Yinan planted his foot firmly on that severed head, his face covered in blood, eyes blazing with a chilling, savage light.
“Everyone… the War is about to begin, but some of you still wish to shrink back at the last moment.” Yinan revealed a faint smile. “I’ll use him as an offering to rally the troops—surely none of you mind?”
The Nobles present exchanged uneasy glances; not one dared to respond first.
“Even if he was a Noble!” Yinan’s voice grew heavier, grinding his heel down—the head beneath his foot let out a sickening, muffled crack. “In the face of War, anyone who undermines the army’s morale will meet only one end—death! I don’t care about his birth! His status means nothing!”
Neve’s lips trembled; she wanted to speak, but was so stunned by Yinan’s presence that her words caught in her throat.
“Lord Yinan, we all see your resolve.” At last, she summoned her courage. “But you truly shouldn’t be so rash!”
“Miss Neve, everything I do is for your sake…” Yinan narrowed his eyes, the blood on his face trickling slowly down his cheek. “Your heart is kind and filled with justice; you wish to protect the innocent in this cruel War. But today, if the first one leaves, there will be a second! How will your ideals ever be realized then?”
Neve bit her lip, her heart in turmoil. Yinan’s words made sense, but his methods were far too extreme.
The Feast ended in disharmony; Neve only gave Yinan a few perfunctory warnings, which was, in the end, tacit approval of his actions.
“This Yinan… is rather interesting.” Neve sipped her Tea slowly. “He’s helped me quite a bit…”
Her Retainer served her a plate of Chocolate Mousse—Neve’s favorite dessert. “Indeed, miss, perhaps she truly can help you seize the Countess title!”
Neve’s brow furrowed. She splashed the scalding Tea directly onto the Retainer’s face.
The Retainer screamed in pain, her face swelling red in an instant as the hot Tea scalded her skin.
She looked at Neve in terror, dropping to her knees with a thud, her whole body trembling.
“You think I’m nothing without him?!” Neve’s eyes were wide with fury. She slammed her teacup to the ground—porcelain shards flew in every direction.
Neve picked up a fragment, walked to the Retainer, and pressed the shard against her face. “Such a pretty face—it’d only be perfect with a mark, don’t you think?”
The Retainer’s face went pale with fright. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead as she pleaded desperately, “Please, miss, spare me! I won’t dare again!”
Agonized screams echoed in the room… In that moment, Neve finally dropped her mask of kindness. The ruthlessness in her eyes was a world apart from before.
Meanwhile, Yinan carried the Viscount’s severed head to Earl Weir’s estate…
When Earl Weir heard a young Baron had beheaded a Viscount at Neve’s Feast—and even dared to bring the head here—he found it highly amusing…
So he received Yinan in his study, curious to see what this young man wanted.
“Speak your purpose…” Weir rubbed the ring on his finger, the sparse white hair on his head betraying his advanced age. “If I don’t like what I hear, you won’t leave this room.”
At such an age, one should be enjoying a peaceful retirement, yet Weir still harbored ambition. In the Isol Empire, that was truly rare.
Yinan met Weir’s threatening gaze head-on, utterly unflinching. He placed the head on the floor and knelt on one knee. “Earl, I have made a mistake.”
Earl Weir raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Oh? Speak…”
“I should have captured this coward alive and brought him before you…” Yinan said, head bowed, each word clear and forceful. “It should have been for you to decide his fate. That would have displayed your authority, and let all know—the fate of traitors is yours to determine.”
“Heh…” Earl Weir did not answer Yinan directly. He narrowed his eyes, studying Yinan with great interest. “Raise your head…”
Yinan lifted his head slowly, meeting Earl Weir’s probing gaze with calm confidence.
Weir scrutinized him, as if trying to read every thought on his face.
“You do have a way with words.” Earl Weir’s lips curled into a faint, barely noticeable smile. “Your eyes look much like mine did in my youth…”
Yinan’s heart stirred, but he maintained his respectful demeanor. “To bear a slight resemblance to you, my lord, is the honor of Yinan Hill. I imagine, in your youth, you too despised evil and tolerated no betrayal or cowardice.”
“Don’t feed me flattery! The arrogance of youth is expected… Fortunately, you know your place.” Weir waved his hand; a servant stepped behind Yinan with a whip. “These ten lashes are a lesson for you!”
This was Earl Weir’s way of testing and asserting his authority. In this world ruled by the strong, a single moment of weakness would nullify all Yinan’s earlier efforts.
“Thank you for your teaching, my lord. Yinan accepts the punishment willingly.” Yinan’s voice was steady; he straightened his back, showing no fear.
At Weir’s signal, the servant raised the whip and brought it down hard on Yinan’s back.
With a sharp crack, the whip tore through the air.
Agonizing pain shot through Yinan’s back, but he clenched his teeth and did not make a sound.
Lash after lash fell. Yinan’s shirt split open, blood soaking into the tattered fabric.
After ten lashes, his back was torn and bloody, blood trickling down his spine, dripping onto the floor.
Yet Yinan’s expression did not change. “Thank you for your discipline, my lord. I shall remember this lesson and serve you loyally in the future.”
Earl Weir looked at Yinan, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. “Stand up, young man… I hope you satisfy me in the coming War. If you do, perhaps I’ll make you a Viscount…”
Yinan, enduring the burning pain in his back, slowly rose and bowed deeply. “Thank you for your favor, my lord. Yinan will not disappoint your expectations.”
Yinan had accomplished his aims.
He had used the Viscount as an example in Neve’s ranks, cementing his position among them.
Then, by offering his loyalty to Weir, he erased any lingering suspicions…
After all, if anyone crossed Yinan in the future, he could use this as justification to strike them down!
But he only ever wanted to be the one striking, never the one struck!
As for being disciplined by Weir—!?
In this Game of Power, such humiliation was but a stepping stone to his goal…
Though Yinan’s whole body was stained with blood, a twisted smile crept across his face!
Now, Yinan had returned to his temporary quarters, collapsing onto the bed.
Ailinxue quietly sat beside him, gently applying ointment to his wounds…
Gazing at the ghastly whip marks on Yinan’s back, Ailinxue knew—this man was only going to grow more and more dangerous!