"So… your meaning is…?"
Chairman Stran swallowed, speaking with difficulty.
When he heard Dean Andrew's words, an even worse premonition rose in his heart.
Perhaps what Andrew was about to say was the real reason he had summoned them here today.
"Nothing complicated."
Dean Andrew swept a calm gaze across everyone present and said evenly,
"The reason that fool Sherlock managed to lose all of our liquid capital in this turmoil was because someone else intervened behind the scenes.
Otherwise, a full one hundred million gold coins would not have been locked in so completely.
So—I need to know everything that person did during this crisis."
"Y-You know, our Merchant Guild—"
Chairman Stran began instinctively, but after only a few words, he met Andrew's icy stare and obediently shut his mouth.
For a moment, he didn't even know whether he was permitted to speak.
The meeting room fell silent once more—so quiet that the faint breathing of those present could be heard.
Within that silence, all eight felt as though invisible hands had seized their hearts. Fine beads of sweat gathered on their foreheads.
Only when they were nearly unable to endure it any longer did Andrew finally speak coldly:
"Baron Stran Yulmis, you should understand that the only reason you are still alive and standing before me is because the Yulmis family behind you is a collateral branch of the Ymir royal house.
I am showing your family respect. But that does not give you the right to act recklessly in front of me.
Surely even the Yulmis family would not oppose me for the sake of a mere second-tier waste like you."
Faced with Andrew's naked mockery, Stran lowered his head. Beneath the table, his fists clenched tightly.
But outwardly, he remained deferential.
"You are correct, Lord Andrew."
"It's good that you understand."
Andrew cast him a casual glance and continued:
"All of you here experienced the economic crisis three days ago.
You lost quite a bit, didn't you?
If I recall correctly, many of your forefathers were among Savant's earliest merchants.
And it was under the leadership of our Magina Academy that, together with them, we built Savant's financial market—bringing prosperity to the Kingdom of Savant.
Yet now, a petty provincial noblewoman named Tina Gam has destroyed all of it.
A lowly outsider, using her disgraceful little tricks, secretly orchestrated this economic disaster and harvested vast quantities of Savant's gold.
What she damaged was not merely our wealth—but patriotic merchants who devoted their lives to Savant, and the countless families who depended on their enterprises.
One could say she has openly shaken the very foundation of Savant.
It is a vile criminal act aimed at subverting the nation itself."
Although the eight others felt his words somewhat exaggerated, none dared interrupt. They listened in silence.
"Even if some evil academy stands behind her, that does not erase her crimes.
Therefore, Chairman Stran, I require you to compile all evidence of this criminal's offenses and submit it to the Kingdom's Supreme Court.
Even if we have yet to select a new king, our kingdom is not some soft target to be bullied by outsiders."
After finishing his speech, Andrew glanced around once more. Seeing that none dared speak, he gave a faint shake of his head.
"You may go."
At once, the group scattered like startled birds, leaving the office one by one with careful steps.
Soon only Dean Andrew remained, staring quietly at the burning Soul-Scorching Lantern.
His thoughts drifted far away.
He recalled his youth—when, in pursuit of greater power, he traveled alone to the Sother Royal Magic Academy.
By the time he returned, having completed his studies, his good friend had already inherited the throne.
That brother, whose talent had once been inferior to his own, had reached equal strength through the kingdom's vast resources.
For Andrew—who had struggled desperately just to reach the Fifth Tier—it nearly shattered his faith in the path of power.
So much so that when his royal cousin later suppressed him at every turn, Andrew remained unmoved.
It was only when an elder of the clan recognized his talent and poured resources into him that he finally broke through to the Sixth Tier.
And the very moment he advanced, Andrew secretly pinned that royal cousin beneath the pond in the palace garden and drowned him alive.
Yet when the clan elders discovered the truth the next day, not one of them said a word.
Only then did Andrew understand:
Identity and status were worthless before strength.
His cousin had dared to oppress him not because he was king—but because he possessed power equal to Andrew's former Fifth-Tier self.
And the elders did not defend the dead man for a simple reason: a dead Fifth-Tier powerhouse was worth far less than a living Sixth-Tier one.
As he aged and experienced more, Andrew shed the impulsiveness of youth.
But that did not mean he had become a toothless tiger.
On the contrary, with wisdom added to power, he had become even more terrifying—
So terrifying that even the strongest dean of Skoll Academy avoided provoking him.
So would a newly advanced Sixth-Tier, who had relied on academy resources to force a breakthrough only a few years prior, truly dare to move against him?
Thus, Andrew felt no concern whatsoever about taking action against Tina.
The only reason he still intended to proceed through legal channels was because his current position demanded a certain reputation.
Just as Andrew was contemplating how to send Tina to the gallows—
The office doors were suddenly flung open.
A middle-aged man in the robes of a Mechanical Academy instructor rushed in, panic written across his face.
"Teacher! This is bad—our factory workers have all run off!"