Founder Of The Greatest Noble Family-Chapter 72:Clearing Distrust

Erina stood still for a moment beneath Roland’s unwavering gaze, her eyes flickering with a mixture of guilt and lingering pride. Then, without hesitation, she bent forward slightly, her hands clenched by her side in formality and respect.

"I apologize, Baron Roland," she said clearly.

"For making things difficult. But as you know, in times like this... one must always remain vigilant."

Her tone was firm but honest. She wasn’t groveling. She was simply admitting what was right, and Roland respected that.

He didn’t hesitate either. He gave a short nod and waved his hand gently.

"It’s alright, Lady Erina. I understand completely.I would have also reacted the same way you did."

Anyone with a brain would act like that unlike the book where people just fawn and are surprised when a low key person suddenly comes out stronger.

"In fact, you’ve been fighting hard for the Southern region. I should be the one thanking you."

Erina smiled slightly, the tension between them finally dissolving. "That’s only because of the information you sent to my father. He trusted that lead—and it helped us root out so much rot. You have no idea how valuable that was."

Roland felt the weight of her gratitude settle on him. She wasn’t exaggerating. The cultist purge had only started after his intelligence reached Count Wellington.

Their conversation wandered after that, no longer sharp with suspicion or formality. They discussed strategy, the problems plaguing the frontier villages, and shared stories of battle and politics. Erina, who had appeared so severe and iron-clad, opened up more with each passing hour. Roland, with his quiet confidence and clarity of thought, intrigued her.

Five days passed quickly.

The day she departed, Erina rode off in her standard black armor, a red cloak fluttering behind her. As she crossed the hill beyond the estate, her figure disappeared beneath the morning mist.

Janet stood at the edge of the balcony, arms folded loosely under her chest, watching the silhouette fade.

After a long silence, she turned to Roland and pursed her lips slightly. "The young maiden seemed to have fallen for you, husband."

Roland let out a hearty laugh and stepped forward, wrapping an arm around her waist. "My lady," he whispered playfully in her ear, "are you jealous?"

Janet didn’t speak at first. Her eyes flicked to the horizon, but her body leaned into his touch. She knew Roland too well. Knew he saw through her every emotion. And she also knew Erina wasn’t just any noble girl. She was strong, proud, and carried the blood of the Wellingtons.

Roland’s voice dropped, deep and calming.

"Lana is a soldier... despite her condition. Erina comes from a powerful noble family. If I were to marry her, she’d technically have a higher status."

He paused, studying her side profile.

"And I know you, Janet. You’d step down if I asked."

Janet’s shoulders tensed.

"But," Roland continued, turning her around to face him, "you don’t need to."

He placed his forehead gently against hers.

"No matter who comes into this household, you will always be the main wife. The heart of it. My beginning."

"Husband..." Janet’s eyes turned glassy, overwhelmed by his words and that unwavering gaze. Her hands slid up to his shoulders before she pounced into his arms and kissed him deeply, fiercely.

Roland smirked as the kiss broke. "A kiss won’t do," he murmured, voice deepening.

Janet blinked. "Then?"

"It’s time," he said with a devilish smile. "Time to pin down all of you at once."

Janet’s face flushed crimson. Her body trembled against his. He had teased them before, yes—hints and glances, flirty whispers—but never acted. He had always held back.

Until now.

This time, his voice was different.It was steady and serious.

There was no hesitation.

Janet backed off a step, flustered and shaking slightly. "I... we might need some time..."

"You have ample time," Roland replied with a grin, stepping away and leaving her breathless.

...

Moments later, Roland entered his study room, the soft scent of ink and wax hanging in the air. He sat down at his broad desk, parchment already laid out in stacks.

Roan arrived quietly, saluting with a single fist to his chest.

"My lord, the intelligence network has been assembled. Here is the report," he said, handing over several bound scrolls.

Roland read in silence, flipping page after page. Names. Ranks. Locations. Records. Movements. Dozens of trained individuals embedded across villages and minor towns, slowly spinning a web of informants and shadow eyes.

After several long minutes, he finally looked up.

"It’s not enough," Roland said flatly.

Roan blinked. "What’s not enough?"

"This network," Roland replied, tapping a finger on the scroll. "They’re good. But not loyal enough. Not yet. We’re dealing with cults, corruption, and foreign influences. Trained spies are smart but too smart. They will calculate benefits unless we raise them young."

He leaned back in his chair.

"It’s tricky to handle such people. Some will break the moment danger looms. Some will sell information if offered a higher price."

Roan narrowed his eyes. "Then what do you plan to do?"

Roland rose from his seat slowly. His presence began to shift—the air grew cold. The pressure that had lain dormant since his breakthrough suddenly erupted like a storm.

With a low hum, the floor beneath them trembled.

"I think," Roland said calmly, "I need to show off a little."

The aura around him turned darker, colder. It didn’t crush Roan, but it pressed in like a mountain. All warmth was gone, replaced with a chilling force that felt ancient and unknowable.

Mana contract might force them but what he needed was their submission from the bottom of their heart.

Roan took an instinctive step back, his heart pounding.

Roland’s voice rang like steel in a forge.

"If we want loyalty... then fear, respect, and reverence must all be planted together. They need to understand—" his eyes gleamed sharply, "—that betraying me is like betraying death itself."

The study lights flickered briefly.

Roan swallowed hard... and smiled.

"Yes, my lord," he whispered. "I understand completely."