet tune as she bent to tend the flowers and plants, cast a glance at her husband. “Are you still planning to demand a share of the Chi Mountain Iron Mine from Luo Ning?”

“Of course—that was the agreement.” Wigens spoke as if it were self-evident.

Dianni continued watering, head bowed. “Things are different now. Back then, Corien had not betrayed us; Luo Ning merely went through the motions. But in truth, it was Luo Ning who secured the victory. To now demand a thirty-percent share of the Chi Mountain Iron Mine is inappropriate.”

Wigens frowned, his gaze toward his wife suddenly unfamiliar.

“You’ve changed. Now you speak for Luo Ning.”

Dianni rose, carrying the watering can to the side, speaking with effortless calm. “As everyone says, Luo Ning is the hope of the Wu Mountain family—and he truly is exceptional.”

“That’s true. I never imagined he’d rise to such heights.”

Wigens conceded reluctantly, “But I will not relinquish my claim to the mine’s share. I’ll settle for less, if I must.”

After leaving Rulans, Luo Ning received Holwart’s invitation to visit his father, Wigens.

He knew full well what the meeting would entail.

Yet since Rulans had already decided to grant him both Chi Mountain Town and Giant Rock City, the ownership of the Chi Mountain Iron Mine naturally belonged to him alone.

There was no need to negotiate a division with Wigens.

But how would the man react if he simply said so?

Thus, Luo Ning delayed his visit, citing the excuse that he would come after lunch with Rulans.

“Brother, how did you train? How did you become a Silver Knight?”

Breton rushed over, stunned, bombarding him with questions.

When he first read the news in the letter, he could hardly believe it.

Last time they met, Breton had felt his brother’s silhouette was impossibly distant—now, he felt utterly incapable of catching up.

“Unyielding determination, relentless effort, an indomitable will—that’s what propelled me forward so swiftly.”

Luo Ning clapped Breton on the shoulder, solemnly. “Push yourself, Breton. If you follow my path, you too will make great strides.”

Breton’s eyes sparkled with adoration. “I will learn from you, without fail!”

As they spoke, Moster returned with Aelin.

Now she wore a sky-blue mage’s robe, its silhouette reminiscent of a corseted gown.

She lifted the hem and swirled it lightly. “Moster says this robe costs hundreds of gold coins—is it truly fitting for me to receive such a gift?”

Though she adored it, she knew the exorbitant price of magical attire—and hesitated to accept.

Luo Ning’s eyes lit up.

They say clothes make the man—how true.

With the robe on, Aelin’s entire demeanor had ascended a notch.

“If the Marquis gifted it as a token of welcome, wear it without hesitation.”

Luo Ning was thoroughly pleased with the effect. “Moster, is there anything special about this robe?”

“Master Luo Ning, it is said this robe enhances the spell ‘Lighten the Body.’”

Aelin nodded. “I tested it—when I activate the bead on my chest with magic, my body grows lighter, my movements far swifter.”

Luo Ning stepped forward, brushing his fingers over the bead. “Indeed, there is a faint wind-elemental resonance within.”

In battle, such a robe would offer considerable advantage.

“Do you know who crafted this mage’s robe?”

Magical garments—what a promising trade.

Moster shook his head. “I only know it was gifted by Viscount Denis of Spire City. I do not know its maker.”

As the three discussed the robe, Breton approached, hesitating, curious. “Is this… your wife?”

Ah.

The question stunned them all.

Aelin flushed crimson.

Luo Ning tapped him on the head.

Moster bowed low. “Master Breton, you misunderstand. This is Miss Aelin, a mid-level mage of Wu North Province. She is your age.”

A flicker of astonishment crossed Breton’s eyes—an inexplicable weight settled in his chest.

He could not match his brother’s strength, fine—but now it seemed even his brother’s companions outshone him.

This would not do!

Had Luo Ning known Breton’s thoughts, he could only sigh—those who live for cultivation view the world in ways ordinary folk cannot fathom.

They chatted a while longer, then joined Rulans for lunch.

After instructing Moster to settle Aelin, Luo Ning made his way to Wigens’s courtyard.

“Father.” Luo Ning bowed respectfully.

Wigens grunted, quietly annoyed—he had sent word early, yet Luo Ning had delayed until after noon.

“Sit, Luo Ning. Your performance has left us all in awe. The family is proud of you!”

“Thank you for your praise. It was my duty.”

Luo Ning sat, took up the chilled juice the servant had prepared, and drank deeply—refreshing.

“After this victory, I will petition your grandfather to grant you Chi Mountain Town as your fief.”

Rulans had not yet informed Wigens of his decision—hence this remark.

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Father—but Father, Grandfather already told me this morning: he will grant me Chi Mountain Town.”

Luo Ning paused. “And the Giant Rock Domain of the Hansens as well.”

“What?”

Wigens froze, stunned by the reply.

His fingers instinctively gripped the armrest, his posture straightening.

“Then, Luo Ning… what of our earlier agreement?”

Luo Ning considered, then decided against circumlocution.

“Father, when we spoke before, you helped me secure the right to manage Chi Mountain Town. But now, Grandfather has directly granted me the land—and with it, full ownership of the Chi Mountain Iron Mine.”

He spread his hands.

“You gave me no aid in this. So I cannot agree to your claim on its share.”

*CRACK!*

Wigens crushed the armrest in his rage.

He had prepared himself to haggle with Rowning, but never expected the latter would shut the door on negotiation with a single sentence—leaving not a sliver of room for bargaining.

Perhaps the fire of greed had scorched his reason; Viggins seized the splintered wood, wrapped it in his aura, and hurled it toward Rowning, his voice trembling with rage: “What are you saying?”

Rowning did not move. Only when the wood was inches from his face did he unleash a burst of aura, shaping it into a partial suit of armor.

With a sharp crack, the wood struck the aura armor and ricocheted back, embedding itself in the grass beside Viggins’s feet.

“You—!”

In that instant, Viggins snapped awake.

He had forgotten—Rowning was no longer the man he could strike or scold at will.

A Silver Knight, even with both legs intact, could not have withstood a single blow from him—how much less so now, with his mobility crippled?

Had Rowning adjusted the angle ever so slightly, that piece of wood could have pierced the one leg he still had left.

Dianne, hearing the noise, stepped out of the house at once. At the sight before her, she guessed the situation instantly.

“We’re family,” she said, approaching. “There’s no need for such anger. Let’s talk this through.”

“The lady speaks wisely,” Rowning replied, dismissing his aura with a smile. “There’s a saying: anger is the devil. Father, after all you’ve endured in life, to still cling to this habit—it’s not a good thing.”

Viggins snorted, no longer displaying aggression, but his face darkened as if on the verge of tears.

Dianne heard the accusation in Rowning’s tone, yet could only sigh helplessly:

“Since his leg was broken, his temper has softened somewhat. But habits forged over half a lifetime are hard to cast off entirely.”

Viggins shot Dianne a furious glance, then growled: “Rowning, mind your tone. No matter what, I am still your father!”

“I never forget it,” Rowning replied gently. “But you must also remember—I am not merely your son.” (End of chapter)