Chapter 11

Chapter 11
## Chapter 11

“This marks the end.”

Lucian let his expression go cold, his voice dropping to a low, quiet tone.

“Head Maid, bring her before me.”

“….”

The air in the room grew heavy as everyone present struggled to process the sight of a Lucian they didn’t recognize. A dark, instinctive dread crept over them, suggesting that a refusal would lead to something catastrophic.

Despite this, the staff attempted to push down the alarms ringing in their minds.

‘Regardless of how livid the Third Young Master is, he’s still just the Third Young Master.’

‘Cross Lord Jordi, and we’re as good as dead. I’d rather take a lashing here than face him.’

In their eyes, Lucian was merely a frail, reclusive aristocrat. They were convinced that no matter his level of outrage, he lacked the stomach for true violence. Jordi, however, was notoriously brutal. When weighing the risks, they decided it was safer to insult Lucian than to betray Jordi.

“Young Master, as I’ve already explained—”

*Slap!*

The servant attempting to spin another excuse saw a flash of light. Hugo’s hand had collided with his face before the sentence could even be finished.

“Look at these fools. To whom do you owe your loyalty? Your lord gives a command, and you’re worried about the whims of another? You people have forgotten the most basic rules of service.”

“Gah, cough! What is the meaning of this…!”

“Meaning? It seems you still haven’t grasped your situation.”

*Slap! Slap! Slap!*

Each time Hugo’s massive hand—broad as a heavy lid—swung, the servant’s head whipped back and forth. Though they were open-palm strikes, the force carried the weight of a metal club. After half a dozen hits, teeth skittered across the floor and a spray of crimson began to coat the tiles.

“Gurgle! Cough! Ack!”

“H-Halt! How can you permit such brutality in the Young Master’s presence!”

Terrified by the sight of their peer being reduced to a bloody pulp, the other servants moved forward, trying to use Lucian’s authority to stop the violence. But Lucian simply let out a dry laugh and tilted his head.

“I was the one who gave the order.”

“P-Pardon?”

“This is my command. I told him to discipline those who persist in their defiance, and he is performing his duties admirably. Is there an issue?”

“Y-Young Master.”

“Hugo. Do not stop.”

“Understood, sir.”

*Whack!*

“Aaaargh!”

The hand that had paused for a second resumed with even greater ferocity. With every impact, more teeth fell to the ground. Within moments, the servant—whose features were now a mangled mess—went limp and lost consciousness.

“Young Master, this one has passed out. What are your instructions?”

“Discard him for now. Once he regains his senses, continue the lesson.”

“Is that wise? Further strikes might actually kill him.”

“If he dies, it is a testament to his own physical frailty. If he chose to ignore his master’s directives, he should have anticipated a consequence of this magnitude. He ought to have been ready for this, shouldn’t he?”

“That is a fair point. Very well. If he expires during his instruction, I’ll simply roll him in a mat and dispose of him.”

“…!”

The remaining staff turned pale at the casual nature of the conversation. It was clear this wasn’t mere posturing; they were being entirely literal. The ruthlessness Hugo displayed toward the unconscious man proved he wasn’t holding back. Even if the servant survived, he would likely never eat solid food again. At the very least, his sight and hearing were permanently damaged.

Hugo, shoving the limp body aside, shifted his focus toward the paralyzed group.

“Now then… you’ll be next. Weren’t you just rambling about how we should sympathize with your plight instead of obeying the Young Master?”

“W-Wait! Just a second… Gah!”

*Crack!*

With a sickening thud, the palm began its rhythm again. These strikes felt even more calculated, seemingly aimed at splintering the man’s jaw. The servants watched the horror unfold before finally collapsing into heaps on the floor.

“Y-Young Master! We beg for your mercy! Please!”

“We were mistaken! We will fetch the Head Maid this instant!”

“No, that won’t be necessary. You’re terrified of Jordi, aren’t you? How could I possibly compel my staff to do something that frightens them so much?”

