Capítulo 8: Facing The Golden Duke

A procession of futuristic, sleek black cars glided in through the main hospital gates — their metallic frames hovering a few inches above the ground due to the jet propellers in place of tires.

The cars were then expertly parked in the driveway, which had been cleared after the news of the Duke's arrival was given to the hospital staff.

An entourage of formally dressed aides and bodyguards swiftly poured out of the vehicles, with one of them rushing to open the door of the car in the lead.

From it emerged a man of imposing presence.

He had a tall stature with well-defined muscles rolling under his luxurious clothes, exuding an air of dominance – like an unyielding wall of refined masculinity.

His golden hair fell past his shoulders in curls, reminiscent of a lion's mane, while his cold gray eyes seemed to regard the world with detached disdain.

A sharply groomed black beard and rugged facial features only enhanced his magnetizing, rough-edged appeal.

Donning a white shirt, black suit, and a matching overcoat that was elegantly draped over his shoulders like a mantle, he surveyed his surroundings with an indifferent grace before striding toward the courtyard.

For a moment, the world itself seemed to halt as if casting a natural spotlight on him.

Since this hospital only catered to elites, everyone here was extremely rich and powerful. Yet, none of them could ever hope to rival the aura of a Duke—especially one as formidable as this.

The crowd before him instinctively parted, reverently giving way and stepping aside long before his bodyguards could even create a safe perimeter.

This man was him.

The Duke of the Golden City of Luxara.

The Overlord of half the Western Safe-Zone.

The Anomaly that even the Spirits feared.

The Dawn's Scourge.

He was my father, Arthur Kaizer Theosbane.

And in an instant, I was standing face-to-face with him.

•••

I won't lie, but his presence so up close was suffocating, almost to the point of compelling me to kneel. It wasn't a coincidence – he was intentionally exerting pressure on me.

But I refused to let any discomfort show on my face.

One thing that my father absolutely despised was weakness. He believed in the rule of strength and thus hated anyone he deemed weak.

So, if I had any hope of convincing him not to cast me out of the family, I needed to appear strong—or at least try.

Yet, as soon as I lifted my gaze and met his eyes, an overwhelming feeling of dread washed over me, forcing me to flinch and look away.

"Samael," he said, his deep, husky voice slicing through the silence.

"F-Father," I replied, struggling to keep my nerves steady.

Ah, no! This was a bad start.

Come on, I didn't need to fear him!

Fine, he didn't love me, but I was still his son. It was not like he would kill me, his own flesh and blood! So, what was there to be scared of?!

I clenched my fists and steeled my resolve before looking up again, meeting his unwavering, callous gaze.

"Father, I'm grateful you came to visit, but you didn't have to trouble yourself—"

"No," the Duke interrupted, his tone calm but devoid of any parental warmth. "I did not come here for you. I came here because of what you did—or rather, didn't do."

Before I could respond, he continued, not giving me a window to speak.

"You got into another fight. This time with the orphaned son of two martyrs. As if that wasn't bad enough, you also lost. How do you manage to lose to someone who wasn't even Awakened until a few days ago?"

I slightly inclined my head but maintained eye contact.

"I have no excuse, father. That guy was powerful. His Origin Card was best for fighting multiple opponents. He copied our powers and used them against us one after another—"

—Thwap!

A large open palm abruptly struck the side of my cheek, too fast for my eyes to follow, leaving me unable to react.

My head whipped to the side from the impact, and I lost my balance, stumbling to one knee. Everything blurred for a moment as the whole world started spinning.

My entire body went numb. Only the stinging pain across my face registered clearly. It all happened so quickly that I struggled to grasp what had just occurred.

Then I realized. He slapped me.

A small herd of onlookers had gathered around us, watching this whole spectacle unfold from behind the perimeter of the bodyguards. I heard their gasps and the murmur of whispers in the distance.

But the very next moment, my father's booming voice silenced all other sounds in the background.

"First, you lose to a peasant, and then you dare justify your failure? How can you behave in such a cowardly manner, unbecoming of a high noble? You have brought dishonor not only to yourself and me but to our entire bloodline."

