Founder Of The Greatest Noble Family-Chapter 49:Calming Them Down

After silencing the Direwolves and ensuring the immediate threat was gone, Roland turned with grim focus toward the guards gathered near the wreckage.

His piercing eyes locked onto them.

"What is going on?" he asked, voice low but dangerously sharp.

"Why are there so many Direwolves out of nowhere?"

The guards stiffened, sweat rolling down their temples despite the cool wind. One of them hesitantly stepped forward, lowering his head.

"We... we don’t know, My Lord."

The temperature seemed to drop instantly.

"What?" Roland’s voice sharpened.

"What the hell do you mean you don’t know? What is the patrol team doing out there? Haven’t I asked.no... ordered—you all to maintain surveillance?"

His voice echoed like thunder, and with it, his aura erupted—a potent surge of power and murderous intent that pressed down like a mountain. The guards choked on air, many falling to one knee, their voices trembling.

"My lord, forgive us!"

"Please have mercy, Lord Roland!"

"We were negligent!"

Roland took a breath, forcing his fury to calm. But inside, his blood still boiled. His people had been endangered—his children could have died. A moment later, he might have been too late and had to take his son and daughter’s corpse.

Just thinking about this,his heart was set ablaze.

He looked at the unfinished walls and clenched his fists.

"I need to complete this wall. No more delay."

Turning back to the guards, his tone cold but composed:

"All guards will be fined two months’ salary."

There was a pause—a sting in the air.

"However, those—villagers and guards alike who showed bravery and helped defend others will be rewarded generously."

The guards looked up in disbelief.

"L-Lord is wise!"

"His judgment is beyond comparison!"

"Our Lord is truly just!"

"Even in wrath, our Lord’s mercy shines!"

The people started to praise pouring all sort of flattery.

Tears welled up in some of their eyes. A fine, even harsh, but nothing compared to the brutal floggings or life-threatening punishments they’d seen under other lords. In many noble territories, they would have lost their limbs—or their lives.

But Roland didn’t react to the praise. He wasn’t the type to bask in flattery. His mind was already ticking through strategies—walls, defenses, threats, motives. The attack had changed everything.

.....

Later, Roland returned home.

The manor’s lower floor was cloaked in silence, unnaturally so.

Everyone stood in line, heads bowed. Even the walls seemed to tremble under the weight of the moment.

He saw Janet, Priya, and Leila, their eyes filled with worry.

At the front stood Nil and Hilda, heads lowered in shame, while Nora and Noah clung to their mothers’ sides, peeking nervously.

Kara and the wounded Oren were already kneeling, pale from both fear and injuries.

Roan,, moved forward and began removing Roland’s blood-stained armor in silence. The metal clinked with each piece taken off.

No one dared speak—until Janet stepped forward, her voice soft yet pleading.

"Roland... I know you’re angry. I know they were careless. But please, don’t punish the children too harshly."

Roland raised a brow and gave her a questioning look.

His gaze shifted to Nil and Hilda.

The two immediately knelt.

"Father, we apologize deeply."

"It was our fault. We were careless. Please forgive us."

"We should have stayed back... we endangered the others..."

Their voices trembled, full of regret.

’Huh?’

Question marks over Roland’s face.When did he say he was going to punish them.

Roland glanced at Roan curiously.

The steward leaned close and whispered, "My lord, word of your fury at the wall’s failure has already spread. They’re frightened."

Roland’s lips twitched in annoyance.

He closed his eyes for a moment and then spoke, voice even.

"Everyone, stop this act. I am not angry at you."

Nil and Hilda froze, glancing up in disbelief.

But Roland’s face was different now. His expression was calm—but cold. A rare, unfamiliar side. To them, their father had always been gentle, warm—a man who smiled easily.

They had a brief knowledge of Kingdom power.Though no one know it but if Roland started showcasing his talent

But this... this was the man feared by generals and admired by kings.

They knew his power to rival the Dukes of Kingdom Jin, why even the King himself would hesitated to provoke him.

Roland saw their startled eyes and sighed, a helpless smile curling his lips.

"Truly, I’m not angry with you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just going about a routine inspection."

A chuckle escaped his lips.

The room relaxed tension melting like snow under the sun.

But then Roland’s tone turned firm again.

"Nil... Hilda... do you understand now? What does it means to be strong? What happens when you let your guard down for even a moment?"

They both nodded seriously.

He looked at Nora and Noah.

"And you two don’t think I don’t know. You’ve been slacking behind while I was away."

Nora bit her lip, and Noah bowed his head.

"Father, we will train harder!"

"Yes, Father. We won’t fall behind again!"

Their voices were loud, sincere.

Roland saw the fire ignite in their eyes and nodded in approval.

’Good... very good.’

He looked at his growing children—so full of life, so full of potential—and thought quietly:

"With so many children... it’s a full-time job just keeping you all in line. I only hope the older ones grow into strong pillars who can guide the rest."

......

Next day..

The training field of Apus Village was alive with sweat, steel, and the screams of exertion.

The sun bore down mercilessly on the open clearing where Roland’s children were being pushed beyond their limits. The once-lush grass had long since turned to trampled dirt under countless drills and sparring matches.

At the center of the field stood Sir Garneth, a stone-faced man in his late forties, a retired knight renowned for his brutal discipline and steel nerves. He was hand-picked by Roland for one task—to forge his children into warriors fit to survive what was coming.

"Again!" Sir Garneth barked, his voice slicing through the air like a whip.

Nil, shirt soaked in sweat, staggered to his feet after being thrown to the ground by a training dummy rigged with weighted arms. He gritted his teeth and ran again, dodging the first swing, blocking the second—then bam, another hit knocked him to the ground.

"Too slow!" Garneth roared. "You think your name will shield you in war? That beast will kill you before your little title can scream for help!"

On the side, Hilda was locked in a sparring match with Kara. She was panting, bruises on her arms, but her green eyes burned with fury and refusal to give up. Kara pressed hard, her strikes relentless, but Hilda blocked, twisted—and managed a counter slash.

"Good!" Kara nodded. "But if I had been faster, you’d be bleeding. Now go again!"

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