“No! That’s not it! The Second Young Master is nothing! Our only loyalty is to Young Master Lucian!”

“Don’t strain yourselves. I’ll simply kill you without issuing any further orders. Dying by my hand is a cleaner fate than whatever Jordi would do. And don’t worry—Jordi will have no reason to kill you once you’re already gone.”

“Uwaaaah! Young Master! Please, Young Master!”

The servants sobbed and pleaded until their palms were raw from rubbing them together in supplication. Only now did the weight of their error sink in. It was true that Jordi could crush them like insects. But that reality applied to the Grand Duke, the other mistresses, and all the princes as well.

Lucian possessed that same power. If that was the reality, their only hope was loyalty to the master they served directly. A master was someone who recognized them as individuals and might offer protection in a storm. Jordi, the man they feared, wouldn’t even register their deaths. Even if he noticed, he would only offer ridicule. No one had use for a servant who lacked fidelity.

“Please, just one more chance! We beg of you!”

“If it pleases you, I will sever my own finger as an offering!”

“Have mercy! Just let us live!”

The room was filled with the desperate wails of the staff. All the while, Hugo’s hand continued its grim work. Just as the second victim slumped into unconsciousness and Hugo looked for his third subject—

“Hugo, that’s enough.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

Hugo withdrew immediately. Only then did the servants dare to breathe, gasping in frantic relief that their lives had been spared for the moment. Lucian looked down at them with a frigid gaze and spoke a single name.

“The Head Maid.”

“Yes, sir!”

They didn’t wait for another word. The staff scrambled up and sprinted off like panicked animals to locate Jenny.

—

It took less than five minutes for the group to return, dragging Jenny with them.

“You mindless idiots! Do you have no fear of Lord Jordi?!”

“Shut your mouth!”

The servants ignored her struggles, forcing the thrashing Jenny down onto her knees. Between the fresh cuts on her face and her torn attire, it was obvious she had been handled roughly on the way there. Yet, Jenny’s arrogance remained intact. She fought so fiercely that the servants had trouble keeping her still, prompting Lucian to click his tongue in annoyance.

“Hugo, keep her pinned.”

“As you wish.”

At Hugo’s nod, his men stepped in, shoving the servants aside and grabbing Jenny by her shoulders. These were massive men, towering over the average person, and Jenny found herself completely immobilized. Breathing hard, she glared at Lucian with eyes full of spite.

“Young Master! Do you honestly believe you can get away with this?!”

“….”

“….”

Everyone in the room, save for Jenny, stared in shock. Regardless of who supported her, such insolence from a servant to a noble was unheard of. However, Jenny took the silence as a sign of weakness and shouted even louder.

“If you leave so much as a mark on me, Lord Jordi will make you pay! Have you forgotten the training grounds from a year ago? This will be ten times worse than—!”

*Thwack!*

“Guh!”

Unable to tolerate the vitriol any longer, Hugo silenced her with a heavy fist. He knew that if she continued, she would only dig her grave deeper. He might have used a bit too much force, as Jenny reeled from the impact, her eyes glazing over as she neared unconsciousness.

“My apologies, Young Master. I felt as though my ears were being poisoned, so I took the liberty.”

“No, it was necessary. Someone, fetch me a whip.”

“At once, sir!”

In a sharp contrast to earlier, a servant dashed out and returned almost instantly with a lash. It was a heavy buffalo hide whip that had been soaked in water, its strands studded with small beads—a weapon designed for maximum agony.

“Bring her back to her senses.”

“Yes.”

*Slap, slap.*

“Uuuugh…!”

After a few sharp strikes to her face, Jenny’s eyes blinked open. Lucian toyed with the lash, crouching down to meet her gaze.

“Are you with us now?”

“Young Master… what do you think you’re doing….”

“What does it look like? I am conducting a discipline ceremony for a servant who has forgotten her rank.”

