Ruth kept mocking Lyman with a calm expression on his face, which Lyman could not tolerate. The fact that the son of a cheap prostitute was daring to challenge his authority infuriated him.

“A great person creates a great family, and from that great family, another great person is born. Do you think you got to where you are because of your father? The son of Vera’s lowly prostitute—how dare you think that without the name Kaizel, you would have risen through the knightly ranks to reach the position of commander?”

“I never wished for that,” Ruth replied.

“That’s nothing but an ungrateful complaint. Anyone would say that. But what do you think is left of you once you remove Kaizel from your name? If it weren’t for me, if it weren’t for the Kaizel name, you would have rolled in the streets of Vera as a worthless prostitute’s son, selling your body for a loaf of bread by now.”

“It would be better than being killed by my father,” Ruth said with a strong expression of disdain.

Lyman trembled with fury at Ruth’s words. “Is that your honest opinion?”

“Yes,” Ruth replied coldly.

For a moment, Lyman lost his composure. Ruth’s actions, which he couldn’t understand or accept, made him grab the sword of the knight standing beside him. He stepped forward and pointed the blade at Ruth’s neck. Despite the sword’s point being aimed at him, Ruth maintained a serene expression. His words about having prepared for everything seemed to be sincere.

“Where is Ail Linus?” Lyman demanded.

“I cannot tell you,” Ruth replied.

“I will ask you one last time. Where is he?” Lyman’s hand trembled with fury, causing the tip of the sword to shake. Ruth smiled faintly, twisting his lips.

“When holding a sword and targeting someone’s neck, your hand shouldn’t shake. It signals to your opponent that you’re not focused. This gives them the chance to find an opening. A person who trembles while holding a sword will lose,” Ruth said, reciting a part from a military manual in a relaxed tone.

Lyman, unable to control his anger, slapped Ruth’s cheek with his unarmed hand. Then, he swung the hilt of the sword to strike Ruth’s temple, causing a loud thud as Ruth’s body collapsed to the floor.

Lyman, still seething, began to kick Ruth in the side and stomach. The sound of his kicks and his angry shouts echoed through the room.

“Useless bastard! Do you know why I raised you? If you have any gratitude, then tell me where the crown prince is! If he returns alive, we’re all dead! I can’t let everything go to waste now!”

Lyman screamed as he continued to beat Ruth. He was cornered—if he didn’t deal with Ail, he would be the one to die. Before Ail could return to the imperial family in Karileum, everything had to be dealt with. Lyman had no time to waste. Just moments before entering this room, his future had seemed bright, but Ruth’s very presence had thrown it all into turmoil, and this was what clouded his mind.

After several minutes of frenzied kicking, Lyman finally stopped, exhaling harshly, his anger subsiding. Ruth, who had endured the beating without a single groan, lay on the floor clutching his stomach.

Ruth’s hair was disheveled, and blood was beginning to seep from his forehead and lips. Swallowing a groan, he curled up in pain, and Lyman looked down at him, once again pointing the sword at Ruth’s neck.

“Where is Ail Linus?” Lyman demanded again.

This time, Ruth didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The pain in his abdomen was too great for him to even take a breath. He could only hold his body in place, enduring the agony.

Seeing this, Lyman couldn’t bring himself to wait. His mind was filled only with impatience.

“I’m asking again. Where is Ail Linus?”

Ruth’s continued silence caused Lyman’s eyes to fill with madness. It was the last desperate struggle of a man cornered. Unable to control the boiling fury inside him, he clenched the sword tightly and raised it. He was about to bring it down on Ruth’s neck.

Just then, a voice rang out:

“Chancellor!”

At the call of the knight standing behind him, Lyman barely regained his composure and stopped the sword. However, his eyes were still filled with anger and contempt. He had planned to completely eliminate both Ail and Ruth, but now, seeing them both alive and mocking him, his pride had been wounded beyond words. Although he wanted to tear Ruth apart right there, he held back for the sake of finding out Ail’s whereabouts. Once he confirmed where Ail was, he intended to kill Ruth immediately.

Suppressing the boiling rage inside, Lyman lowered his sword and knelt in front of Ruth. This time, he spoke softly, trying to soothe him.

“Ruth, think carefully. If this continues, Leia will be executed. And what crime has Leysha committed? There isn’t much time left. Once Ail Linus is gone, the world will be ours. If that happens, I will reward you. If you have any grievances with me, I will compensate you for them.”

After Lyman finished speaking, Ruth took a deep breath and looked up at him. He didn’t respond verbally, but his eyes were repeating the same words. The moment Lyman saw those eyes, he realized that talking was futile. Ruth’s will was already firm. Yet, despite that, he decided to give him one last chance.

“I will give you the Kaizel family. Not Eilen, but I will designate you as my successor. Let’s make a deal. Where is Ail Linus?”

Seeing Ruth repeat the same words like a parrot, Lyman felt a surge of frustration, but he tried again, his voice strained.

“Then what do you want?”

“…Your downfall.”

Ruth answered plainly, staring directly into Lyman’s eyes. The hatred in those eyes made Lyman slam Ruth’s head down and stand up. This time, he stepped on Ruth’s neck with his foot and asked again.

“So, you really want to die?”

Lyman’s sword now pointed at Ruth’s heart. Ruth glanced at the sharp, gleaming blade, then lifted his gaze to look at Lyman. After taking one final deep breath, he spoke in a calm voice.

