The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic-Chapter 268

Ruth didn’t move for a while. His crimson gaze slid slowly toward Kael like a sword being drawn.

It was cold, judging, and utterly pleased.

"It seems," Ruth said with a voice like winter frost, "you lack heavily in manners... and in etiquette."

Kael’s spine stiffened. A smile tugged nervously at his lips, but he didn’t dare offer an excuse.

He instinctively raised both hands and bowed slightly, accepting the inevitable.

"...I admit that much."

’It’s better not to piss him and get my ass kicked."

What followed was a long-winded, thunderous grumble from the Grand Duke. Ruth began listing out virtues, duties, and responsibilities like he was reading from the Veydrin Nobility Handbook, Vol. I to XIII. Kael stood there nodding at regular intervals like a penitent student being lectured by the headmaster from hell.

At some point, he even looked at the sky outside the window and sighed dramatically.

The long wait was finally over.

Then, Kael suddenly cleared his throat and tried to pivot the conversation.

"So, uh... what was in that letter?"

His eyes flicked to the golden paper still lying on the table. If the letter wasn’t from the Emperor, Kael wouldn’t have even cared. But the tension earlier had made it clear—it was something big.

Without a word, Ruth picked up the letter and flicked it toward Kael.

"Huh?"

Kael blinked and clumsily caught it in both hands. As he stared down at the elegant envelope, his jaw slackened.

"Can I read it?"

Question marks appeared over his head. He didn’t think Ruth would just send him the letter directly.

The letter was crafted from a heavy, velvety parchment—edges gilded in gold leaf, ink traced with a shimmering metallic finish. The imperial crest was embossed in high relief, practically glowing in the sunlight.

"This... this thing is probably worth more than my entire wardrobe," Kael whispered.

"Is it even legal for me to look at this?" he asked, holding it up like it was holy scripture.

Ruth didn’t even look at him. He just waved his hand with a grunt.

Taking that as permission, Kael moved to the sofa, plopped down, crossed one leg over the other, and began to read.

As his eyes scanned line after line, his brows pulled together into a tight frown.

"Balls, invitations... Crown Games... events... so many formalities..hold up."

His finger halted at a phrase.

"Chief Endorser of Security."

"Hey, what’s this Chief Endorser of—"

"Enforcer," Ruth corrected coldly.

"Right, Enforcer. What’s that supposed to be? Like, security detail?"

Ruth’s lips twitched into something between amusement and menace.

"To accompany His Majesty and ensure the mission is carried out... including saving him from any assassination or attack if needed."

Kael nodded as if that made total—

"Wait, WHAT?!"

He nearly dropped the letter.

"That’s legal?!"

Then..You weren’t kidding when you said if Adele tried to rebel, you’d cut her down? That wasn’t some poetic metaphor?!"

Ruth looked at him, eyes like frozen rubies and asked with coldness"What do you feel?"

Kael stared, slack-jawed.

’Holy shit, this maniac wasn’t joking... He’d really butcher his own kid. No hesitation. No blinking. He’s not even human—he’s built for imperial politics!

Who the hell was in charge of my reincarnation? That bastard messed up by a hair’s breadth...’

Kael slowly put the letter down and cleared his throat, sitting up straighter.

"I... have something important to say."

"Say it," Ruth replied, unimpressed.

Kael raised one finger, posture serious, face solemn.

"When will I get my fief—"

"Go and prepare for the Crown Games."

"...?"

Kael’s brain lagged.

"Sorry, what now?" he blinked. "I was talking about my fiefdom."

"We’ll discuss it after the Crown Games," Ruth said firmly.

"But what the hell do I have to do with the Crown Games?! It’s in the name—CROWN. Royals fight. Not me!"

"Who said it was limited to royals?" Ruth leaned forward slightly, folding his leg over the other. "Yes, it’s a war between heirs. But nobles are summoned as well. There will be trials—battles to determine the strongest warriors and leaders among the nobles."

He gave Kael a pointed look.

"You don’t want to miss this. The rewards are quite significant."

Kael’s expression twisted into one of grudging contemplation. He scratched his head.

This is bigger than I thought...

Ruth stood, the light from the window casting a long shadow behind him. His presence became heavier, his voice like rolling thunder.

"So stop wasting time and start training. You only get one shot—and sadly for me and good for you it begins right after your awakening. "

"What do you mean sadly?"Kael asked fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

"I meant what I said."

Don’t tarnish the pride of Veydrin, Kael... or else."

A pulse of cold pressure weighed down the room.

Kael swallowed hard and gave a weak smile.

"O-of course. I’ll give it my all..."

And if I survive, I better get that damn fiefdom.

.....

Kael didn’t know the full contents of the Crown Games, so he tried researching it—but after a while, he found it such a hassle that he left it all to Gare.

"God," he muttered, tossing a thick scroll aside, "what’s the point of having servants if I have to do everything myself?" He kicked his heels up on the desk with an annoyed groan. "What is this nonsense of doing everything on your own?"

Out on the training ground, the Blue Knights had gathered, forming a loose circle, their eyes wide with disbelief as they watched the sparring match unfold.

"Oh my god. Is this for real?" one of them gasped, his hand tightening around his helmet.

"He’s really going toe-to-toe with Vic without falling back—alongside the others?" another whispered, his mouth hanging open.

"Wait a moment... how long has it been since the Lord awakened?" someone asked, drawing a thoughtful silence across the group.

The others began calculating quickly, murmuring numbers under their breath.

"Going by the notion, he awakened around February or something, and now it’s almost August... It’s been almost 8 months."

"OHHHH!"

A wave of shock spread through the knights.

"People called him trash—but he’s a genius."

They began murmuring in agreement, some nodding, others exchanging impressed glances.

"The speed... the coordination... He doesn’t just have talent—he’s got guts."