“D-Discipline?”

“That’s right. Did you assume this was a mere scolding? I hate to disappoint you, but I have no intention of letting you walk away from this alive.”

As Lucian offered a dark smile, the color drained from Jenny’s face. Was he truly prepared to execute her, the woman who had shared a wet nurse with Jordi?

“L-Lord Jordi! Does his name not strike fear into you?!”

“And does my presence not strike fear into you? I am of the nobility and your master. And yet, you speak to me of consequences? Are you unaware that I could take your head this second for the crime of lèse-majesté and never hear a word of complaint from the law?”

“I told you! I am—!”

“So what if you are Jordi’s milk sibling? Even if I end your life, Jordi is powerless to retaliate. At most, I might receive a reprimand, and that would be the end of it. If my Father steps in, Jordi won’t even be allowed that much. It’s a small price to pay to cleanse my house of an insolent servant.”

*Crack!*

Lucian snapped the whip through the air as he finished. Jenny shook violently at the sound of the leather biting the wind. She finally grasped that he wasn’t playing a game—he was dead serious.

“Hugo.”

“I’ll hold her in place. Hans, fetch a mop; the floor is about to get quite stained.”

“Eh? Ah, understood. Blood is a nightmare to scrub once it sets.”

Whip injuries varied, but the bead-studded lash Lucian held was the most brutal tool used for corporal punishment. It was guaranteed to tear flesh and cause significant bleeding within a few strikes. Turning a ghostly shade of white, Jenny’s teeth rattled as she looked at Lucian.

“Y-Young Master… I-I was wrong. I was out of line. Please, show me mercy just this once.”

Lucian gave her a bright, beaming smile at her plea.

“If a mistake was made, a penalty must be paid, right?”

And with that, the whip lashed out.

—

Jordi finished his dinner and daintily wiped his lips. Though the meal was standard fare, he found the flavors particularly vibrant today. He knew exactly why he was in such high spirits.

‘He can’t even maintain control over his own household. What a pathetic excuse for a man.’

Every time he recalled the embarrassment his half-brother had endured, he couldn’t help but chuckle. He knew Lucian was an outcast, but he hadn’t realized the boy was so incompetent that he couldn’t handle his own staff. To think he had simply fled the scene. It was a stain on the Valdek bloodline—an insult to the entire aristocracy.

After this, whatever sliver of respect Lucian had left would surely evaporate.

“I can’t wait to see his pathetic face.”

The smirk on Jordi’s face widened. This was where the real entertainment began. If the boy had any pride, he would try to dismiss Jenny. But how could he? Everyone was terrified of Jordi, and no one gave a damn about Lucian. To move against Jenny, Lucian would have to act personally rather than through his subordinates.

That was the trap. Without any servants willing to support Lucian’s side of the story, Jordi could fabricate any narrative he wanted about a noble assaulting a defenseless head maid.

‘Father might suspect the truth, but the truth is irrelevant to him.’

The core issue would remain: Lucian had failed the basic test of leadership by being unable to manage his own servants. Even if Jordi had engineered the situation, falling for such a blatant provocation was a sign of weakness. Jordi might get a slap on the wrist, but for Lucian, it would be the final proof of his uselessness.

Of course, it didn’t matter if Lucian simply rolled over and let Jenny stay or ran to their father for help. In that case, the Duke’s fury would burn Lucian for his inability to settle his own affairs.

“Young Master! Something has gone horribly wrong!”

“What is it?”

Jordi scowled at his personal attendant for interrupting his thoughts. He had been enjoying the moment; what could be so urgent? The servant, however, didn’t back down despite Jordi’s clear annoyance.

“Jenny! The Third Prince is whipping Jenny!”

“What?”

“The sound of the lashing is echoing throughout the halls! If we don’t intervene immediately, he might kill her!”

“…!”

At this startling revelation, Jordi bolted upright, his face turning as pale as ash.