Farmboy becomes King with the Lust System

The Duke raised his hand calmly.

Not with any grand gesture. Just a simple lift of his fingers, slow and deliberate. And yet, the effect was instant. The tension that had settled thickly over the room dissolved in an instant.

There was a flicker of subtle amusement in the Duke's eyes, and while he said nothing more at first, the faint lift at the corners of his mouth told a deeper truth. He wasn't bothered by the bickering between his sons. In fact, it entertained him. Despite the words that would follow, he enjoyed watching them clash, compete, push each other. It made them sharper. Hungrier. More alive.

"Dae," the Duke said, turning his gaze toward the second son, his voice laced with that low, quiet command that always demanded full attention, "you should be nicer to your little brother."

The sentence hung between them like a half-joke and half-warning.

But the faint smirk on his face betrayed his true sentiment, he wasn't truly scolding anyone. Not really. His tone might have sounded parental on the surface, but beneath it was a current of satisfaction.

The three boys sat down in the chairs laid out for them near the center of the room. Each moved with familiarity, but their postures told different stories.

Dae dropped into his seat with a small exhale, legs stretched out slightly, his back angled like he couldn't be bothered to sit properly. His arms draped over the sides, exuding casual arrogance.

Moon, the eldest, sat upright and still, his posture composed and unreadable. He was the type who could hold his breath for an hour and still look perfectly in control. His face betrayed nothing, but his gaze was steady, always watching.

Byun, on the other hand, sat straight with his back taut and shoulders squared. He moved with practiced discipline, his body language an unconscious performance of respect.

The Duke shifted in his grand seat, the high-backed chair creaking softly as he turned his body slightly. His attention settled on Byun with a subtle narrowing of his eyes.

"I heard about your tournament," he said, tone unreadable.

Byun dipped his head, keeping his gaze low for a moment. "I did what was necessary, Father."

There was no pride in his voice. No boasting. Just composure. Clean, precise humility.

The Duke studied him for a moment longer, stroking his beard with two fingers in slow, thoughtful passes. His expression remained outwardly neutral, but his eyes, those sharp, pale eyes, held a glint of approval at his son being able to make the tough choices.

"And this Jae," the Duke continued, his voice casual but purposeful. "Was he truly powerful in that match?"

Byun shifted slightly. His hand rose, seemingly of its own accord, fingers brushing the back of his neck where sweat had once clung during that fight. He glanced off to the side for a breath, not quite avoiding the question, but certainly weighing it.

"He showed potential, of course," Byun replied carefully. "But he's still very weak. If I'd wanted to, I could've ended it in two moves. Maybe even one."

Dae chuckled under his breath at that, a dry sound that didn't need words. Moon simply nodded once, his reaction subdued, like he'd expected that answer before it was even spoken

The Duke leaned back a little more, fingers now tracing the edge of the armrest with absent thought. His beard moved under his hand again, this time slower. His eyes had drifted, but his mind was clearly turning.

"It's important," he said after a pause, "to let him develop under the best conditions possible. A tree forced to bloom too early often dies. But left in the right soil, with time and pressure, it becomes something unshakable."

Silence followed.

Not awkward. Not uncomfortable. Just thick with thought. The Duke's words were rarely just observations, they were usually layered. Somewhere between advice and instruction. And everyone in the room knew that.

Byun tilted his head slightly. "How was your trip, Father?"

That question changed the air.

Immediately, the Duke's expression darkened. His fingers, once moving, paused mid-stroke on his beard. His jaw tightened, just slightly, and the silence that followed was different now, colder, heavier.

"There were two dungeons," he said, slowly. His voice was lower, more deliberate. "One just outside the academy grounds… and another, much farther away. In a remote town."

Even Dae, usually unbothered, straightened slightly in his seat.

"The one near the academy is still stable," the Duke went on. "Manageable. Contained. But the other…" He shook his head once. "The other was far more dangerous than expected. It spawned deadly creatures, twisted things unlike anything I've seen in years. It took everything we had to suppress it. Me. The top mages in the region. Even then, there was… considerable destruction."

He didn't elaborate and honestly he didn't need to, the word destruction carried its own quiet horrors.

Moon's brows drew together. "Why would such dungeons appear so suddenly?"

Dae, unexpectedly serious, responded before their father could. "There's something wrong with the balance of energy in the world. I could feel it even before we reached the town. Like the ground itself was humming, off-pitch. Wrong."

The Duke nodded grimly. "That's what I suspected. And I believe it's due to a Shadow Rift. Somewhere near."

Byun inhaled sharply, his eyes widening. "A Shadow Rift? Are you certain?"

The Duke looked him in the eye. "Yes. That's why I summoned you. You must return to the principal. Inform him. Quietly. If a rift has opened, it must be found, and sealed, before it grows."

The gravity of that statement hit like a blow to the chest.

Shadow Rifts weren't just anomalies. They were cracks in the order of the world. Portals through which chaos bled, slowly, then violently. infecting land, beasts, and people alike.

Byun didn't speak right away. He was absorbing it. Measuring the weight of the trust being placed in him.

"I understand," he said at last.

The Duke gave a small nod, eyes steady. "You've matured. This won't be easy. But I believe you're ready."