Bang! Bang!
Clothes and personal belongings were thrown haphazardly from the courtyard, clattering harshly against the ground, scattering everywhere.
"Throw out anything that belongs to Alan and his sickly sister!"
"Lord William is about to move into Virtue Pavilion. Get rid of this bad omen!"
Charles, William's trusted bodyguard, loudly commanded the guards trashing the hall. Then he turned to a blond young man seated nearby and offered a sycophantic smile.
"My lord, we've accelerated the process. Within the hour, Virtue Pavilion will be completely refreshed, ready to welcome its new master."
William nodded in satisfaction. Virtue Pavilion, the residence of the Roan House heir, was now his after the council's recent appointment, and he had rushed over without delay.
"You have no right to throw away my brother's things!"
A weak yet angry voice suddenly interrupted.
A slim, pale girl burst into the pavilion, her sapphire-blue eyes blazing. She threw her arms open, trying to stop the guards from discarding their belongings.
The guards recognized her immediately: Isabella, Alan's sister—the infamous sickly girl of the family.
Charles clicked his tongue. "Still don't get it, do you? Your brother Alan is no longer the heir to the family. The William you see before you is the council's newly appointed successor!"
Isabella's blue eyes widened. "Impossible! My brother is the heir of House Roan—everyone inside and outside the family knows this!"
Charles cut her off impatiently. "He's talentless and unworthy. The council stripped him of the title. From now on, William is the new heir, so keep your mouth shut, or I'll tear it open!"
"You're lying!" Isabella shouted back. "My brother has been fighting for the family since he was a teenager. His body bears countless scars from battle. Even now, he's fighting for our mines. How could you call him talentless and unworthy?"
Before she could finish, Charles slapped her hard across the face.
"Shut up! Do you dare question the council's decision, you sickly brat?"
A red handprint burned on her pale cheek, but she clenched her teeth, her defiant gaze sweeping over the others.
William sneered, his gaze icy. "Throw her out and cut off her tongue as an example. Trash like her is a waste of the family's resources."
Charles nodded eagerly, grabbing Isabella by her delicate chin and forcing her mouth open, exposing her tongue. With a flourish, he pulled a dagger from his belt, preparing to sever it.
Several guards looked at Isabella with sympathy. She and Alan had always treated them well, even rewarding them on holidays. Alan, a brave and dashing young man, had become a role model for many of them.
But…some guards closed their eyes, unwilling to witness the bloody scene.
Just then, a lion-like roar echoed through the hall, shaking the air.
"Who dares to lay a hand on my sister!"
The voice struck like thunder, jolting many guards into a daze. Charles's heart skipped as he looked toward the source of the sound.
At the entrance stood a young man in light armor, with a sword on his back, his face twisted in fury.
Alan!
Alan had returned!
Charles's hands shook with fear.
William smirked coldly. "He's nothing but a family outcast now. What's there to fear? Continue!"
Reassured, Charles grinned maliciously and brought the dagger down toward Isabella's tongue.
"Fuck off!"
Before Charles could move, Alan's eyes turned blood red. Like a raging beast, he lunged forward, closing the distance in an instant. His sword, somehow already unsheathed, sliced through the air with bone-chilling speed.
Charles's right hand, the one holding the dagger, was severed, blood splattering everywhere.
"Aaargh!" Charles howled in agony, his face contorted in a grotesque grimace.
Everyone else shivered as his scream echoed through the hall.
"Alan! What are you doing? Charles is my bodyguard!" William glared at Alan in anger.
"Your bodyguard?" Alan glanced at William, pulling Isabella into his arms to shield her eyes. Then, with a heavy stomp, he crushed Charles underfoot, sinking him deep into the ground.
"So, you ordered him to harm my sister?!"
Charles coughed up blood mixed with fragments of his organs, gasping, "William…save me! Save me!"
William looked down coldly at Charles, then shot Alan a steely glare. "Take your filthy foot off him. I'm the council-appointed heir to House Roan, and if you continue this lawlessness, you'll be sentenced to death by fire!"
Swish!
Alan's sword flashed, and Charles's head flew from his body, blood spraying upward and splattering across several faces, leaving a strange, warm sensation.
The hall fell into dead silence.
William's face darkened with fury. Even dogs deserve respect when they belong to their masters. Alan was treating him with outright contempt.
Seething with rage, William saw Alan, blood-stained sword in hand, stalking toward him like a god of death. He could see the murderous intent in Alan's eyes.
"How dare you!" A thunderous voice shattered the tension. The seneschal, wielding a staff of dark gold and silver hair flowing, entered the hall.
He glared furiously at Alan. "William is the heir of House Roan. Are you committing treason?"
"Treason?" Alan's eyes grew colder. "May I ask, seneschal, who claimed the thirty-six mines surrounding House Roan without rest? Who is still fighting House Quixote for the mana stone mines?"
"Why was I stripped of my heirship? And why do you turn a blind eye when William dares to touch my sister?"
The seneschal's anger flared, glaring at Alan. "Enough! Your past contributions have made you arrogant, daring to question the council's decisions! William has awakened the Hellfire bloodline—he's the family's hope!"
Alan scoffed. "So what if he has a special bloodline? Anyone who harms my sister will die!"
In an instant, his arm seemed to swell with power as elemental energy surged. His sword transformed into a blinding streak of cold light, slashing fiercely at William.
The air split like silk, producing a faint sonic boom.
"Impudent!" The seneschal's eyes blazed with killing intent as he saw Alan daring to attack William right in front of him.
His dark golden staff glowed brightly, striking Alan's sword like a massive hammer.
Bang!
Mana ripples spread like waves, shaking the hall as dust rose around them.
Alan's grip numbed as he was sent flying back several steps before steadying himself. The seneschal, though forced back ten steps, stabilized himself quickly.
The onlookers were astonished. Alan was House Roan's prodigy, now at tier-iron level 6. Yet the seneschal, a family elder at tier-iron level 8, should have easily overpowered him.
After all, each tier represented a world of difference. The level gap between them was significant. Yet Alan hadn't been overwhelmingly defeated; he was only slightly outmatched.
The seneschal, equally surprised, felt his murderous intent intensify. To think Alan was this powerful even at tier-iron level 6. If he reached tier-iron level 8, could even the seneschal himself prevail?
William glared at Alan, hatred in his eyes. "Defying authority, resorting to violence—I sentence Alan to be hanged, his corpse left to rot for three days! Guards, seize him!"
The seneschal echoed, "So be it. Take him down!"
The guards hesitated briefly before drawing their swords, surrounding Alan. Mana surged from their bodies, subtly forming an ancient battle array.