The word hit him like venom.
Doggy.
The title that once chained him. The insult he endured when fear weighed heavier than steel.
But that Asher was dead.
The air in the room chilled as his aura seeped out, silent yet suffocating. Even Hans, long accustomed to the boy's strangeness, felt his throat tighten. Emily instinctively shrank behind him, her usual mischief stripped away by the goosebumps crawling across her skin.
Rose, however, smirked, wearing the same cruel expression she had shown years ago when she made him crawl at her heels.
"Why the glare?" she teased, swinging her legs off the bed. "Don't tell me you've grown fangs, little pup. Last I remember, you couldn't even lift a wooden sword without trembling."
Her maid giggled, emboldened by her mistress's words.
But Asher did not flinch. His steps echoed as he walked forward, calm, deliberate—yet each one pressed heavier against the air.
"I don't remember allowing you to sit there," he said coldly, his eyes fixed on her legs resting on his bed.
Rose arched a brow. "Oh? Since when does the dog give orders to its master?"
Crack.
The book in her hand slammed shut, her wrist trembling. She hadn't seen him move. One moment she held it lazily, the next his fingers were on the cover, pressing it closed with such force the air hummed.
He leaned in, his voice low, meant only for her ears.
"The dog died three months ago."
Her smirk faltered. For the first time, she glimpsed something in his eyes that made her pulse quicken—not fear, but danger. A dragon staring out through the gaze of a boy.
"You…" she whispered, composure slipping. "…You've changed."
"Changed?" His lips curled into a sharper smirk. "No. I simply remembered who I am."
He let go. The book dropped onto the bed with a dull thud. The maid bent to pick it up—her hands trembling.
Then—
Boom.
Asher's aura exploded, suffocating, merciless. Rose froze in place, her body refusing to obey. Her heart thundered.
This feeling… these eyes… it's the same as Patriarch Samael's…
Her maid's instincts screamed danger. She reached for her dagger, releasing killing intent in a desperate bid to protect her lady.
But before the blade left its sheath, a hand clamped her wrist.
Hans. His voice was calm, but his grip like iron. "If I were you, I wouldn't take another step."
Meanwhile, Asher's hand shot forward, seizing Rose by the collar and yanking her close. His eyes burned with hatred so sharp it pierced her soul.
"The next time you dare call me that," he hissed, his voice colder than steel, "your head will no longer remain on your shoulders."
"I… I think she understood, young master," Hans interjected quickly, sensing how close Asher was to crossing the line of the family's unbreakable rules.
At his words, Asher exhaled sharply, his aura receding. He released Rose and turned away, expression unreadable.
"We're going to see Father," he said firmly.
Hans and Emily fell in beside him. Rose and her maid trailed behind, silent, shaken—their fear still clinging to them like chains.
---
Knock. Knock.
"Father, may I enter?" Asher asked.
"Yes, you may," Samael's deep voice replied.
Inside sat not only Samael but also Rose's father, Aurelion Draker, patriarch of the empire's second-strongest house. His sharp eyes flickered with curiosity, noting the fear etched on his daughter's face… and the cold determination in Asher's.
"What is it?" Samael asked, glancing at his son. "Can't you see I am entertaining guests?"
Without hesitation, Asher stepped forward.
"Father, I wish to end my engagement with Rose."
The room froze. Rose gasped. Even Emily covered her mouth in shock.
Aurelion's face hardened. "Do you understand what you're saying, boy?" His voice thundered, his aura bursting forth like a storm.
Samael's aura surged to meet it, the clash of two titans crackling in the air.
"What is your reason, Asher?" Samael demanded, testing his son.
Asher stood tall, unwavering. "Because Rose has always looked down on the Valcren name, treating us as though we were beneath her. She has disgraced our house countless times. I will not bind myself to someone who insults our honor."
Samael's voice was cold. "True. We cannot allow one who spits on our name to enter our family."
"Honor?" Aurelion sneered. "You speak as if you understand its weight. Ending this engagement is not so simple. Have you considered the cost?"
"The terms are clear," Asher replied steadily. "Ten million gold, and a condition set by the Draker head."
Aurelion chuckled darkly. "Forget the gold. That's pocket change. Accept my condition, and I will end the engagement without dispute."
Asher's eyes locked on his. "What condition?"
"You must withstand one of my attacks."
Gasps filled the chamber. To endure a blow from Aurelion Draker—a master of both sword and sorcery, second only to Samael himself—was a death sentence.
Aurelion smirked thinly. "Don't worry. I won't use my full strength."
"I accept," Asher said instantly, his voice unwavering.
Samael's gaze darkened. "Are you certain, Asher?"
"Yes, Father." His tone was firm, absolute. "I am certain."