Founder Of The Greatest Noble Family

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "And what's that?"

"I want a child with strong potential," Roland said plainly.

She blinked, stunned by the bluntness. "Don't you already have children?"

"I do," Roland admitted. "But my wives are only around 1st and 2nd rank. The highest is a 4th-rank mage."

He looked down for a moment, then met her gaze again. "If I want to leave behind a strong legacy… It's hard with that. If I force the children to use potions or methods too early, it might hurt their bodies or shorten their lives."

Amelia stared at him in disbelief. Her mouth fell open, and her voice rose slightly.

"You..… How can you do that.You're too careless! Don't you understand how dangerous that is?" she scolded. "You can live for 200 years, but what about them? Your wives? Your children? Can you watch them die one by one while you keep living?"

Roland scratched his head, confused. 'Wasn't this about marriage? Why is she suddenly scolding me?'

"Senior… I was just around 4th rank when I married," he said meekly.

"Who knew after years I would reach here?"

Amelia's lips parted again. She was too shocked to speak for a few seconds. After a moment, she took a breath and looked at him with a thoughtful expression.

"I'm willing to go to Apus City and teach," she said. "But as for marrying you… I need to watch you first. I want to see how you govern your people. I can't just agree right away. And if you try anything vile or forceful… I'll kill myself."

Roland raised both hands in panic.

"Senior! I'm not that kind of man! I swear—I won't ever force you or trick you. I can even take an oath!"

Amelia gave a small grunt of approval.

With that, she had given her answer. Roland quickly gave orders to prepare for her journey.

...

Roland didn't return to the inn, rather he went shopping to buy gifts for kids and other things.

He spent heavily.

The family enjoyed the vacation but Roland couldn't be with them always so he just allowed them to enjoy themselves.

The sun was still high over the place when Roland received the message from the local guard.

He had just sat down to enjoy a brief moment of peace, sipping herbal tea while glancing over the expenditure list , when the words shattered the air like thunder.

"Sir… Young Master Nil and Young Master Noah have entered a gambling den."

The cup slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor as Roland leapt to his feet.

"What?!"

His voice echoed through the hall like a whip crack. His face twisted as though he had stepped on something foul. He blinked rapidly, unable to believe what he had just heard. Of all the things… gambling?

Roland had been strict—he'd taught them morals, discipline, and the value of self-restraint. He had even hired a local city guard to shadow his children quietly from afar, just in case they got into trouble.

And now? A gambling den?His kids went to gambling den.

"Fucking hell…"

Before he could storm out, his youngest daughter, Nora, looked up from her drawing with a curious tilt of her head.

"Father… what is a gambling den?"

Roland froze, caught between fury and awkwardness. Sweat began to trickle down his forehead as he forced a smile.

"That… uh… is a very bad place, filled with very bad people," he said slowly, trying to find the right words without planting the wrong ideas in her young mind. "I'll go get your brothers. You two stay here. Don't open the door for anyone."

He usually left Nil in charge, trusting his maturity and cool-headedness. But now, that trust felt like a cracked mirror. What if Nil was the one who led them in? What if something worse happened?

Feeling cornered, he quickly called for Amelia using the inn messengers.

She arrived promptly, sword at her hip and expression cool as ever.

"What's the matter, Roland?" she asked with a hint of impatience.

"Senior… please take care of the children," Roland said, trying to keep his voice calm. "Nil and Noah have entered a gambling den. I need to get them out before something happens."

Amelia's brows shot up slightly. She turned to the guard who had followed Roland inside.

"Where exactly?"

"It's called 'Smith and Wason Games,' located in the Back Alley district."

Amelia's expression darkened. Her eyes narrowed, and a shadow fell over her face.

"I see…" she muttered, her voice cold.

Roland turned sharply. "What do you mean by that?"

"That place is backed by nobles," she explained, voice sharp. "A front for many underhanded dealings. Countless naive idiots are lured in, especially youngsters. It's a trap painted in gold. I've long wanted to tear it down, but… some powerful hands are shielding it."

Disgust twisted her lips. " Roland, go and bring them back before it's too late.I will watch over the children's "

Roland gave a sharp nod and turned, calling for Argon.

They moved fast through the streets, pushing past startled bystanders. The further they went into the Back Alley, the worse the air grew. The stench of cheap perfume, liquor, and unwashed sweat clung to every corner.

With each step, Roland's rage simmered hotter.

Rows of shady brothels, filthy taverns, and makeshift gambling shacks lined the narrow street. Drunken laughter spilled out of open doors. Lurid signs hung crookedly, some glowing with magical runes. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles cracked.

"Bastards…" he muttered under his breath.

"Even when I served the army, surrounded by whores and filth, I never stepped inside a brothel. Even when they cornered me, I ran away like a coward. And you—my sons—you dare walk into this hell?"

His voice was trembling with restrained fury. "If I find either of you enjoying this filth… I'll break your damn legs myself."

Argon, usually unshaken, glanced at Roland and felt an involuntary shiver crawl up his back.

He had seen Roland fights But this?

His quiet fury was something else. He stayed silent, following close.

They turned a corner and came to a sign painted in gold: Smith and Wason Games.

Roland's eyes blazed.

Without a second thought, he shoved open the door.

The inside was worse than the outside. Tables littered with cards and dice, men laughing, arguing, yelling, women clinging to drunk gamblers, and coin bags being passed like bread. The smell was sickening.

Then…

"Father! Save us!"

A panicked scream.

Roland's heart stopped. His head snapped toward the sound, eyes scanning the room.

And there they were—Nil and Noah, held by two rough-looking men near the back, partially shielded by a crowd. A tall dealer stood in front of them, sneering, while a few more thugs formed a wall.