He grasped a fistful of my hair and effortlessly hauled me to my feet, making me stand back up.

I stifled a painful grunt as he continued without letting go of his hold on me:

"You are a disgrace. An utter embarrassment. This is not the first time you've pulled a stunt like this, and I doubt it will be the last. Your constant cries for attention and need for validation have gone too far. I endured your pathetic antics because I believed you had at least some use. But it seems I was mistaken."

With no hint of mercy, he released my hair and shoved me back by the head. I tripped but managed to stay upright.

"Tell me why I should acknowledge a pathetic worm like you as my son. Give me one reason to keep you within our illustrious family despite the shame you have put upon us, not just today but for years with your scandalous and despicable acts. Why should I tolerate you?"

Every word from him cut into my heart like a dagger, each one sharper than the last. I had always known he despised me, but this was a new depth of hatred.

That was fine, though. I didn't need his love. I didn't need his approval.

I needed to survive.

For that, I required power—the power that I was not about to just hand over to him simply because he deemed me unworthy of this illustrious family.

I had him right where I wanted, saying things I needed him to say.

From here, I could easily twist his own words against him, playing on his honor, reputation, and most importantly, his pride.

I stared dead into his eyes as a slight smile formed on my lips. Without a speck of fear or hesitation, I spoke:

"As I said, I have no excuses, Father. Your disappointment in me is completely justified," I began, letting the admission linger for a moment.

"But ask yourself this: What will people say if you disown me over a single loss? They won't see it as a sign of strength. They'll see it as insecurity, as fear that our great bloodline cannot handle adversity."

His eyes flared with something akin to anger, but I pressed on.

"I lost. I admit that I failed. And that failure demands punishment. But don't punish me by stripping away my chance to redeem myself," I implored, letting false emotion seep into my voice.

The onlookers began to mutter softly, and I knew it was time to put on my best theatrical performance.

"If you truly believe in our family's strength and legacy, then give me a chance to reclaim the honor I lost. Let me show the world that the Theosbanes can overcome any challenge! Let me prove myself worthy!"

I paused, gauging his reaction as the murmurs around us grew louder, then delivered the final blow.

"Apex Academy's entrance exam is in a few days. If you allow me, I will ace it and have my revenge on that boy. I'll make a statement, showing everyone that Theosbanes are not to be trifled with. Just give me this chance, Father. Let me win back my pride."

The crowd erupted in a round of cheers. Even the bodyguards, who were usually trained to be silent and stoic, appeared taken aback.

People love a good redemption arc, after all. And that was what I had just sold them.

Juliana, who was standing nearby, looked surprised as well. Albeit for a different reason. I don't think she expected me to talk back to my father at all.

As for my father, his expression remained inscrutable.

I held my breath, hoping I had swayed him.

I had cornered him in this argument. He couldn't refuse my request in front of so many people without tarnishing his noble image.

But, in the end, he was a Duke. He didn't need to abide by the rules. He could do whatever the fuck he pleased.

And just then, a cold smile slowly spread across his face as everyone in the vicinity fell into silence once more.

"You've become very clever with words, Samael," he said, his tone tinged with dark amusement. "Trying to turn my image against me using everyone present here. Brilliant. Though, still pathetic."

Ahh, fuck.

I swallowed hard, realizing my attempt to influence him hadn't worked.

"But you are right. Stripping you of a chance to redeem yourself would be unjust. However, I will not wait for the entrance exam to see if you are worthy, only for you to disappoint me again. If you truly wish to prove yourself, do it the way any true Theosbane would. Do it through strength. And do it right here."

My heart sank. I instantly knew what he meant.

But he wouldn't actually…

Would he?

That'd be insane!

Yet, I had a faint guess of what was coming.

"If you don't want to be cast out, you will fight for it. You will fight me for it. Samael Kaizer Theosbane, I hereby offer you a chance! A trial by combat! A Rite of Valor! If you fare well against me, I will not only deem you worthy to be my son but also my successor, placing you next in line for my title instead of your sister. Refuse or lose, and you will be banished from our family until you achieve a feat worthy of our lineage. Make your choice."

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