The torture chamber contained all sorts of terrifying instruments, but the Grand Duke needed none of them. He himself was violence and fear incarnate.
Hubert, suspended against the wall, became the Grand Duke’s outlet for his fury. It was brutal enough to make even onlookers grimace.
Despite the Grand Duke’s relentless questioning, Hubert did not open his mouth. No, he didn’t even let out a groan. After the Grand Duke left, the knight commander, who had been watching the ordeal, approached.
“Hey, Hubert. Just beg for mercy. I don’t know how you ended up in His Grace’s bad graces, but I know better than anyone that you’re innocent. If you know anything, just say it.”
The commander’s tone was one of persuasion, his concern for his subordinate evident. But Hubert remained silent. With a sigh, the knight commander cast a regretful glance at him before exiting the chamber.
Lexion, his muscular body exposed through his tattered shirt, hung limply in his restraints. He let out a dry chuckle.
The torture chamber was hidden deep within the underground prison, its corridors winding like a maze. In the silence, his faint laughter echoed.
He was battered, his entire body covered in blood, but at last, he had found a lead. The Grand Duke had recklessly released an excessive amount of mana, allowing Lexion to track its flow.
‘It extends outside.’
Wasn’t the source of power supposed to be stored inside the Grand Duke’s castle? Now that he had found the thread of mana connecting to it, all he had to do was escape and retrieve it.
He strained his limbs, trying to move. Clang. The chains binding him nullified magic, rendering him powerless.
Tsk. Cunning bastard. Even in his blind rage, the Grand Duke must have sensed Lexion using magic in hiding.
It seemed he had also seen through his false disguise, but Callion’s only concern was Lariate and the man who was with her. Everything else had merely been an outlet for his fury.
Lexion twisted his wrist, attempting to slip free, but the chains held firm. With a sigh, he slumped back.
‘Damn. This is exhausting.’
Cold sweat dripped down his sharp jawline, likely from the excessive blood loss.
Even as the Grand Duke’s relentless attacks rained down on him, he had forced himself to stay conscious, reading the flow of mana. He had pushed himself beyond his limits. And yet, he felt satisfied—because he had finally found what he had been searching for.
For the sake of saving his brother, he had never hesitated to sacrifice his own body. His vision swam, his entire body growing heavy, even his eyelids.
He had kept his eyes open until his blood vessels nearly burst, but now, darkness consumed him.
‘Lexi.’
A soft voice called to him, making his eyelids twitch.
‘Lexi, look over here. Lexi.’
His barely opened eyes blurred. In his hazy vision, he saw a child. A child with silver hair, just like his own. He let out a small, wistful laugh. A familiar sight.
“Don’t call me that girly nickname, Brother.”
‘Haha. Lexi, you don’t like the nickname I gave you?’
“No. But… I tolerate it because it’s you. You know how I am.”
‘Of course. You’re my little brother, after all.’
Though his brother appeared as a child, his smile was warm and all-embracing.
“Brother, did you see Callion’s face? He looked terrified the entire time he was beating me, worrying about what might have happened to his woman. It was… exhilarating.”
‘…Lexi.’
“I wish… I wish he would suffer endlessly, just like you did.”
‘…’
“Don’t look at me like that.”
The young version of his brother gazed at him with sorrowful eyes. Inside him, his brother remained forever a child. He didn’t want to see this illusion any longer, so he closed his eyes once more.
The Grand Duke’s torture continued into the second day. It was relentless, as if meant to push him to the brink of death, yet Lexion never spoke a word.
As he endured the monotonous cycle of torment, his mind searched for an escape.
At some point, he had lost consciousness again. And then—someone was calling his name.
A woman appeared in his hazy vision.
Even without makeup, she was stunning. He stared at her, dazed.
‘Who was this beautiful woman?’
“Lexion, are you awake?”
“….”
Sharp, upturned eyes and striking green irises. A captivating beauty. His wife now—Milena Silbert.
‘Ah. My bride.’
“My wife…”
His voice, rough and broken, escaped his lips, and she let out a relieved sigh.
“Haa, yes. Your wife. Milena.”
Clang. He had no feeling in his arms or legs. At first, he thought he was hallucinating, but then a familiar voice grounded him in reality.
“Oh, my lord, please don’t die.”
His legs were freed.
“We’ve been through so much because of you!”
His arms followed.
As Gérard used a stolen key to unshackle him, Lexion staggered forward, and Milena caught him in her arms.
The strong scent of blood hit her, making her grimace. The torture chamber reeked, the sight more gruesome than she had imagined. Lexion’s condition was worse than she had feared.
“You talked as if you’d be able to escape on your own. What’s this mess?”
“….”
With his eyes closed, he buried his face against her shoulder. As soon as the chains fell away, his suppressed mana surged through his body. Normally, the sudden rush would have been painful, but with her touch, his body quickly stabilized.
“You’re a wreck, newlywed. Were you seriously trying to die?”
Newlywed. He chuckled at the word. Though theirs was a marriage in name only, the reality of it finally settled in. It wasn’t such a bad feeling—to have someone worrying about him.
“I wasn’t… planning to die. Just… trying to escape.”
His hoarse voice was hardly convincing. She looked at the tattered remnants of his clothes, her gaze full of pain. Knowing exactly where she was looking, he murmured petulantly.
“Wife… I’m hurting.”
“…Lexion.”
He leaned on her more heavily, as if throwing a tantrum. His solid frame was a head taller than hers, too heavy for her to support alone. Just as she was about to buckle, Gérard hurried to take over.
“This won’t do. Gérard.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Carry him.”
“…What?”
“…?”
Gérard and Lexion stared at her in disbelief.
“No time to argue. Hurry up. Your lord is dying.”
“Uh, well, he looks terrible, but he’s not exactly dying—”
Gérard mumbled complaints about how his back was reserved for a beautiful woman, not his lord, but one glance at Milena’s sharp eyes made him comply.
“….”
“….”
Neither Lexion, slung over Gérard’s back, nor Gérard himself looked pleased.
Milena, holding a luminous stone, strode ahead without looking back. The underground prison was designed to be a labyrinth, but she navigated it without hesitation.
Behind her, Gérard grumbled.
“This is all your fault, my lord. My back was meant for a lovely lady!”
“You don’t even have a girlfriend.”
“Hmph! My body is reserved for my future wife! You’ve sullied my pure back!”
Lexion, exhausted, scowled at Gérard’s nonsense.
“Shut up. Why are you even here?”
“Why else? Because your wife was worried about you.”
“…What?”
Lexion frowned. Gérard wasn’t the type to disobey orders.
“Looking at your condition, it’s a good thing we came. You’d be dead by now.”
“I’m not dead.”
Gérard pursed his lips, feeling pitiful for following such a reckless lord.
“Hah, I’m siding with Milena now.”
“Since when?”
“Since you entrusted her to me! Without her, I wouldn’t have dared to break in.”
“How did you even get in?”
“She planned everything. We got in thanks to her.”
