Return to the estate

Bart Vanderbilt walked out of the meeting room feeling drained in both mind and body.

He had to catch a carriage deep in the night to bring him to their guest house outside of town.

As he stepped inside, some of his maids and butlers greeted him, but he only offered a curt greeting before heading straight into the master bedroom.

He opened the door and saw that his wife, Lylia Vanderbilt, had just finished bathing herself in the washroom. A soft, amazing floral scent clung to her body, pleasant enough to erase the stress and fatigue in his mind.

"Honey, this Reborn soap and shampoo is as amazing as they say!" Lylia praised as she dried off her hair with a towel.

"Honey, you know they're our competitor, right?" Bart let out a wry chuckle.

Even though the Reborn company's influence was starting to affect their business, he couldn't help but praise their amazing products. His wife was obsessed with their cleaning products, while he himself was also a fan of Reborn chess.

"You don't actually care about that, right?" Lylia teased, snuggling into his arms.

Bart smiled. "Not really. As long as we have enough money to live comfortably, I am more than content with this life. I have no desire to compete with my brothers and sisters for the entire Vanderbilt fortune."

Lylia smiled and hugged him even tighter in their bed. This was the very reason she loved him in the first place.

"Can we go home soon? I miss my dear boy so much…"

It had been almost four long months since she last held Michael since she last pinched his adorable cheeks and she was starting to feel unbearable.

"We'll be home soon," Bart promised. "As soon as this business with the Reborn company is settled, we will leave."

The two went silent for a moment, letting the candles flicker in their room.

"Honey, I'm worried about what will happen to our dear Michael."

Bart took a deep breath. Since he had decided that he wasn't going to fight for the inheritance, it meant that Michael wouldn't have the same financial support as he did now.

After all, once the inheritance was given to someone else, they would control all the business of the Vanderbilt family, including the ones that Bart was currently managing.

This meant that Michael wouldn't have much of an inheritance to take when he got older.

This was one of the main reasons why Bart worked hard every second of every day. He wanted to build at least a sizable inheritance for Michael to receive, to ensure his son's future—even if it meant that he would have to work away from home all the time and have no time to spend with him in his childhood.

"The money I saved up will be enough to get him through life without having to pay for anything," Bart assured her. "All his school or training expenses—anything he will ever need."

But this did nothing to alleviate a mother's worry.

"Still… I want Michael to have the best life in this world. He's a Vanderbilt—he shouldn't have to worry about money at all. Is there anything we can do so that your father will save at least some of the inheritance for our Michael?"

Michael had many relatives who were much older than him, meaning that if his grandfather did leave some inheritance, it would only go to his older relatives.

But if there was one thing Bart knew about his father, it was that he valued skill above anything else.

"There is a way… if Michael shows some kind of talent in swordsmanship, magic, or anything else, then my father would have a reason to leave him a sizable inheritance."

However, impressing the man who had built the Vanderbilt name from nothing was a hard task to accomplish.

If Michael wanted to impress his grandfather and stand out, he would have to be a genius of unparalleled caliber.

"He has my genes. He's bound to be talented in Earth magic," Lylia said, hope gleaming in her eyes.

"Yes dear," Bart murmured as he ran a comforting hand through her hair.

Even though he said that he knew that the chances of Michael becoming an unparalleled genius in Earth magic were slim to none. 

Even possessing the potential to become a 6-star mage wouldn't be enough—Michael would need to have the potential of a 7-star wizard.

But even geniuses failed to reach that stage.

Their only hope lay in his awakening once he turned ten years old. Only then would his true talent manifest—and hopefully, it would be enough to impress his grandfather.

_____

Days passed and life finally settled down enough for Bart and Lydia to return to their estate.

They had been away from their home for a total of four and a half months, but for Lydia, it felt like years. Her fingers impatiently drummed against the carriage's window as they rolled through the forest. Then, as the trees began to thin, she finally caught a glimpse of their home from afar.

Her smile widened with anticipation as she imagined her dear Michael welcoming her home with a big hug.

But as she gazed at their mansions from afar, her smile slowly curved back down.

Even though the estate looked superficially the same as it did when she had left, it felt like everything had changed. There was a certain atmosphere in the air, something that she couldn't quite explain.

Her motherly senses were tingling with unease. She was feeling jealous of something even though she hadn't even seen what was wrong yet.

"Is something the matter?" Bart asked.

Lydia then pointed out the window. "Did you ask someone to create that strange-looking building?"

By the side of the mansion stood a stone structure, which had steam rising from the inside.

Bart narrowed his eyes and noticed the hot springs as well.

"No. I didn't order anyone to build that. I don't even know that that is."

They were so close to the mansion at this point that they could see the maids and the butlers lining up near the entrance to welcome them back from their long journey.

Seeing their heads down in what seemed like nervous anticipation, Bart and Lydia knew that something suspicious was going on.

The carriage slowly came to a stop and the two stepped out.

"Welcome home, sir and madame!" the maids and butlers greeted in unison.

Lydia ignored them and immediately asked the most important question.

"Where's my little boy?"