Many luxurious estates dotted the outskirts of Paris. Within one private manor built in the Empire style lay a hidden chef's table restaurant open only to those in the know, currently hosting its sole group of guests for the day. Outside the window, fine rain fell at an angle, striking the glass and leaving countless droplets that shimmered with the reflection of the indoor lights.

Vittorio Cesare sat by the window, dressed in a tailored dark suit that fit him perfectly, his hair combed back without a strand out of place, exuding the solemn authority distinctive of a godfather. He had been waiting for fifteen minutes, his fingers tapping the table with slight impatience. As the head of the Cesare Family, he rarely had to wait for anyone, especially not at such an important business meeting.

Beside him sat two subordinates: one a professional interpreter, the other an advisor for the Cesare Family's affairs in France. The fine dishes on the table had barely been touched, and a subtle tension hung in the air, weighing heavily on the subordinates' minds.

"Confirm once more. Mr. Morrison is certain to attend today?" Vittorio asked the advisor in Italian without turning his head.

The advisor nodded nervously, nearly reaching for his handkerchief to wipe away sweat. "Yes, Don Vittorio. The representative from the Demetrias Group has clearly stated that Mr. Morrison will meet with us in person. He controls most of the underground activities in southern France and is our best potential partner for entering this market."

"Making the Silver Flame Society wait is not a good sign." A crease formed between Vittorio's brows.

Just then, the ornate doors were pushed open. A man wearing a black Burberry trench coat walked in, casually brushing water droplets from his coat. His unconventional silver gray short hair gleamed under the lights. When he looked up, a pair of eyes deep red as blood immediately caused a subtle stir in the restaurant.

What truly surprised Vittorio was that this man was not the Morrison he had been expecting, but a stranger who appeared to be in his twenties, wearing a nonchalant smile.

"Sorry I'm late. Paris traffic, you know how it is." The handsome man spoke fluent Italian, his manner as if they were old friends. He walked to the table and pulled out a chair without ceremony, sitting down. "My apologies for keeping you all waiting."

Vittorio maintained his outward composure, but alarm bells were already ringing inside. "Forgive my directness, sir, but I believe there has been some misunderstanding. I am waiting for Mr. Morrison."

"Ah, Morrison. He won't be coming." The stranger smiled, a smile that seemed friendly yet sent chills down one's spine. "In fact, he was more than happy to delegate this meeting to me."

"And you are?" Vittorio went straight to the point, a hint of displeasure in his tone.

"Lleuad. That name alone should suffice." The man signaled to the waiter standing by to pour wine. "I hear that Mr. Cesare wishes to expand his business into southern France? Quite ambitious."

Vittorio's advisor glanced nervously at his boss, then murmured, "Don Vittorio, this man... I've heard the name before. He's said to have considerable influence in France's underworld."

Vittorio nodded slightly and reassessed the man before him. "Mr. Lleuad, I understand that business negotiations sometimes require intermediaries, but I expect to speak directly with someone who can make decisions."

Lleuad chuckled softly, looking straight at Vittorio. "Oh, I assure you, Mr. Cesare, I am absolutely authorized to make any decision. In fact, many special transactions in France require my approval."

"Special transactions?" Vittorio had an ominous premonition, and sure enough, it was confirmed the very next second.

"The Beyonder Market. I know the Silver Flame Society is quite interested in this field, especially when it comes to expanding international business." Lleuad was blunt, his gaze sharp as a blade.

The expression on Vittorio's face froze. The Beyonder Market was one of the Cesare Family's most confidential ventures within the Silver Flame Society, not something to be openly discussed at a first meeting. Even their peripheral members were not privy to such knowledge. This man possessed far more information than he had anticipated.

"I'm not certain what we're discussing here." Vittorio responded cautiously.

For years, the Silver Flame Society had been probing the edges of the Beyonder Market. Now, having resolved to claim a substantial share in this business, they had decided to bypass the watchful eyes of rival families and test the waters in France first. Who could have known they would run into this man blocking their path, neither clearly friend nor foe?

Lleuad's smile widened, revealing a predator's delight.

"Of course, of course. We can maintain a professional ambiguity for now." He swirled the wine the waiter had just poured into his glass, taking a sip. "However, let's get back to the matter at hand. If you wish to conduct business in France, you'll need local support and channels. Morrison can provide legitimate avenues on the surface, but true value requires connections at a deeper level."

"It seems you know our plans very well." Vittorio finally grasped the complexity of the situation before him.

"I know of all plans that attempt to enter my territory, whether by direct intervention or indirect probing." Beneath Lleuad's flippant tone lay a hint of icy warning.

"Your territory? I understand that France has its own distribution of power, but I've never heard of any single person claiming all of France as their territory." Vittorio kept his tone under control.

Lleuad set down his wine glass. His blood-colored eyes gleamed with a dangerous light as his fingers glided lightly across the table. "That's because you've only heard of the conventional powers, Mr. Cesare. What I control is a far more special domain."

"...Black-Blood Thorn. You're that top Black-Blood Thorn in France." Vittorio finally recognized the identity of the man before him.

"It seems the Silver Flame Society's intelligence network is passable after all." Lleuad looked rather pleased.

Vittorio's expression grew even more serious. The Black-Blood Thorn were legendary in European Beyonder circles for their rarity and prowess in combat and assassination, an ancient Occult Discipline that perfectly merged assassination combat techniques with Blood Magic. Rumor had it that within the Black-Blood Thorn, there was one man of exceptional distinction. Not only did he stand at the apex of all blood-manipulating Abled, but he also held deep roots and widespread influence across all of Europe, particularly in the Beyonder Market.

That man was known as "The Scarlet Sovereign."