The sky over the Vayne March turned a deep, bruised crimson, as if the universe were foretelling the bloodshed soon to follow.
From the second-floor balcony, Azura Vayne stood with her fingers rhythmically tapping against the marble balustrade.
Below, a carriage bearing the crest of a pheasant—the crest of the Meren family, now faded and worn—stopped squarely in front of the main gate.
It was not the carriage of a high-ranking noble arriving to offer condolences; it was the carriage of a scavenger coming to pick the remaining meat off a bone.
[Krrrkk…
Glitch…]
[System: Scanning…
Object detected: One unit of a male hog masquerading as a human, with a greed-cholesterol level of 99%.
Name: Silas Meren.
Relation: Biological (unfortunately).
Suggestion: Don’t let him step on your luxury carpet, Boss.
He smells like gambling debt and life failure.]
”Let him in, Arthur,” Azura said softly through a small magic communication device on her collar.
“But do not take him to the drawing room.
Lead him to the small dining hall in the west wing.
I want him to feel hungry before I feed him.”
Arthur, standing at attention by the gate with his line of new guards, bowed toward the balcony.
“At once, Your Grace.”
Silas Meren stepped into the castle with the swagger of a victor.
He adjusted his slightly frayed collar, staring up at the crystal chandeliers with eyes that gleamed with avarice.
To him, Azura was nothing more than an investment that had finally paid off.
The weak girl he used to lock in dark cellars without food was now sitting atop the gold of the Vayne family.
”Ah, my beloved daughter!” Silas exclaimed as he saw Azura enter the dining room.
He attempted to spread his arms for a hug, but Arthur quickly blocked his path with the hilt of his sword.
”Keep your distance, Baron Meren,” Arthur’s voice sounded like a low growl.
Silas huffed, then sat in a chair without being invited.
“How crude.
Is this how you educate your servants, Azura?
I am your father!
Without me, you would never have become a Marchioness!”
Azura sat at the opposite end of the long table.
She didn’t touch any of the food laid out.
“What do you want, Silas?
I am busy clearing the rats out of this castle.
Make sure you don’t get swept up with them.”
Silas laughed—a raspy, sickening sound.
“Straight to the point?
Good.
I like your openness.
I need 50,000 gold coins.
Now.
My grain business is struggling, and I have several debts that must be settled immediately.”
”50,000 gold coins?” Azura raised an eyebrow.
“That is an expensive price for a father who didn’t even bother to attend my husband’s funeral.”
”Don’t play games with me, little girl!” Silas slammed the table, his face flushing red.
“I know who you really are.
I know your fears.
If you don’t give me the money, I will go to the Church and tell them you are a madwoman, mentally unstable.
I will tell them how you used to crawl at my feet, begging for mercy while I whipped you.
Do you think they will let a ‘broken woman’ like you rule a territory this vast?”
Azura fell silent for a moment.
Inside her head, old memories swirled—the sting of the whip on her back, the cold floor of the cellar, and Silas’s laughter as he watched the original Azura cry in terror.
The trauma was real, pulsing beneath her skin.
[System: Spike in heart rate detected.
Boss, the original body’s trauma is triggered.
Shall I activate ‘Anti-Empathy’ mode, or should we let the Mafia Boss switch to ‘Butcher’ mode?]
Let me handle it, System.
I owe this body one thing: Justice.
”Only 50,000?” Azura stood up, her smile now appearing sweet, yet her eyes were hollow.
“You underestimate yourself, Father.
Why not 100,000?
I have plenty of gold in the vaults that the elders haven’t even had the chance to inspect yet.”
Silas’s eyes widened.
“100,000?
Truly?”
”Of course.
But the magic vault can only be opened by an immediate family member.
Come with me.
I will show you what the Marquis left for me.”
Silas, blinded by the numbers in his head, stood up eagerly.
“Of course!
Certainly!
That’s how it should be!”
Arthur gave Azura a questioning look, but Azura only returned a cold, sharp glance.
Arthur understood.
He immediately prepared a torch.
They descended to the lowest floor, passing the kitchen stores until they reached a damp iron door.
The air here was cold and smelled of earth.
Silas suspected nothing; he simply continued to mutter about what he would buy with the money.
”In here,” Azura opened a cell door that was more spacious than Hilda’s.
