The setting sun like gold over the verdant lawns of the Hisna Estate, as busy servants were shuttling back and forth in the courtyard, making the final preparations for the upcoming banquet.

Nacho stood on the veranda, observing the scene below, toying with a silver coin in his hand.

The coin bore the insignia of the Empire Dragon Slayer Army—a pair of dragon wings with two crossed swords forming an "X" in the center.

In the Empire's royal hierarchy, coins made of different materials symbolized distinct statuses and represented varying degrees of power held by their possessors.

From the lowest to the highest, there are copper coins, silver coins, gold coins, and finally, the Unicorn Crystal, which signified a status second only to the emperor and above all others.

It had taken Nacho Salaman nearly 20 years to upgrade the copper coin he once held to the silver one now in his possession.

Although on the surface it seems to be neither high nor low, this is already a height that the vast majority of people cannot reach in life.

Beyond this point lay the most treacherous whirlpool in the Empire’s power structure.

Those who held gold coins were all seasoned politicians and cunning ministers.

Nacho knew he was not yet at that level. To protect his own territory and keeping his head securely on his shoulders was the greatest success.

Having come this far, the person Nacho was most grateful to wasn’t the "lord" who had promoted him along the way.

It was a "ghost"—a ghost that had vanished twenty years ago.

Twenty years ago, Nacho witnessed that unprecedented and unparalleled fierce battle and had also seen, firsthand, the Dragon Clan’s obsessive fervor for vengeance.

The man named Leon Casmod was truly powerful. Had it not been for Ravi's eventual death along with him, life in the empire would probably not have been as peaceful and stable as it is now.

And Nacho would not have been rewarded and promoted afterwards.

At that time, Leon was the favorite of those high-ranking officials in the royal family. Anything remotely related to Leon offered opportunities for merit, and achieving such success guaranteed promotion and fortune.

Thus, Nacho was deeply grateful to that man. Without him, Nacho would never have climbed to such heights.

Of course—

Nacho looked at the silver coin in his hand, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned.

He could only silently thank in his heart that monster so powerful that it didn't belong to this dimension.

Expressing gratitude in person was no longer possible.

At that moment, a burly waiter carrying a tray slipped quietly across Nacho's field of vision and lowering his head strangely.

The sound of his footsteps interrupted Nacho’s train of thought.

He turned his head to gaze at the back of the tall waiter, his mind stirring slightly as he murmured, “Strange… I don’t recall seeing this person before.”

“Sir, the room is ready. Shall we head over and wait for them?” Another man approached Nacho as he spoke respectfully.

“Scott, have you seen that black-haired waiter?” Nacho asked.

Scott was Nacho’s current deputy, responsible for handling routine matters on his behalf.

Once Nacho earns another promotion, Scott will be able to take his position.

Following Nacho’s line of sight, Scott squinted slightly, inspecting the black-haired waiter’s figure closely before shaking his head. “No, I haven’t. He’s likely new. Hisna Estate has very high standards for waitstaff and servants. Rest assured, Sir.”

Nacho nodded and didn’t dwell further on the matter.

The two made their way through the corridor, heading toward the most luxurious dining room in the Hisna Estate.

After taking their seats, Nacho asked, "How long will it be before Gini and the others arrive?"

"About twenty minutes," Scott replied.

"Alright. Make another round of inspection to ensure that all the people here are ours.”

“Yes, sir.”

Nacho was a cautious man. For every banquet he hosted, he would arrive at the estate in advance to deploy personnel and set up checkpoints.

He relished the feeling of having everything under his control.

Twenty years ago, Nacho hardly understood the nature of power;

But Leon Casmod’s disappearance had indirectly allowed him to sample its intoxicating allure.

That feeling was like an addictive poison—once tasted, it was impossible to stop.

Nacho sat upright at the dining table, his eyes half-closed, quietly awaiting the arrival of the Dagger Special Forces.

Creak—

The door opened.

Heavy and slow footsteps followed.

“Aren’t they supposed to arrive in half an hour?”

Nacho didn’t open his eyes, his tone laced with slight annoyance.

He disliked it when Scott got the timing wrong, and he especially disliked it when the three fools disrupted his carefully laid plans by arriving early.

It gave him an unsettling sense of losing control.

But in the face of Nacho’s reprimand, the intruder didn’t offer a response.

Instead, he just closed the door silently.

