CHAPTER 583: OUTRAGE AND IRONY

With an elevated heart rate and smoke nearly billowing from the Duke, Butler Gary almost mistook Duke Leander’s reaction for intense concern.

Although maybe it was.

Because before the duel even started, His Grace had tried to convince Xavier out of it.

Now, whether the concern was for his precious son or for this young cadet did not really make a difference, since when it came to life, they were basically one and the same.

Still, it could not be denied that the youngster had scored points when he defended their Young Lord with unshakable facts.

And somehow, it felt nice to know there was another person in this house who seemed to operate with logic before temper.

Then again, there were times when even he was being tested by the heavens. Because witnessing someone try to assassinate Lord Xavier in such a dirty manner would drive even a saint into full-blown fury.

And if they had been able to hold it in earlier, they certainly could not now.

Crack!

Duke Leander stepped on someone’s leg.

Honestly, this would have been over much faster if he had just released his spiritual energy.

But since he noticed what that boy Xavier was doing when he got close enough to fish him out of the ordeal, he figured he would cooperate.

Knowing that boy’s rating, it was obvious these grunt soldiers were small fry to him. And yet, Xavier deliberately avoided ending the conflict. He dodged, enraged them further, and let them exhaust themselves. Soldiers loyal to House Holt snapped like brittle twigs.

So what was he really planning?

Leander threw a punch to the side, intercepting a face that was flying at him. He did not want to lose his line of sight on that agile youngster.

After all, he had found his earlier action enjoyable. Ehem. Appropriate.

From his vantage point, the curious father-in-law watched as Xavier closed in and leaned down to whisper something into Marquis Draven Holt’s ear. Whatever it was, it sent the man’s eyes flying wide like saucers. More blood sprayed out of his mouth in a fresh splatter.

Xavier straightened smoothly, the faint shimmer of spiritual energy wrapping his body as another soldier’s strike glanced harmlessly off him. Though really, it was just because Xavier did not like being dirty whenever he faced his little chipmunk. And there was no way something as dirty as their blood would be taken home.

And just as he released the catatonic Marquis, the sirens blared.

WEE-OOO! WEE-OOO!

The piercing alarms cut through the chaos, signaling the arrival of higher officers rushing in to chastise the entire mess.

The matter, of course, exploded into outrage the moment officers arrived. After all, this was no small tavern brawl. It involved a Duke, a Marquis, and a scattering of groaning soldiers who looked like they had been trampled by a herd of star-beasts.

The officers tried to move in to restrain Duke Leander, who was very much ready to break more bones for "good measure." But before they could, Xavier calmly stepped forward.

"This was self-defense after a failed assassination attempt," he announced, his tone so matter-of-fact it felt like he was commenting on the weather. "They also attempted to destroy evidence, which forced us to intervene."

Gasps rippled.

The bruised and battered soldiers, many still flat on the ground and clutching their stomachs, instantly howled in protest. "Lies! He’s lying!"

But Xavier had no time for theatrics. Not when they were already running late for their meeting. So he flicked his terminal open and displayed video footage captured during the scuffle. Then, with deliberate care, he revealed the preserved bioneedle he had kept intact with spiritual energy.

The officers’ faces turned pale.

One officer, still blinking at the footage, suddenly blurted out, "If you already had that, then why did it turn out like this?"

He waved his arm toward the lopsided battlefield. On one side: Xavier, Leander, and the others, standing straight without a single scratch. On the other: House Holt’s loyalists, sprawled across the floor like discarded laundry.

"Why," the officer asked again, pointing at the sorry heap, "did they all end up like that?"

Only then did the House of Kyros, Xavier included, suddenly realize what it must have looked like.

And then Xavier, without hesitation and with a straight face, delivered the most shameless line of the century:

"They were merely taking care of a weak cadet like me."

The entire ward went silent.

The soldiers on the ground shivered violently at the word "weak." Weak? This monster? The cadet who had kicked their Marquis across the arena like a ball? If this was weakness, then what did that make them? Worms? No, worms at least still wiggled.

And as if to hammer in the irony, Xavier even coughed softly, pale as a martyr. "Officer, if there is nothing else, may we leave to proceed with our meeting with the Marshal? He is expecting us. Surely we would not want him kept waiting?"

Everyone stared. Some in disbelief, others in horror.

And just like that, they walked out, free to finish their meeting with Marshal Julian in one piece.

...Well. Mostly.

Because before they left the building, Duke Leander finally cornered the youth. His voice was low and tight. "What was that all about back there?"

Xavier did not answer immediately. He simply opened his terminal and sent files over to the Duke.

Leander’s breath caught.

The reports were bad enough, but what truly sent his vision red were the images. Doctored photos. Fabricated filth. Luca’s face spliced into compromising positions, his body edited into scandalous frames.

"What is this?!" the Duke roared, his chest heaving, every vein in his forehead threatening to explode. His precious son, reduced to this garbage?

"It seems," Xavier said evenly, "that Holt was planning to spread them on the Star Net to stir more rumors about Luca."

Leander almost lost his breath. His first instinct was to storm back in and grind Draven Holt into powder.

But Xavier stopped him with a look. "Your Grace. We will deal with him. He needs to be made an example. So that others will think at least three times before trying something similar."

For a moment, silence hung between them. Not long, but enough. Their gazes locked, the weight of mutual understanding finally passing between father-in-law and son-in-law.

Leander finally asked, "What are you planning?"

Xavier’s lips curved, but his eyes remained sharp. "To destroy them so thoroughly they won’t have time to think about any of us."

The drive back to the guild base was quiet. Butler Gary thought, optimistically, that perhaps this was the beginning of a more harmonious family.

But then—

"And where do you think you’re all going?"

The Duchess was waiting. Arms crossed. Murder in her eyes.

Everyone froze.

In perfect, unified instinct, they pivoted around as if to head straight back to the military base. Unfortunately, no man, no beast, and no army in the Empire had ever escaped the Duchess when she was like this.

They were doomed.

Meanwhile, Steward Han stood off to the side, utterly miserable. Why was he being dragged into punishment again? He had not even gotten to knock anyone out this time. Not a single satisfying thwack. If he had known this would happen, he would have at least taken down one poor sod for the memory. How unfair!