The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic

Kael stepped out of the bath, his body relaxed and his mind at ease. The room was luxurious, just as he remembered. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a soft golden glow. Velvet curtains moved gently from the breeze that slipped through the open balcony. The floor was smooth white marble, cool under his feet, and the air carried a rich scent of sandalwood. A sound orb on the wall played soft harp music, adding to the comfort of the room.

He dried himself off with the help of maids and was soon dressed in a deep-blue robe lined with silver embroidery. The fabric felt soft and warm, wrapping him like royalty. He sat back on a padded chair near the dresser, letting out a soft sigh.

"Haaa… I missed this," Kael said with a small smile, running his hand through his wet hair. "I was such an idiot before... leaving all this behind like a fool."

As he savored the moment, enjoying the comfort and attention, a clicking sound echoed from the entrance.

"Still enjoying your little prince fantasy, brat?" a gruff voice called out.

Kael turned with a wide grin spreading across his face. "Uncle Ramos," he said with delight.

"Finally! Come here, old man. Give your favorite nephew a hug."

Ramos stood at the doorway, wearing a dark long coat. His white beard was messy, and his sharp eyes were filled with irritation. He froze in place, as if Kael had just insulted him.

"What did you just say?" Ramos said with a twitch in his eye. "I must've heard wrong."

"I said come here and hug me, you dead old croak," Kael repeated, walking toward him with open arms.

"Don't you dare, you little freak," Ramos said, stepping back with a disgusted look. "Stay away from me. I mean it."

"I love girls not boys."

But before he could react, Kael suddenly appeared right in front of him, faster than expected, and pulled him into a tight hug.

"You bastard! Get off me!" Ramos shouted, struggling like a trapped animal. "You smell like rotten oil and trash!"

Kael laughed. "You're still soft under that bark, old man."

Ramos pushed him away and narrowed his eyes. "How the hell did you reach A-rank so quickly? Last I saw you, you couldn't even punch straight."

Kael only smiled, his eyes glinting with mystery. "Take a wild guess."

"You playing games with me now?" Ramos shouted, stepping forward as if ready to fight. "You brat, I'll beat that smug smile off your face."

Before he could take another step, there was a knock on the door.

"Young Master," a voice called out from outside. "His Grace is looking for you."

Both Kael and Ramos went quiet for a moment.

Ramos slowly turned to him with a wicked grin. "Hehehe… Looks like the old man's ready to butcher you. Want me to tag along and hold your hand?"

Kael gave him a dry look. "And what's the price for that?"

Ramos folded his arms with a smug smirk. "Simple. Kneel before me and beg like a proper little nephew."

Kael rolled his eyes and walked past him toward the door. "Keep dreaming, you dusty relic."

Ramos laughed behind him. "Don't come crying when your bones are broken!"

---

Kael stepped out of his room, dressed neatly in a deep navy coat with silver linings. The familiar sight of the estate's long hallways brought back years of old memories—some warm, many not. Polished floors reflected the warm glow of chandeliers above, and the scent of old wood and lavender filled the air.

Waiting outside was an elderly man with a calm posture and sharp eyes—Rami, the old butler of the estate. He wore the same black suit and gloves as always, with not a hair out of place.

"Young Master Kael," Rami said with a bow, his voice gentle but steady. "His Grace is waiting in the study. Please follow me."

Kael smiled lightly. "You haven't changed a bit, Rami."

"I try not to, young master. Someone needs to keep the traditions standing."

As they walked through the hallway, Kael glanced at the passing portraits and suits of armor along the walls.

"Hey… how's my father doing these days?" he asked, his voice a little hesitant.

Rami walked ahead at a measured pace and replied without looking back. "The same as always, sir. Maintaining that cold, stern look. And frightening."

Kael let out a soft sigh. "Yeah…I can figure it out."

Soon, they stopped before a tall wooden door carved with the family crest of Veydrin. Kael looked up at it, then at the familiar hallway around him.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

"I still remember the first time I came in here," he murmured, rubbing his palms together. "My knees were shaking then too."

He took a breath and reached for the handle. His hand trembled slightly.

'Dealing with this beast is never easy...'

He pushed the door open.

