---

"Maybe men. Money. Tools. Materials. Equipment if they prove worth supplying. Information if I feel generous."

Bat Bat made a face. "That sounds less like a game and more like badly raised children setting a city on fire."

Mihos looked toward the carriage side for the first time with open irritation. "Who is she? Why is she here?"

Bat Bat brightened. "I am Bat Bat. I am here because I am politically important to my master."

"She is my problem," Sekhmet said before anyone else could answer.

That somehow satisfied no one but Bat Bat and ended that branch of the conversation anyway.

Mihos looked back at Sekhmet. "You want the box. Fine. Earn it."

Seraphiel folded her arms. "Explain the terms before I decide whether to hit you or not."

That was the closest thing to consent he was likely to get from her.

Mihos took it.

"The game will take place against Iron House." His tone sharpened into something cleaner now that he was building structure around his cruelty. "They will know they are being used, but not fully how. They will understand only that they are permitted support so long as they try to erase you."

Sekhmet listened to him without showing any kind of expression.

Inside him, however, something had already changed. Iron House, support, resources, direct conflict, no main-line intervention, prizes at the end. The arrangement was ugly. Which meant it was also useful to him.

"A hunting game," his mind thought immediately.

Not entertainment.

Terrain.

Targets for practice. Assets if he finds something useful. It will be his lesser vampires testing ground. Bats. Ghouls. The twins. And Lily. And if Iron House had anything or anyone worth taking, he would take it.

Mihos continued. "There will be stages."

That interested Seraphiel despite herself. Stephen too. Not because the game sounded wise. Because structure meant they could force rules into it.

"Three stages," Mihos said. "Enough to make it interesting. Not enough to turn it into a war that spills stupidity all over the city."

He raised one finger.

"First stage. Territory. Iron House will attempt to seize, poison, burn, or bankrupt lower Dawn house (Sekhmet) operations in the western and lower merchant districts. Your goal is to stop them, break their push, and identify their active lines. You fail if you lose three core business sites or if they force you into public collapse."

Second finger.

"Second stage. Blood debt. Their chosen killers, contractors, and house enforcers will be sent at you or those under you. Your goal is not only to survive. It is to hunt them, break them, and remove their operational peoples. Their goal is to do the same to you."

Third finger.

"Final stage. House cut." His smile thinned. "You push directly into Iron House holdings and remove the core that remains. Leadership, treasury, key bloodline personnel, hidden stock, whatever they value enough to guard properly. They will do the same to you if they can reach it."

That last part sharpened the road. This was not sparring. Not staged duels. Not noble nonsense with spectators and bandages after.

Killing would absolutely be involved. Better that way. He could take what or whoever he wants and kill / make food from the rest of them.

Bat Bat looked quietly delighted and disturbed at once.

The three fan-girl maids had gone completely still in a new way now. This, at least, was a language they understood. Not politics. But Campaign. And Hunt. Retaliation dressed in rules.

Mihos went on, because of course he would.

"At the end, if you are still standing and Iron House is sufficiently broken, you receive the box." He turned it once more in his fingers. "That includes the time, the location, the permission to step onto Dawn family land under summons, and Grandfather’s official words in written seal."

"And if I lose," Sekhmet asked.

Mihos’s smile returned. "Then you do not receive anything but death from them."

It was simple. It was cruel. But it was useful.

Sekhmet let the terms move through him.

Three stages. Time enough to train with live pressure. Time enough to use his lower force properly. Time enough to let Raka and his newly made lesser vampires feed, learn, and turn criminal stock into a hidden blood resource.

Time enough to test Lily’s growth in the field, perhaps not in full exposure at first but in controlled edges.

Time enough to use the summon bats. The ghouls. The twins. The hidden routes. The Void Land. The growing bloodline.

His mind had already moved there too.

Useful prisoners. Useful women. Useful blood stock. Useful secrets.

He would not merely defeat them. He would harvest them. The entire iron house.

Seraphiel saw the change in his face and understood it for exactly what it was.

"He’s considering it," she thought.

Of course he is. He is the MC of the story. The true ruler of blood. The future Blood God.

She stepped in again before Mihos could mistake the silence for a victory.

She said, "The answer should be no."

Sekhmet’s eyes shifted to her.

Seraphiel met them directly.

"This is your family using lower blood and merchant hatred as play. Do not flatter him by acting as if it is more honorable than that."

Mihos looked bored. "You say that as though honor matters."

"Not to you," she said. "That has always been the problem."

Then she turned fully to Sekhmet.

"You do not need to accept terms from a bored heir to prove anything. Just say no to him."

That was true. It was also an opportunity for training, Sekhmet knew that. He was thinking about accepting it. Then he answered calmly, "Maybe not."

Seraphiel heard the shape under those two words and nearly closed her eyes.

Because yes. He was going to accept. Not because Mihos was worthy. Because the game itself had already become useful to him.

Sekhmet spoke before she could stop the thought from becoming a decision.

"I agree."

The road changed again. Kess’s heart skipped a beat. Stephen exhaled once through his nose. He was impressed by the first young master’s son. Eyra’s son. Sekhmet got guts.