So instead of retreating, I forced myself to straighten.
My legs trembled violently under the pressure.
Still—
I met his gaze head-on.
"You heard me," I said.
Honestly, I had no idea where this courage was coming from.
Adrenaline?
Suicidal impulses?
Maybe both.
"But tell me I'm wrong."
The Patriarch's expression darkened further.
"You keep talking about honor," I continued, forcing the words out carefully despite the pressure crushing my lungs, "about shame… dignity… noble blood…"
I laughed weakly.
"But despite all that, you never got rid of me."
Silence.
Dangerous silence.
"You beat me."
I raised a finger.
"You isolated me."
Another finger.
"You treated me like filth."
Third finger.
"But you never abandoned me."
The Patriarch's jaw tightened slightly.
Bingo.
I was right.
"If you truly cast me aside," I said quietly, "then society would ask why the great House Valtor failed to raise its own heir properly."
I wiped blood from my lip again.
"And that stain would belong to you."
The room became deathly still.
The maid looked moments away from passing out.
Meanwhile, the Patriarch…
Smiled.
Then suddenly—
Grab.
His hand seized my throat.
I slammed violently against the wall behind me.
"Ghk—!"
Pain exploded across my back.
My feet lifted slightly off the ground as the Patriarch held me there effortlessly with one hand.
Fenrir lunged forward instinctively—
—but the larger shepherd intercepted him instantly, forcing him backward with a vicious snarl.
The Patriarch ignored all of it.
His cold eyes remained locked onto mine.
"Do not mistake my tolerance for weakness," he said softly.
His grip tightened.
I could barely breathe.
"You speak as though you understand me."
Another squeeze.
Dark spots flickered across my vision.
"But a child like you knows nothing."
His face moved closer.
"For years, I endured your failures because I hoped hardship would temper you into something useful."
Useful.
"Instead," he continued coldly, "you became an attention-starved parasite desperately crying for acknowledgment."
"…Tch."
I clicked my tongue weakly.
The Patriarch's brows furrowed slightly.
Probably because most people weren't stupid enough to provoke someone strangling them.
I forced out a hoarse laugh.
"…And whose fault… was that?"
The Patriarch's eyes sharpened dangerously.
"If a child becomes rotten," I rasped, "doesn't the blame also fall on the parent who raised him?"
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The maid looked utterly horrified now.
Like she was witnessing a public execution in slow motion.
And honestly?
Maybe she was.
The Patriarch stared at me for several long seconds.
Then slowly—
His grip loosened.
I dropped harshly onto the floor, coughing violently as air rushed back into my lungs.
"Cough—! Hah…!"
Fenrir immediately rushed toward me protectively.
The Patriarch stepped back silently.
His expression had become unreadable.
Which somehow felt even more dangerous than before.
"You are not my son."
The words landed heavier than any blow, even I know that already but emotions of Damian was going hyper at those words but Still I was in control.
I had already know this would happened, but I just fasten the process of upcoming events that's all.
"You are a stain wearing his face. A weakling who disgraced this bloodline, who humiliated our house before nobles and commoners alike."
"From this very moment you'll be expelled from the family."
Expulsion from the family. Stripped of noble status.
It wasn't a trivial matter, so even the guards at door paused to watch the patriarch and me.
The maid's eyes trembled with anxiety.
"…That's simple enough."
Exactly what I wanted.
"Then do it. Expel me."
"What?!"
"Would you leave, Patriarch? I need time to pack my belongings."
The patriarch's face visibly flushed with anger.
"Fine… It'll be a good lesson for you to realize how many privileges you've enjoyed."
His trembling mustache, the growl through gritted teeth.
"Wander without a home, go hungry, sleep on cold floors, wear tattered clothes, and you'll learn what it means to crawl through the filth without the Valtor name to shield you!"
The Patriarch's roar shook the chamber. His shotgun barrel pressed against my sternum, so close that I could feel the cold metal biting through my shirt.
The guards shifted uneasily, as though even they couldn't tell whether the Patriarch meant to fire or not. Fenrir snarled low, hackles raised, his claws scraping against marble.
For a long, suffocating moment, the world shrank to the space between us. His fury burned into me, daring me to flinch, to beg, to take it back.
But I didn't.
I let the silence stretch, meeting his glare with unyielding eyes. Blood still dripped from my temple, crawling down my jaw and staining my collar, but my spine was straight, my head high.
If he wanted me broken, he'd have to do more than bark threats.
Finally, the Patriarch exhaled through clenched teeth. He stepped back, lowering the shotgun—but not in surrender.
"Very well," he growled. "If you crave ruin so desperately, then I will grant it. But remember this, Damian Valtor."
His voice turned low, guttural, each word ground out like steel dragged across stone.
"You are nothing without this family. Nothing."
He snapped his fingers.
"Get out of my sight,Take the maid with you! She's your responsibility since you brought her! You wretched fool!"
The maid? Damian brought her?
I'll think about that later, but before I leave this place I at least want to do some damage.
Of course I don't mean physical damage.
Even I know that I can't do that.
"Patriarch, before you officially disowned me I would like to challenge you for the Battle Of Throne."
I will challenge him to dule for the head of family seat.
That way I at will ruined his family name, image and his reputation.
In instant, the room was filled with killing intent.
And before I could do or say anything, he was before me.
THWAK—!
The instant the Patriarch's fist connected with my face, the world went white.
There was no time to react.
No time to think.
One moment I was standing—
The next, my body was airborne.
CRASH!
I smashed into the far wall hard enough to crack the stone behind me before collapsing lifelessly onto the floor.
Pain exploded through my entire body.
It felt less like getting punched and more like being hit by a speeding truck.
"Ghk—!"
Blood burst from my mouth violently.
My vision blurred beyond recognition.
For several horrifying seconds, I couldn't even tell which way was up.
The room spun endlessly.
My ears rang so loudly it drowned out everything else.
I vaguely heard the maid scream.
Fenrir barked furiously.
But their voices sounded distant.
Far away.
Like echoes underwater.
"…Pathetic."
The Patriarch's cold voice cut through the haze.
Heavy footsteps approached slowly.
Each step echoed across the ruined chamber with terrifying weight.
I tried to move.
Nothing happened.
My limbs refused to listen.
Mana.
That punch had been reinforced with mana.
Not enough to kill me—
—but more than enough to completely overpower Damian's weak body.
A shadow loomed over me.
The Patriarch looked down at me with utter disappointment.
"You challenge me for the Battle of Throne…"
His expression twisted slightly with contempt.
"…yet a single strike is enough to reduce you to this state?"
I coughed violently, blood splattering across the marble floor.
Damn it…
Everything hurt.
No wonder Damian never dared oppose this monster in the original story.
The difference in strength wasn't merely large.
It was absolute.
The Patriarch slowly crouched beside me.
"Listen carefully, Damian."
His voice was calm now.
Far calmer than before.
And somehow, that frightened me even more.
"You possess neither talent nor discipline."
His cold eyes stared directly into mine.
"You rely on arrogance to hide your weakness."
His hand suddenly grabbed my jaw roughly, forcing me to look at him properly.
"And now, after disgracing House Valtor before the entire empire…"
His grip tightened painfully.
"…Just get the hell out of my sight before I'll forget you are my son and killed you for real."
And with that Patriarch James Valtor was gone, followed by gaurds.
As for me? I blacked out.