RISE OF THE HOLY DEMONIC GOD Chapter 130: The Noose Tightens, Fortunes & Forge

The mont Rey stepped out of the carriage, his jaw almost dropped.

In front of him wasn't the "simple house" Hosric promised. Instead, a two-story ho stretched across twice the space of his old place.

A trimd garden decorated the front. Its polished walls and carved stonework radiated wealth.

A house fit for a family of six. Yet, to Hosric, it was nothing more than a minor residence.

"Uhm… Uncle, is this the right place? Did we… make a mistake?" Rey asked carefully.

Hosric raised an eyebrow. "Why? Don't you like it? Your mother told you'd be fine in sothing smaller. Maybe I should've arranged a bigger one."

"No, no! That's not it. It's just—this house is way too big for alone. A small apartnt or even a hotel room would be better."

Hosric stared at him as if Rey had just grown horns.

"An apartnt? A hotel? Have you lost your mind? If my sister heard this, I'd be dead before sunset. No chances taken—you'll stay here, and that's final."

"But—"

"No buts. I'm your elder. Listen like a good nephew."

Rey's lips pressed into a thin line. Arguing felt pointless. Hosric was like his mother's copy—unyielding when it ca to "what's best."

Smug from his victory, Hosric tapped the car horn twice.

The front door creaked open. A man and a maid stepped out, both in their mid-thirties. They bowed deeply.

"Greetings, Master. As ordered, the house is cleaned and fully prepared," the man said before taking items from the carriage inside. The maid stayed, waiting quietly.

Rey blinked. "Uh… who are they?"

"Servants," Hosric replied casually. "They've managed the house for years. If you need more, just let know."

"Right… servants. Of course." Rey gave a stiff nod, burying his discomfort and followed him into the house.

Hosric's expression shifted. The casual air vanished, replaced by a heaviness that filled the room.

"Listen carefully, Rey. This isn't your city anymore. The capital plays by different rules."

Rey straightened, sensing the weight behind his uncle's voice.

"The Ashcroft Family rose after your father's death. Backed by the royals, they spread like wildfire, producing Psychic-type artists as easily as growing wheat. In a few short years, they seized control of everything.

"Their main estate is here, in this city. Every influential branch, every key figure—it all circles around this place. You must understand the scale of what you're walking into."

Hosric's tone sharpened.

"The family head alone is a Mid-Disciple Psychic Martial Warrior, seasoned in countless battles. Several elders sit at the Early-Disciple rank, and the number of lower ranks is impossible to count.

"And there are rumours of a Peak Disciple Rank expert in seclusion, pulling the strings from behind. Add the Royal Family backing them, and you should see it clearly—this is the most dangerous ground you'll ever step on."

Rey stayed silent, absorbing every word.

"Other noble families will join the entrance exam too," Hosric pressed on. "Even the Ashcroft young master. Your competition won't just be difficult—it'll be ruthless. If you cross the wrong line here, you won't just lose. You'll vanish into so hidden dungeon, never seen again."

He rose, leaving Rey with nothing but the suffocating weight of his words.

Outside the door, Hosric exhaled, heavy and tired.

'Hope you understand, kid. The world you're chasing isn't one for the weak. If you fall into their gas, even your body won't recover. Sister… I only wish your son wouldn't stumble into the sa secret that killed his father.'

Inside, Rey slumped onto the couch. His eyes widened, then narrowed.

"…Ha. Hahaha… HAHAHAHAHA!"

Aiden stirred. "What's so funny? Did your uncle tell you a joke?"

"No." Rey's grin twisted. "I thought I was strong enough to face a Duke family. But now… I realise I'm just a bottom feeder. My strength ans nothing. Power only matters if no one can stand above you..."

"Otherwise, you're just a pawn in soone else's ga."

His laughter grew darker, anger bubbling beneath.

Aiden smirked in the corner of his mind. 'Good. At least you've seen the mirror once. Better you learn now than fail later.'

Rey leaned back, letting the fire in his chest burn.

After an hour of restless thought, exhaustion finally dragged him into sleep. By evening, he woke, refreshed and resolute.

The Martial Market awaited.

His weapons were in shambles—the daggers dull, the sword worn, the spear bent, the shield shattered, the katana chipped. Only his bow and heavier weapons survived intact.

He lined the broken pieces before him.

"…Useless now. Ti to squeeze out the last bit they've got left."