My Magic Has No Upper Limit

"You and I are the same. We both carry the noble blood of the Wenmier Clan! We should both be willing to fight for our family’s honor, no matter the cost!"

"Yes..." Spencer replied in a low voice.

"Do you remember the promise I made to you?"

Vance’s gaze grew fiery as he stared directly into Spencer’s eyes.

"After I get the money from them and restore Rose Castle."

"At the grand completion ceremony, I will announce to everyone that you, Spencer Wenmir, are a new member of the Wenmier Clan!"

"Then you’ll finally be able to shed the title of a bastard son. Isn’t that what you’ve always dreamed of?"

Hearing Vance’s words, the hesitation on Spencer’s face finally began to fade.

His expression grew determined.

Spencer had always lived under the shadow of being an illegitimate son.

Though he and Vance shared the same father, his mother was merely a humble maidservant.

An illegitimate son not only had no right of inheritance, but he didn’t even have the status of being officially recognized by the clan. His very existence was a disgrace to the family.

Vance’s promise was the very dream Spencer had craved his entire life.

"I understand!" Spencer replied loudly.

"Excellent!"

Vance clapped Spencer firmly on the shoulder, his eyes filled with brotherly gratification.

"I promise you, this is the last time. After we offer up this batch of sacrifices, I will have no further contact with them."

Vance’s voice was filled with Power.

"And you will join me in personally forging a glorious new Chapter in our family’s history!"

"I won’t let you down!" Spencer nodded forcefully.

After Spencer left the drawing-room, the fanatical look on Vance’s face gradually faded.

His face became cold once more, as if his passionate display just moments ago was nothing but a false illusion.

"Sangmik," Vance said flatly.

"Present, my lord." Sangmik, the butler who had been standing in a dark corner, slowly stepped out.

"You may now go and draft the missive to the Black Stone Town Adventurer’s Association."

Vance walked to the table, poured himself a glass of wine, and said coldly.

"Be polite in your wording. Say something like..."

"Our clan deeply regrets the unfortunate demise of this brave Adventurer Squad. However, the Demon was ferocious, and it was truly beyond human capability to defeat."

"Yes, my lord." Sangmik bowed and withdrew.

The entire drawing-room was left with only Vance.

The clouds parted, completely revealing the bright full moon hidden behind them.

Silvery light shone through the massive stained-glass window, casting a cold, frost-white patch upon the carpet.

Vance slowly paced to the window.

His gaze traveled into the distance, toward Rose Castle in the dark of night.

’The night of a full moon is the perfect time to offer a sacrifice...’

Vance raised his glass, toasting the distant Ancient Castle before draining it in one gulp.

The alcohol chased away the chill, and his thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to six months ago.

It was on a similarly bleak and cold night that he had sat in his study, a look of utter dejection on his face.

Back then, he had just inherited this clan, one that was glamorous on the outside but had long been rotten to the core.

Faced with the mountain of bills, collection letters, and deficit reports piled on his desk, Vance had been crushed to the point of suffocation, sinking into utter despair.

He had once been full of ambition, believing that his business acumen and vigorous efforts would be enough to revitalize his declining family.

But reality was a hundred times crueler than he had imagined.

Vance encountered too many insurmountable Difficulties.

The grain trade in the southern Kingdom was monopolized by a coalition of several deeply entrenched old noble families, leaving him no way to get a foothold.

The few small mines the clan had invested in were producing less and less due to years of over-extraction, and they were on the verge of depletion.

He had tried to secure a loan from the banks in the Royal Capital to improve his cash flow.

But all he received was a polite yet contemptuous refusal—no one was willing to invest in a sinking family.

Vance couldn’t even remember how he had ended up in this situation.

Last month, just to pay the salaries of all the servants and guards at the manor, he’d even had to secretly sell off his jewelry.

And there was still no way to cover next month’s expenses.

The creditors’ collection letters were piled high, and the tax revenue from his domain dwindled year by year.

Meanwhile, the family’s ridiculous "noble dignity" was like an invisible shackle, preventing him from engaging in less-than-reputable business like a common merchant.

’Is... is the Wenmier Clan really going to be completely ruined in my hands?’

Vance stared at his palm, his voice trembling.

"Perhaps you have a second option?" a low, hoarse voice suddenly rang out.

"Who’s there?!" Vance jumped, immediately looking toward the source of the voice.

The shadows beside the bookcase stirred.

A man completely shrouded in a black robe slowly stepped out.

It was as if he had been there all along, quietly observing everything.

"Guards! There’s—" Vance reflexively prepared to shout.

"Shhh..."

The man placed a finger to his lips. An invisible Power rippled out like water, suppressing Vance’s shout.

He tilted his head up slightly.

Though his face remained hidden in the shadows of his hood, his thin, somewhat cruel-looking lips were revealed.

"No need to be so nervous, and there’s no need to alert anyone."

The robed man’s voice was like a snake hissing.

"I’ve come here with no ill will toward you... I simply wish to offer you a choice."

"Who the hell are you? What do you want, sneaking into my study?"

Vance fought to suppress the fear in his heart, one hand pressing down on the letter opener on his desk.

"If you’ve come to rob me, you’ve chosen the wrong target!"

"Who I am is not important. What’s important is that I can help you out of your current predicament."

The man completely ignored Vance’s tense, guarded posture.

He moved like a ghost to the side of the desk, his posture relaxed and casual, as if he were the master of the house.

"Vance Wenmir, one of the foremost nobles in Falling Leaves Town."

The robed man recited the title, which sounded somewhat sarcastic.

"The once-illustrious Wenmier Clan is now on the verge of collapse, is it not?"

Vance’s cheeks tensed with anger and humiliation, and he didn’t reply.

"It’s normal to be wary of me. I don’t need you to trust me completely."

The man smiled, his thin lips curling into a slight arc. "I just want to make a deal with you. I hear you’re a smart man."

"What kind of deal?" Vance asked, forcing himself to sound calm.

"It’s simple. You provide us with what we need, and in return, we will help you restore the Wenmier Clan."

As he spoke, the man took a step back.

On the desk in front of him, a bulging cloth sack had appeared from out of nowhere.

Vance’s eyes widened slightly.

He looked at the robed man, his expression a mixture of shock and suspicion.

The robed man simply gave him a slight nod.

Vance then took two steps forward, reached out, opened the cloth sack just a little, and peeked inside.