Chapter 6: The Grand Scheme

The grand chambers of House Eryx were filled with hushed voices and palpable tension. Asher had gathered his trusted advisors and ministers around a long, dark oak table. The dim light from the chandeliers cast long shadows, and the heavy weight of the situation pressed down on everyone present. The news of the nobles' schemes to claim his estate had spread fast, and with it came a wave of fear and uncertainty.

The advisors, men and women once loyal to his father, now found themselves questioning their positions. Asher's rapid rise to power had startled them, and now, the looming threat from the other noble families left them trembling. Some had already begun whispering about leaving, deserting him in the face of impending danger.

Minister Olvar, a man of solid gray hair and sharp features, slammed his fist on the table, his voice trembling with fear. "Lord Asher, we cannot stand against them! These nobles are far more powerful than you can imagine. They have armies, alliances, and gold. You're… you're still too young to face them!"

"Yes," chimed in Lady Selene, a once-proud noblewoman who had served House Eryx for years. "Your father was ruthless, yes, but we are not the same. Your father built this empire through terror and violence, but we… we do not have that power anymore."

A murmur of agreement ran through the room, as several other advisors nodded in fear. Some even avoided meeting Asher's gaze, clearly contemplating deserting him to save their own skins.

But not all shared their doubts. Lord Garrick, a battle-hardened warrior with a grim expression, slammed his hand down on the table. His deep voice cut through the chaos. "Enough! We cannot afford to abandon House Eryx now. We are with you, Lord Asher. We will stand and fight."

"We can't just sit here and talk," Asher said, his voice calm but full of authority. He leaned forward, his eyes locking with those of his advisors. "You must not think like cowards. The other nobles want this estate—they will take it from us unless we act decisively. It's not just brute force we need; it's strategy. We'll show them that this house isn't built on violence alone."

The room fell silent. Asher's words had a strange power, though few knew what he had planned. He smiled, but it was a small, knowing grin that sent a ripple of unease through the room.

"I have a plan," he said, his voice low but commanding. "But I'm not going to tell you what it is just yet. I need you to prepare something for me—something to show the nobles we have nothing to hide. A celebration, a public recognition of my new position as heir to House Eryx. A grand party, one that will draw all the nobles to my doorstep."

The room erupted in confusion and hesitation. Lady Selene raised an eyebrow, her tone skeptical. "A party? A celebration in the midst of all this? You expect us to play the role of simpletons and invite our enemies to our doorsteps?"

Asher's grin widened. "Yes. A party. I'll give them something to talk about. But be prepared. Make it grand—make it known. I want every noble, every lord, and every lady in this kingdom to know that House Eryx is not a house to be trifled with."

The ministers and advisors exchanged looks, unsure of what exactly Asher was planning, but none dared question him directly. They had no choice but to obey. For better or for worse, Asher had taken the mantle of leadership—and it seemed he was about to turn the tables on the nobles who had already plotted his downfall.

---

The day of the grand celebration arrived, and the massive hall of House Eryx had been transformed into an opulent spectacle of gold, crimson, and black. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, and the scent of expensive wine and roasted meats filled the air. The nobles arrived in their finest attire, walking into the mansion with a mix of curiosity and disdain. They had heard rumors of Asher's plans, but none had truly expected him to host such a lavish event.

Asher stood at the center of the hall, his cloak flowing behind him, a glint of confidence in his eyes. The nobles murmured among themselves, still uncertain of his intentions. They knew that Asher was no fool—but they also knew he was not the same as his father. The question was, what would he do next?

It was then that Lord Varyon of the East approached him, his icy gaze fixed on Asher. "So, this is your attempt at diplomacy? Hosting a party to solidify your position?" Varyon sneered, his voice laced with condescension. "You think you can just waltz into power and expect us to accept you?"

Asher's grin remained unchanged. "I don't expect you to accept me, Varyon. I expect you to respect me."

The challenge in Asher's voice was unmistakable. Varyon's sneer deepened, but before he could respond, Asher raised a hand, signaling for the festivities to begin.

"I propose a wager," Asher declared loudly, his voice cutting through the chatter. "Let us see who among us truly deserves to lead."

The nobles grew silent. Asher's words had captured their attention.

Varyon stepped forward, clearly intrigued but also eager to undermine him. "What kind of wager are you suggesting, boy?"

"I suggest a duel. A bet of strength and skill," Asher said, his eyes scanning the room, making sure every noble present could hear him. "You, Varyon, as the oldest and most respected among us, can choose your heir, your champion, to represent your house in this duel. I will choose my own champion."

The nobles exchanged confused glances, unsure of where this would lead.

"You want me to choose someone to fight?" Varyon asked, laughing. "You're asking for humiliation. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

Asher's eyes narrowed, his voice steady but full of force. "Choose wisely, then. This will not be a simple duel—it will be one of honor, of will. If you can defeat me and my champion, I will step down as heir and allow you to claim House Eryx. But if I win…"

"Then you will not get House Eryx!" Varyon finished, his tone now cold and menacing.

Asher's grin returned. "Exactly."

---

The challenge was set, and all eyes turned to the two figures at the center of the hall: Lord Varyon's chosen heir, a hulking man named Jareth, and Asher, who stood with unshaken confidence.

The duel was fierce and brutal, each combatant showcasing their skill and prowess. Varyon's heir, Jareth, swung his massive sword with ruthless precision, his power unmatched by many in the room. But Asher, using nothing but his agility and tactical mind, dodged and countered, his movements smooth as water.

The audience was captivated, watching as the two titans clashed in a contest of strength and skill. But then, just as it seemed like Jareth had the upper hand, Asher saw an opening. He feinted left, causing Jareth to overcommit with a mighty swing. In that instant, Asher swept in, disarming him with one swift motion, and sent him crashing to the ground in defeat.

The room was silent, stunned by the unexpected turn of events. Lord Varyon's face turned red with fury as Asher stood over his fallen opponent, breathing heavily but victorious.

"Let it be known," Asher declared, his voice carrying through the hall, "House Eryx is not a house to be controlled by fear. We will stand united, and those who seek to tear us down will find themselves outmatched."

The nobles were left speechless, their schemes crumbling before them. And though they had underestimated Asher, they knew one thing for certain now: he was not to be taken lightly.

Asher had won not just the duel—but the respect of the very nobles who had once planned his downfall. And with that victory, his reign as the new head of House Eryx was solidified—at least, for now.