The Scott family mansion stood as a colossal structure, a beacon of their unmatched influence in the East.
Even the front gate was a masterpiece, adorned with towering dragon pillars and guardian kylins that looked almost alive.
A massive, ten-meter iron gate loomed ahead, covered in intricate carvings, with the name “Scott Mansion” emblazoned above-a single glance at the grand architecture was enough to know this was a family of true power.
Just past the gate, two rows of well-disciplined men formed an impressive lineup leading up to the main hall.
Each of them stood with a straight back, pride in their expressions, clearly trained to perfection.
At the hall’s entrance stood a gathering of people, their faces showing a mix of eagerness, impatience, and nerves.
An older man paced at the entrance, leaning on a cane, his face stern. Dressed in a red suit, his bald head gleamed while his sides showed a rim of white hair, and his sharp, predatory gaze revealed his ruthlessness-this was Jason Scott.
Beside him stood a young woman, likely in her early twenties, in jeans and looking fresh-faced, supporting him with complete patience.
At eighty, Jason Scott had seen it all, but thoughts of his grandson Kayden Scott still weighed heavily on his mind.
He’d assumed the events fifteen years ago would ruin the boy, but instead, they’d forged him into a warrior who had shaken all of Seclela.
Titles like Supreme Warlord, Undefeated of His Time, the Nation’s Shield-whenever he heard these names, he couldn’t help but proudly think, That’s my grandson, a son of the Scott family.
Though Kayden returned with nothing but resentment, Jason was still both anxious and eager to see him.
He took a few steps, paused to look toward the gate, and, not seeing Kayden yet, resumed pacing. Ann Scott, the young woman beside him, matched his every step, her face calm and dutiful.
A woman with light makeup, looking around forty but well-kept, muttered irritably, “Is the old man out of his mind? All this fuss just to wait for some disgraceful relative? Making the whole family stand around in the heat, like he’s some big shot.”
Next to her, another woman shielded her eyes from the sun, adding, “Seriously, it’s boiling out here! This sunscreen is useless. If I’d known, I’d have worn long pants. I’m probably going to spend ages on skincare after this-so annoying.” She idly ran her hand down her legs, covered in black stockings, a simple gesture that exuded elegance and allure.
Looking around, it was clear-the women here were beautiful and striking, and the men well-groomed and poised, each embodying the high standards of the Scott family.
“Be careful what you say. He’s the young commander now and our future head,” scoffed an older woman, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“A commander? Please,” the first woman sneered. “If it weren’t for the Scott family, he’d be nothing. We should’ve handled him fifteen years ago.”
“Quiet!” said a middle-aged man in a low voice. “You’re playing with fire.”
The lightly made-up woman shot back, “Why? It’s sweltering out here, and the old man has lost it, dragging us all out just to wait around for that kid. It’s enough to drive anyone crazy.”
The woman in stockings asked, “So, is he really planning to make Kayden the young lord?”
“Shush! If someone hears you…” warned the man, casting a worried glance.
Suddenly, Jason Scott halted and turned, his piercing gaze sweeping over them like a hawk hunting prey.
Instantly, the two women snapped to attention, straightening up with forced innocence, their faces betraying subtle fear. Just a look from the old man had them both spooked.
“Brodie Scott,” Jason called out, his tone commanding, “try calling Carson again. Find out how long until they get here.”
Brodie, a handsome young man around twenty-five with an air of nobility, was Kayden’s cousin and the son of Kayden’s third uncle, Vicente Scott.
Brodie hadn’t had a chance to reply when his father, Vicente, spoke up, “Dad, we just called. Carson said they’d be here in ten minutes; it’s only been three. Let’s just wait a bit.”
Before he finished, Neve Delaney, a woman in black stockings and Vicente’s wife, added, “Yes, Dad, don’t stress. They’re coming. The setup we’ve prepared is more than enough; there’s no need to worry.”
Another woman named Julian chimed in, “Exactly, Dad. He’s going to be thrilled that you’re making him the young lord! Honestly, he should thank you. Without what you did back then, he wouldn’t have achieved this much today. Sometimes, things just work out like that. What seems bad ends up…”
“Enough!” Jason roared, slamming his cane into the ground. His sudden outburst silenced everyone, the two women from earlier trembling as Julian faltered, her face pale.
Jason’s fierce glare fixed on her, and he spat his words with cold fury, “From now on, anyone who dares bring up that incident again will face my wrath! Conrad Scott, control your wife.”
He turned his gaze on a man in a traditional suit, who glared warningly at Julian in response.