CHAPTER 307: CH 307: THE CHALLANGE - PART 3

The color drained from Christan’s face like ink fading from parchment.

His once smug grin twisted into a gaping expression of disbelief as the blackened smoke vanished under Kyle’s control. He could feel the gazes on him—cold, accusing, and confused.

"I-I didn’t know!!!"

Christan stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That knight—he wasn’t supposed to be like that. I didn’t—" The rest of his words caught in his throat, refusing to come out. His legs trembled, and sweat beaded down the side of his face.

The Duke’s cold stare bore into him.

With a deep sigh, the Duke turned away from the dissipating smoke and addressed the crowd,

"Regardless of what your intentions were, Christan, what just happened is not something that can be brushed off."

His voice was heavy with disdain.

"You brought in an outsider reeking with foreign divine mana into our household’s sacred arena. You endangered your kin. You endangered my heir. That alone is enough."

"Father, please. I didn’t mean—this wasn’t—"

Christan tried again, desperation creeping into his voice.

"I do not care for excuses. You will be detained until a thorough investigation is conducted. Guards."

The Duke interrupted sharply.

Two armored guards stepped forward immediately, their boots clanking against the stone floor. Christan took a step back, looking utterly betrayed.

"You’re making a mistake! This is all a misunderstanding!" he cried, but the guards seized him without hesitation.

The Duke didn’t spare him another glance as Christan was dragged away, his protests growing fainter with each step.

The murmuring of the onlookers began to rise again, thick with confusion and fear. Someone had summoned a knight corrupted by divine mana into their midst—and no one knew why or how.

Once Christan was gone, the Duke’s shoulders slumped slightly as he turned to face his remaining sons.

"What do you make of this?"

He asked, his voice low and weary.

Nigel scratched the back of his neck and gave a half-shrug.

"Honestly? I don’t think much. He’s always been a fool. Maybe someone offered him a shiny coin, and he jumped without looking."

Kyle, meanwhile, remained silent for a long moment. Then he looked toward the entrance through which Christan had been taken and said calmly.

"I would like to speak to him. Alone."

The Duke raised a brow.

"And why is that?"

"Because I think he was used. Christan’s an idiot, yes, but he’s not smart enough to pull off something like this on his own. Someone put that knight in his hands. He just doesn’t realize he was being played."

Kyle replied.

The Duke considered this, his gaze locked with Kyle’s for a beat longer than usual. Then, with a brief nod, he replied.

"Very well. I’ll permit it. But I’ll have someone nearby in case he tries something reckless."

"I don’t think he will. He’s not brave enough for that."

Kyle said.

The Duke turned back toward the arena, where the last traces of the corrupted mana were still being cleaned by the palace mages.

"I underestimated how far outside forces might have reached. If that knight came from beyond the borders, it means someone’s trying to infiltrate our house through the weak points."

Nigel grimaced.

"And Christan was the weak point."

"Exactly."

The Duke muttered.

Kyle, arms crossed, stared off in the direction of Christan’s detainment.

So it begins, he thought. If even someone as unimportant as Christan could be used as a pawn, it meant the enemy had more eyes in the duchy than they had anticipated.

"Kyle. When you’re done speaking with your brother... I want to know what you learn. All of it."

The Duke said suddenly, breaking his thoughts.

Kyle gave a short nod.

"Of course."

"And one more thing. If Christan is truly a fool, then this is the last time I’ll protect him. After this, I’ll no longer treat him as my son if he proves to be a liability."

The Duke added.

Nigel blinked at the harsh declaration but didn’t argue.

Kyle said nothing. He simply turned, cloak swaying behind him, and began making his way toward the castle dungeons where Christan was being held.

The winds had shifted.

______

Nigel caught up to Kyle just outside the dungeon hallway, his footsteps quick and determined.

"Kyle. I want to come with you. I want to support you when you talk to Christan."

He called out,

Kyle didn’t stop walking, though he did glance over his shoulder.

"You can’t."

Nigel frowned.

"Why not?"

Kyle finally stopped and turned to face him.

"Because you’re the Duke’s heir now."

He said plainly.

"You can’t afford to run around like a younger brother anymore. You need to use this time to take control of the situation. Secure the loyalty of the nobles. Calm the shaken nerves. Make them see that the next Duke is reliable."

Nigel hesitated.

"And you think they’ll listen to me?"

"They will. If not because of who you are, then because of who you’re standing with."

Kyle said without missing a beat.

Nigel gave a tired sigh but nodded slowly.

"Fine. But I still don’t like the idea of you going alone."

Kyle turned away.

"I’ll be fine."

Then, as if recalling something, he raised his hand and gestured for a nearby servant.

"Bring Emelia."

A few minutes later, Emelia arrived, arms crossed, face clearly annoyed.

"You called?"

She asked with forced politeness.

Kyle didn’t humor her act.

"Help Nigel."

Emelia blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"He needs support. Public, visible support. You’re going to help him settle into his position as the heir. Guide the guests. Keep the gossip under control. Make sure no one tries anything."

Kyle said.

Emelia’s lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes flickered from Kyle to Nigel, and back again.

She clearly wanted to argue—but couldn’t. Not now, not after she’d aligned herself with Kyle earlier.

"Of course. I’ll help as much as I can."

She said finally, forcing a smile.

"Good. I’ll leave this in your hands."

Kyle said, already turning away.

As he disappeared down the hallway, Emelia sighed, then muttered under her breath.

"Why does it always feel like he’s giving orders even when he’s asking?"

Nigel looked at her sideways.

"Because it’s Kyle. You should get used to it."

Emelia rolled her eyes.

"Let’s just get this over with."

Emelia walked beside Nigel through the halls, her expression sour despite her elegant posture.

"You know, this wasn’t exactly how I planned on spending my day—babysitting the heir."

She said, voice low.

Nigel chuckled dryly.

"You can drop the sarcasm. I know you’re not doing this out of goodwill."

Emelia arched a brow.

"Sharp as ever. But unlike Christan, I don’t plan on sinking with a losing ship."

"Then don’t drag this one down either. Kyle trusted you with this. Don’t make him regret it."

Nigel warned, his tone more serious now.

Her smirk faded slightly.

"You really are taking this heir thing seriously."

"I have to. Because he won’t. Kyle doesn’t care about titles. He’s always been more interested in things beyond our borders. So I’ll handle this part, as long as he’s out there handling the rest."

Nigel said simply.

Emelia nodded slowly, her expression unreadable.

"You really believe in him, don’t you?"

"More than anyone. So let’s make sure this house is still standing when he comes back."

Nigel replied.

She sighed, brushing her hair back.

"Fine. Let’s go charm the vultures. For now."