“I have one question for you.”

“Are you asking me to spare you now?”

Lyman’s foot pressed down on Ruth’s neck, and Ruth struggled to breathe, gasping for air. After a few moments, when the pressure on his neck eased, he managed to exhale and ask.

“Until now… have you ever loved my mother, even for a moment? And have you ever, even for a moment, considered me your son?”

“What? That bastard’s love… Ha, that’s truly laughable. What is it with you and Leysha, both so obsessed with love? A woman is a flower. In this world, the one who picks the most beautiful and glorious flower is the victor. That’s all I did—I took the flower of the victor. And you… If you can’t sacrifice yourself for me, for our family, then you’re not my son. A true son would willingly throw himself into the flames for me! A rebel is nothing but worthless trash!”

Ruth’s heart was torn apart by the venomous words falling like daggers. His heart bled, cut in all directions, and drops of blood fell. At the same time, tears began to stream down Ruth’s face.

The tears were not from sadness, nor from pain, nor from being hurt by Lyman’s words. It was simply tears of loss.

“Now, you must die, Ruth.”

Lyman raised his sword high and aimed it directly at Ruth’s heart with both hands.

“Soon, the man you love more than anything will be sent to you. You won’t be lonely on your way.”

Lyman’s hands moved. The sword fell, and his hands descended as though they were in freefall. Ruth, looking at the sword, closed his eyes with a calm expression. The end was near.

There was a sharp sound, like a whistle, and the sword Lyman held fell to the ground. Not knowing what had happened, he finally noticed the throwing star lodged in his right shoulder. He now realized he was injured.

“Lyman!”

Amid the sudden attack, two knights rushed toward Lyman, while a throwing star flew through the open window. The star brushed past Lyman and the knights’ shoulders and legs.

“Who’s there?”

As the knights shouted while holding their swords, an eerie sound of a flute could be heard from outside the inn. At the sound, Lyman and the knights froze. And as the haunting melody continued, they widened their eyes and frantically looked around. The sound was a signal announcing the hunt of the Red Scorpions. The piercing, high-pitched sound stimulated their nerves. Knowing the brutal and merciless human hunting methods of the Red Scorpions, they began to tremble in fear.

Lyman, recognizing the sound immediately, shouted to one of his knights.

“Brook! Call the mercenaries!”

As the man called Brook moved toward the door, another knight led Lyman to the window, where they closed it and drew the curtains. Only then did Ruth rise and silently look at Lyman. Realizing Ruth’s gaze, Lyman quietly turned toward him and asked,

“Did you… do this?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve done something foolish. Outside this annex, my mercenaries are stationed.”

Lyman was confident. He fully believed that the hundred mercenaries he had hired would come and protect him. The audacity of Ruth trying to kill him with such a method made him lament Ruth’s foolishness.

However, Lyman’s smug smile faded with Ruth’s next words.

“You didn’t hire them.”

“… What?”

When Lyman asked in confusion, Ruth slowly rose from his seat and brushed off his clothes. He then spoke calmly.

“I hired them. Through the Red Scorpions, I had mercenaries stationed along the route you would take.”

At Ruth’s words, the knight who had been pulling the throwing star from Lyman’s shoulder froze. Ruth wiped the blood from his mouth with a handkerchief, pressing it against his temple as he looked at Lyman. He slowly walked over to the window, where he grabbed the curtain and stood in front of it.

“The knights of Karileum you brought with you are likely imprisoned in the underground storage by now. There were two signals. If I had quietly walked out alive, you would have been able to return safely to Karileum. But if my life was in danger, the hunt of the Red Scorpions would begin. Now, you are the prey.”

As soon as Ruth finished speaking, he opened the curtain, and with a loud crash, the door flew open. At the sound, Lyman and the knights stood up, swords drawn, only for something to roll into the room. At first, Lyman and the knights didn’t understand what it was, but they soon realized that it was the head of Brook, who had gone out earlier. They froze in horror.

There had been no scream, no clash of swords. Brook, who was one of the finest swordsmen in Karileum, had been decapitated without even having a chance to resist. The Red Scorpions were known for preferring long-range combat and slowly wearing down their prey, not being known for quick and precise assassinations. But in that moment, they demonstrated how easily and quickly they could kill. Their use of long-range hunting was simply for their ‘enjoyment.’

Looking at the severed head of Brook, Ruth calmly explained,

“This annex is now empty. The hunt of the Red Scorpions has already begun. They will chase you until you’re dead. Now, try to escape. Let’s see how far you can go.”

His face was cold, and his voice was low and detached as he calmly urged Lyman to flee. Lyman, gritting his teeth, glared at Ruth.

“You… I’ll never let you live. I’ll kill you first.”

As Lyman spoke, the sound of horses’ hooves could be heard—no fewer than twenty horses. Realizing that the Red Scorpions’ tracking party was closing in, Lyman shot Ruth one last frustrated look and rushed out of the room with his knights. As they reached the corridor, a long, eerie flute sound echoed once again.

Shuddering at the sound, Lyman and the knights sprinted down the corridor. Listening to their footsteps fade into the distance, Ruth slumped into a chair by the window. After a moment, the door to the next room opened, and light footsteps entered the room. Soon, a young servant boy and two desert dwellers walked in.

Ruth didn’t look at them. With his head tilted back in exhaustion, he pressed his fingers to his temples, looking as though he were trying to relieve a headache.

“… Were you disappointed?”