Only then did Nacho slowly open his eyes. “I’m asking you a question, Scott, you—”

The moment he got a clear view of the black-haired man standing in the room, all his words were stuck in Nacho’s throat in an instant.

The man was dressed in a waiter’s uniform, holding a tray on which lay a fork and knife.

But Nacho knew that, with this man’s strength, anything could become a deadly weapon in his hands, let alone a knife and fork.

At that moment, Nacho just felt as if he were dreaming.

Or perhaps, as if he had seen a ghost.

Fear exploded within Nacho, paralyzing him. He wanted to cry out, yet the oppressive aura exuded by the man before him rendered him speechless.

It felt as though a stone stuck in the throat. His hands began to go numb, the sensation spreading all the way down to his feet.

Nacho’s eyes widened slowly, with veins popping in their whites and his pupils almost splitting with panic.

At last, he managed to stammer out the man’s name:

“Leon… Casmod…”

Merely uttering the name felt like unlocking an invisible shackle around Nacho’s body.

As if saying it out loud might somehow provide a sliver of relief.

Nacho’s heart pounded furiously, yet he made a strained effort to appear composed.

He quietly lowered one arm beneath the table, using his nails to press painfully against his fingers, attempting to calm himself down with pain.

Leon didn’t appear particularly surprised that Nacho still recognized him.

He stepped forward slowly, pulled out a chair, sat down and casually placed the plate containing the table knife in front of himself.

Leon leaned back in his chair, looking lazily at Nacho opposite him.

He remained silent, merely watching him.

Nacho dared not make eye contact with Leon. He swallowed his saliva with all his might.

Damn it, where were the guards? The patrol squad? His personal attendants?!

Where were these useless subordinates, and why hadn’t a single report come through?!

Just then, hurried footsteps echoed outside the dining room.

Scott burst through the door, panting heavily and stammering anxiously.

“Something’s wrong, sir! Our people… have all been… taken… o-out—Leon Casmod?!”

The momentary shock wore off quickly, and Scott reacted at once, spinning around to summon reinforcements.

However, as soon as he turned, he came face-to-face with two tall young women.

Both had their hands tucked in their pockets, their heads tilted slightly forward, and their gazes calm yet chilling.

Snap—

Leon casually snapped his fingers. “What are you standing out there for? Come on in and take a seat.”

Noa took a step forward, and suddenly a faint electric current flickered all over her body.

Left with no alternative, Scott could only shuffle back awkwardly into the room, taking a seat beside Nacho.

Leon observed Nacho dispassionately, letting his unease rise to the surface.

After a moment of silence, Leon spoke in a low voice. “I know you might be curious about why I'm still alive, but I don't have much time to explain this to you. Now, I need you to tell me where the Empire is keeping the Heart-Guarding Dragon Scale.”

Leon's tone was calm, yet it carried an inexorable force that pushed Nacho’s fear to its peak.

Nacho opened his mouth, intending to stall for time, hoping to delay long enough for the Dagger Trio to arrive.

Whether Leon is as powerful as he was back then or not, in front of the Sharp Dagger Trio, he was nothing more than a vulnerable ant.

But—

Nacho froze momentarily, staring at Leon’s face in shock. He was startled to find that this guy's appearance was exactly the same as it was twenty years ago, showing no sign of aging at all.

Could it be...... He also had undergone a transplant—

“Nacho, we’re all old friends here. Why waste time here?”

Leon stood up, walking slowly to stand behind Nacho and Scott.

Thud—

He slapped Nacho and Scott on the shoulders with both hands.

Scott’s entire body trembled under the heavy pounding.

Nacho, however, remained staring straight ahead, motionless.

"All right, in that case, I'll have no choice but to take some tough measures."

“Leon, you—”

A swift chop struck Nacho on the neck, plunging him into unconsciousness.

“S-sir, are—are you alright—?”

“Oh, I forgot you.”

Another chop struck, and Scott collapsed onto the dining table alongside his Lord Nacho .

Leon hefted the unconscious two onto his shoulders, positioning one on either side.

Noa and Muen also entered the room.

“The Dagger Trio is here. Let's get out of here quickly.”

“Got it.”

The group swiftly exited the dining room, slipping out through the rear entrance of the Hisna Estate.

Aurora had already prepared the carriage. Once everyone was aboard, she whipped the reins, and the carriage sped off into the distance.