Chapter 308: Several Sons

In a dimly lit room, Drag, governor of the Magulana Province, lay on a lounge chair while two women in their twenties relaxed the muscles in his back.

To live longer and maintain his power, he had spent heavily to hire renowned doctors from places like Saidolas as his private health advisors.

They told him that prolonged sitting had seriously damaged his spine and back, so he needed daily physical therapy involving pressing, kneading, and rubbing to ease the pain.

This was perhaps the most carefree moment of his day. The two women applied just the right pressure, making him drowsy.

“Sir…”

Just as he was about to fall asleep, a voice outside the door dispelled his drowsiness, irritating him. His anger flared briefly but soon calmed.

He opened his eyes and raised his hand. The women stopped their work and helped him put on a luxurious house robe.

At the door, the butler bowed, “Sir, the young masters have arrived…”

Hearing it was those useless sons disturbing his rest, he grew even more displeased.

The butler knew this was the governor’s most relaxed time of day. If it weren’t for those sons insisting, he would have asked them to wait until after the governor finished or woke up.

But the butler couldn’t refuse their demands. No matter how long he’d served the family or how much trust the governor placed in him, he was still a servant—never truly family. Even when he could do things relatives couldn’t, blood ties always came first. Trust and closeness were ultimately superficial.

Fortunately, the governor wasn’t one to take out his anger on others. Knowing who disturbed his rest, his anger rose again but with more restraint.

Entering the study, he already knew the gist from the butler. When he sat down, the eldest son was about to speak but was silenced by a glare.

After the butler served pastries and mild tea, the governor leisurely ate and sipped until, after several minutes, he nodded approvingly.

“The pastries taste good today.”

The butler bowed slightly. “The chef said he modeled them on some foreign trends and was quite nervous.”

The governor nodded approvingly. “Give him a reward. We need people who think and strive.”

The butler cleared the table and left. Once the study door closed, the atmosphere grew tense.

He watched his sons standing there—only the eldest two maintained decent posture. The other three, useless as they were, fidgeted. If not for his authority, they’d be lounging on sofas, enjoying food and drink brought by the butler.

The more he looked, the more dissatisfied he felt. This was common among capable people—they held contempt for those less competent.

Even though these were his children, bound by blood, he treated them worse than outsiders.

At least with strangers, he feigned friendliness. With them, he showed his true self.

“Speak. What’s the matter?” Though he already knew, he asked anyway. They’d likely twist the facts.

No, they definitely would. The governor had learned that people’s interests colored their words.

As a ruler, impartial listening was vital.

The sons babbled through the story. The governor said nothing but looked at them. “Give me your opinions… start with the eldest.”

“I think we should give it to him!” The eldest’s bold words surprised him.

His eyelid twitched. If he weren’t older and practicing self-cultivation to maintain peace, he’d want to throw something.

Lynch was no ordinary young man. The governor knew that from the start. At twenty-one, with no official background, to rapidly amass huge wealth in the ruthless federation was no small feat.

Even in Nagaryll, a closed society with little competition, it was hard for ruling-class descendants to go independent. That Lynch had reached this level spoke volumes.

Luck, opportunity, and ability—all were necessary. Would such a man be easy to manipulate?

The governor hadn’t expected things to escalate this far. He thought his sons had trapped Lynch, and expected Lynch to resolve it by aligning with some interest group or by negotiating with him.

If Lynch became the governor’s partner, minor players like Mishehaye wouldn’t dare offend him, and troubles would vanish.

Of course, Lynch’s alliance would cost him, but this was the best solution in the governor’s view.

But Lynch chose none of it. He took the most surprising approach—resolving the crisis but shifting the problem back onto the governor.

Was this problem easy to solve?

No. Agreeing would mean Lynch controlled Magulana’s internal and external trade. Control over finances was crucial; once he throttled the province’s throat, troubles would only grow.

Disagreeing wasn’t easy either. Lynch accepted their demands, but they couldn’t meet his. News would spread quickly, embarrassing Mishehaye, the sons, and even the governor.

He hoped the sons might have unexpected ideas but instead was immediately disappointed.

He took a sip of tea, calmed himself, and glanced at the eldest. “Continue.”

The eldest, somewhat smug, said, “We’re just placating him now. With these benefits, he’ll care more about his investments in Nagaryll. We can influence some of his ideas.”

“Some things we need—heavy industry factories, technology, metal formulas—we can get through Lynch from the Baylor Federation.”

“Once we get what we want, we’ll find an excuse to void the previous agreement and then arrest him!”

The governor’s suspicion of his eldest son grew stronger.

He wondered if the excuse to void the agreement would be a change in his own authority—his abdication. He thought along those lines.

He also knew the better his health, the more restless his sons grew. The longer he held power, the shorter their chance at it.

If possible, they’d happily see him die suddenly. This was natural; he didn’t blame them. He’d had similar thoughts before—his father always complained about being tired. If so, why not hand power to the young and strong to solve problems?

Understanding is one thing, but caution is still necessary.

He set down his teacup and let out a faint, dry chuckle. “What about you, second boy? What’s your opinion?”

All five sons sensed their father’s displeasure toward the eldest in his laughter. Compared to the eldest’s cold expression, the other four brothers all showed some smiles.

The second son grinned, “Father, my view is similar to eldest’s, but with some differences…”

The eldest gave a forced smile as he glanced at his brother.

The governor frowned. “Speak.”

Ignoring the eldest’s sour look, the second son began, “At first, my idea is much like eldest’s, but later it differs. We can find a way to pit Lynch against the other merchants.”

“Over the years, those foreign traders have made a lot of money relying on us—no, a great deal of money—but they never showed gratitude and often rejected our demands.”

“We can have Lynch fight them. When the conflict is ripe or when intervention is needed, we can cancel some of our agreements with them and push them out.”

“No one can blame us. They have indeed caused social chaos. What we do is reasonable and legal!”