It had been a month since Lucen gave Aldric a few Territory War boards and pieces. By now, the game had spread like wildfire across Stellhart. You could see people playing it in taverns, in homes, even on crates by the roadside, anywhere a board could be placed.
In a certain tea party attended by the children of nobles, hosted by the youngest daughter of Marquess Varne Crowlorne, Lysette Crowlorne.
She was the beloved daughter of the Marquess. She was a bright spark in the often gray world of nobility.
Her golden blonde hair shimmered like sunlight, and her deep blue eyes always seemed to be plotting something fun.
Unlike her stern father, Marquess Varne Crowlorne, Lysette was cheerful, outgoing, and far too curious for her own good. She spoke to knights, servants, and nobles with equal ease, often making friends wherever she went. Beneath her playful charm, however, was a sharp mind and quick wit, traits she hid behind her laughter.
While her tea parties were mostly seen as social playdates for noble daughters, Lysette cleverly used them to gather little pieces of information, stitching together whispers and rumors like embroidery on a handkerchief.
Of course, she also used this tea party to have fun talking to other noble ladies.
Yet this time, there was something different at this tea party as she took out a curious-looking board with an insignia that looked similar to the Thornehart family’s, but this one had a fang instead of a shield wrapped in thorns.
"Oh, what’s this? I think I have seen that item while passing by a nearby village." The daughter of a viscount spoke.
"That’s Territory War, isn’t it?" another chimed in. "It’s become quite popular in Stellhart, the Iron Duke’s domain. But... yours looks different, Lady Lysette."
Lysette grinned. "By chance, I met the merchant selling the game. He told me he had a special board—one of only a hundred ever made. I was already interested in the game before that, so I told him I didn’t care about the price and bought it on the spot."
She gently placed the board for all to see.
It was a beautiful thing: deep-stained mahogany with beveled edges and a polished obsidian inlay forming the grid. At the center was a finely etched Thornefang insignia. Beneath the board, engraved in delicate script, was a mark: #001 / 100.
Each game piece is a weighty disc made of jet-black iron on one side and bone-white ceramic on the other, with a faint magical shimmer. When placed, the pieces emit a soft click, and high-quality sets even include subtle enchantments, causing flipped tiles to glow briefly with Thornefang’s signature red hue.
"Oh my, this is much better than the ones I have seen before. Still, it’s quite curious that the insignia of this board seems oddly similar to the Thornehart crest. Do you think that the Thornehart family has something to do with this game?" One of the ladies voiced her opinion.
"The game did start spreading in his territory."
One of the younger girls, clearly excited, leaned closer. "If it’s connected to the Thorneharts, does that mean the Iron Duke himself plays it? That would be so thrilling!"
Lysette giggled. "I highly doubt Lord Vardon would waste time on a board game. He’s far too serious for that. Let’s stop talking about who created the game and start playing instead."
The ladies readily agreed and, after a brief explanation from Lysette, started playing the game. Once they started, the entire tea party was just them playing Territory War.
After that tea party, the daughters of various noble families wanted to own their own set of Territory War.
They asked their fathers to buy them the board game. It didn’t take long for them to locate Aldric, who sold the limited edition ones, which cost around 2 platinum coins.
Seeing how obsessed their daughters were with the game, the fathers themselves became interested, and once they started playing, they could not stop.
The game then started spreading through the noble circles, and finally, the big merchant groups learned of the game.
When they caught wind of Territory War, the first thing they did was, of course, replicate the game. It was quite easy to do since the board and pieces were simple to make.
Even Edrim took great interest in it and crafted a superior version—sleek, elegant, expensive. He made a large batch, confident that nobles would flock to it. But they didn’t.
Not even the cheaper version sold. And across the kingdom of Norvaegard, merchant after merchant found the same problem. Everyone wanted Aldric’s board, not theirs.
Edrim and the other big merchant group needed an answer to their question, so they asked a few commoners who owned Territory War and asked why they decided to buy Aldric’s version.
"Well, it’s because of the price, the one Aldirc’s sells is just two silver coins, while the other versions were worth four to five silver coins." One commoner answered.
"It’s because of the quality, even though there’s a version that’s cheaper, around one silver coin, the quality of the product seems shoddy. I feel like I could have made a better board with my own hands."
"It’s because of the insignia, when I see that Fang covered with thorns, it feels more authentic than the other products."
When they asked the nobles why they wanted to buy Aldric’s version more than theirs, the answer surprised them.
"The enhancements make it more fun, even if other versions use better materials. But those feel off. This one feels right. That matters more than how the board looks."
The noble paused for a second before continuing.
"There’s also the fact that there is a limited stock of it. I want it, especially those who have ones with only a single-digit number on their board. It proves that they have something one of a kind."
The other nobles answered in the same way, some even said that they found that seeing the Thornefang brand made the item seem authentic, while the others looked fake.
It was like a slap to the face.
Edrim Lysark, a man who prided himself on crushing trends and controlling markets before they even bloomed, now found himself behind the curve.
The numbers cannot lie. It was right there in his face as if mocking him. Despite his higher quality materials, superior logistics, and even royal backing, he was losing.
He stared coldly at the report in front of him. "Two platinum coins for a game... And people still lined up for it?" His voice was soft, but the air around him felt like it had dropped several degrees.
One of his aides nodded, sweating. "Nobles treat it like a status symbol. Especially the single-digit boards. Some are already exchanging hands for thrice the original price. They have become something sought after by collectors."
"Who is this Aldric Marren?" Edrim’s eyes narrowed as he asked.
"He’s just a minor merchant who tried making a business in Caelhart, but he has done nothing notable in the past five years. He was last seen heading north."
"Unfortunately, sir, we have no idea what happened there. As you know, the Iron Duke had rooted out the spies in Stellhart. He also drove out all of our branches there. So we have no information about what was happening there."
Edrim gripped the handrest of his chair as he remembered that it was also the deal with the Iron Duke that he suffered his last loss. Now this Aldric Marren and his Territory War have something to do with the Thorneharts, which infuriated him even more.
"Find out more about this Aldric Marren! I will not lose to an upstart! Either buy him out or bury him in the ground."
"What of the supposed backing of the Iron Duke?"
"Hmph, I have the backing of a royal. What’s a measly Duke going to do to me?..."
He stopped mid-thought, as a certain memory hit like a slap. The second prince once warned him after his failure in getting a greater share of monster materials from the North.
"You can play your little games in Norvaegard, and I will protect you as long as you do what I wish. But remember this, no longer think about touching the North, until I tell you to. If you do anything that will antagonize the Iron Duke, that will make him target you, then I will offer him your head."
Remembering the second Prince’s warning, Edrim’s grip loosened. The cold glint in his eyes remained, but now it shimmered with calculation instead of fury.
"Fine. We won’t bury him... Yet. Just remind him... In business, those who do not know when to retreat are often those who lose everything."
"And tell me the moment he refuses. I’ll make sure he understands what it means to challenge Edrim Lysark. I will not touch him, but I will crush him using the might of the coin."
He smiled, sharp and joyless. This was the start of the battle, not of sword or magic, but of coin and influence, between Aldric and Edrim.