Inside, the Grand Duke's office was just as imposing as he remembered. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, heavy curtains blocked most of the light, and in the center sat a large oak desk stacked with documents.

Behind it sat Ruth Veydrin..his father.

The Grand Duke looked up slowly, pen pausing in his hand. His cold grey eyes locked onto Kael, and for a moment, the room fell into complete silence.

Kael instinctively gulped.

Ruth set his pen down and leaned back in his chair, thick veins twitching visibly across his temple. His voice was rough and low, like stone scraping against stone.

"So… you're finally here."

Kael straightened his posture. "Y-Yes, Father."

Ruth's fingers interlocked as he leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

"Then tell me, Kael… have you enjoyed it enough?"

The air turned heavy in an instant.

A wave of pressure exploded from Ruth's body. The force was suffocating—like a mountain had dropped onto Kael's shoulders. The windows rattled, papers flew off the table, and the furniture creaked from the sheer weight of his aura.

Kael clenched his fists, holding his ground, though sweat began to slide down his temples.

'I knew it… he's still a monster.'

But he looked Ruth straight in the eyes, refusing to look away.

The air between them trembled.

Kael took a slow breath, and in the next instant, a sound similar to a boom seemed to erupt out of nowhere .

A pulse of power erupted from Ruth's body. A vivid bluish aura surged out like a wave, surrounding him in a thick, shimmering haze.

The floor cracked beneath his feet as energy sparked in the air like static lightning.

Across the room, Ruth narrowed his eyes.

Without moving a muscle, a crimson aura began to rise from the Kael body. It was denser, older, like blood soaked in rage. It clashed against Ruth like two storms colliding—blue lightning striking against red fire.

The entire office trembled. Books flew from the shelves, the chandelier above flickered and swayed, and a gust of wind burst from the center of the two auras slamming into the walls.

It was no longer a mere father-son meeting rather it had become a silent war of dominance.

The bluish aura lashed out, sharp and fierce, but the crimson haze responded like an unstoppable tide, pushing back with waves of thick, crushing pressure.

Kael's face tensed. Sweat rolled down his forehead. His arms trembled slightly as he fought to hold his ground. His heart pounded like a war drum, yet his eyes burned with hidden thrill.

'Damn, he isn't holding back.'

'Curse you old man.Is this how you welcome your son?You maniac…'

Behind them, Rami stood silently by the door. Though untouched by the clash, the maelstrom of scattered documents and broken ornaments didn't escape his notice.

He let out a long sigh.

'It seems I'll need to work overtime again… It's okay…'

His eyes shifted to Kael, whose lips twitched in panic, yet whose stance remained grounded and firm.

'Young master is the same as ever. Acting afraid on the outside, but challenging death on the inside. Tch… Will the Master be pleased this time?'

Rami's gaze then fell on the Grand Duke.

Ruth sat stiff in his chair, cold as iron. His eyes gleamed like sharpened blades, stabbing toward Kael with invisible daggers. It was as if he wanted to shred him to pieces just for existing.

Kael clenched his jaw tightly, his knees buckled for a moment but he didn't fall. The force Ruth emitted wasn't just A-rank—it carried the intent to kill. The pressure alone could bring a trained knight to his knees.

But Kael stood still.Not because he wasn't affected but because he refused to yield.

'Old man… I'm only holding back to save your ego,' Kael thought, smirking inwardly despite the pain crawling up his spine. 'If I really unleashed my mental power on you, you'd be the one kneeling… calling me daddy.'

The energy clash lingered for a few more seconds—then suddenly, everything stopped.

The wind died. The crackling auras vanished. The silence returned.

Kael breathed heavily, chest rising and falling as he fought to calm himself. His legs felt numb, but he managed to stay upright. He looked at Ruth.

He wiped out the sweat from his forehead and looked at Ruth.

''Did you enjoy it enough?''

The Grand Duke remained still, arms folded. His expression was as cold and expressionless as ever, but Kael noticed it—the tiniest upward curve at the edge of his lips.

Was that… a smirk?

Ruth finally spoke.

"Hmph," he grunted, the sound deep and rough. "At least now, you're not as disappointing as before."

Kael didn't reply. He just gave a small smile and straightened his back.

That's right, he thought. This time, I'll make you acknowledge me… even if I have to tear the sky open to do it.