Inside, there was only an old wooden chair with restraints and several iron instruments hanging on the wall.
”Where is the gold?” Silas stepped inside, looking around for a vault.
”The gold is right here, Silas,” Azura said as she stood at the threshold.
“But you must pay your final ‘dowry’ first.”
Click.
The cell door locked from the outside.
Arthur stood behind Azura, holding a torch whose light danced across Azura’s face, making her look like an angel of death.
”What is the meaning of this?!
Open the door!” Silas shouted, banging against the iron bars.
”Arthur, strap him to that chair,” Azura commanded flatly.
”Yes, Your Grace.” Arthur entered through a small gap, and with his military strength, he easily subdued the weak Silas.
Within minutes, Silas was bound tightly to the wooden chair in the center of the room.
Azura stepped inside, picking up a horsewhip hanging from the wall.
She flicked it into the air—Crack!—the sound echoed in the cramped space.
”You said you remember how I crawled at your feet, Silas?” Azura approached the man.
“I remember too.
I remember the pain.
I remember how you laughed when the skin on my back split open.”
”That…
that was to educate you!
You were a useless child!” Silas spat, though his voice was trembling.
”An eye for an eye, Silas.
That is my law now,” Azura turned her back to Silas, gesturing for Arthur to tear the shirt from the old man’s back.
RIIIP!
Silas’s pale, flabby back was now exposed.
Azura swung the whip with precise technique—not just striking, but tearing.
CRACK!
”AAAGHHH!” Silas screamed to the heavens.
”That is for the first year I was locked in the cellar,” Azura said calmly.
CRACK!
”That is for every time you struck my head with your wine bottle.”
Each lash was accompanied by a narrative of pain from the past.
Azura didn’t look angry; she looked professional, as if performing a routine chore.
In a dark corner outside the cell, a small shadow moved.
Caspian Vayne stood there, hidden behind a stone pillar.
His eyes were wide, his breath hitched.
He had followed Azura because he wanted to know what his “stepmother” was doing with the guest from Meren.
However, the scene before him was far beyond his expectations.
Caspian saw Azura—the girl he thought was just a power-hungry madwoman—now torturing her own father with terrifying composure.
A chill ran down Caspian’s spine, but there was also something else.
Something that felt like…
security.
She isn’t doing this just for revenge, Caspian thought as he stared at Azura’s back.
She is destroying every bridge that connects her to her weakness.
After the tenth lash, Silas no longer screamed.
He only groaned, his body limp, and the stench of urine began to fill the cell.
Azura stopped.
She laid down the whip and took a small gold coin from her pocket.
She dropped the coin right in front of Silas’s bowed face.
”This is the fare for your journey home, Silas.
Take it with your mouth,” Azura said coldly.
”P-mercy…
Azura…
I am your father…” Silas whimpered.
”You are not my father.
You are just a biological mistake I’ve just corrected,” Azura turned to look at Arthur.
“Arthur, drag him out.
Throw him into that rotten carriage of his.
If he or anyone from the Meren family dares to approach the Vayne gates again, do not bring them here.
Behead them immediately and send their heads in a jewelry box to the Meren estate.”
”Understood, Your Grace,” Arthur bowed deeply, his respect now manifold.
Azura stepped out of the cell.
As she passed the pillar where Caspian was hiding, she stopped for a moment without turning around.
”Caspian,” she called out softly.
Caspian flinched, his body freezing.
”If you want to be a leader, you must know when to use the blade, and when to use fear.
Go to sleep.
By tomorrow morning, this castle will truly be clean.”
Azura walked away, leaving Caspian still rooted in the underground darkness.
[System: Wow, Boss.
‘Eye for an Eye’ score: 100/100.
Silas Meren now has permanent psychological trauma toward the sound of whips and the scent of marble.
Oh, and Caspian?
He seems to have realized he’s better off as your ally than your enemy.
‘Protector Monster’ reputation up drastically!]
Quiet, System.
Prepare the data for tomorrow.
We still have business with the secret letters in the Marquis’s magic vault.
Azura climbed the stairs, leaving the smell of blood and earth below.
For her, one burden of the past had been settled.
Now, it was time to focus on the larger conspiracy waiting behind the walls of Vayne Castle.