Blades of The Fallen Realm

CHPT 2

Slowly, painfully, Leo began to bend his knees toward the cold stone floor. Leo’s knees slammed hard onto the cold stone floor, the sharp pain shooting all the way up his spine. Hot tears spilled over his cheeks as he stared at the red pool of wine right in front of his face.

Loud, mocking laughter echoed across the massive banquet hall, ringing in his ears like a cruel nightmare. Lord Julian Vance sneered loudly while holding his heavy belly with both hands. The arrogant lord looked down at the floor as if he was watching a dirty dog beg for scraps.

Clara Sterling stood right above him with her arms crossed tightly over her fine silk dress. Her dark eyes were filled with ice-cold disgust as she looked down at her helpless husband. She did not stop Julian, nor did she say a single word to defend Leo's broken honor.

"Go on!" Julian taunted, shaking the heavy silver pouch in the air with a loud clinking sound. "Lick it clean! Drink every last drop off my boots if you want this money for your blind old father!"

Leo swallowed the thick lump of shame in his throat, his breath hitching painfully. He clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug deep into his bloody palms. He could not throw away his final drop of human dignity, even for Julian’s dirty silver.

"No," Leo whispered, his voice trembling with a quiet, burning rage that filled his chest. "What did you say?" Julian’s loud laugh vanished instantly, replaced by an angry, ugly scowl.

"I said no!" Leo shouted, pushing himself off the cold stone floor and standing up tall. "I will not lick your boots!"

"How dare a worthless worm like you speak back to me!" Julian roared, his face turning bright red. Julian swung his heavy arm, slapping Leo across the face with immense, blinding force. The loud smack echoed through the quiet hall, sending Leo stumbling back three whole paces.

Blood trickled down the corner of Leo’s lip, but he kept his dark eyes locked onto Julian. Driven by pure, fiery rage, Leo raised his arm, his fist balling tightly as he swung back to slap Julian across his arrogant face. His hand stopped just an inch away from Julian's cheek, trembling in the air as his dark eyes pierced right into the noble's soul.

Julian flinched, gasping in sudden terror as a cold sweat broke out across his forehead. Leo slowly lowered his hand without saying a single word, leaving Julian trembling in complete silence.

"Guards!" Clara commanded coldly, her sharp voice cutting through the quiet room like a steel blade. "Throw this beggar out of my sight right now! He has humiliated my family enough for today!"

Four heavy guards in iron armor rushed forward, grabbing Leo by his wet arms. They hauled him down the grand marble staircase and slammed the massive double doors shut behind him. They tossed his thin body directly out into the dark, pouring rain like trash.

Leo crashed hard into the cold mud outside the gates, the wet dirt covering his torn clothes. He picked himself up off the muddy ground, wiping the red blood from his mouth. He had no time to weep because his blind father was dying in that freezing shed.

Leo ran through the dark, cold streets as fast as his trembling legs could carry him. His heart hammered wildly against his ribs, and his throat burned from the freezing night air. The icy wind cut through his thin, ragged shirt like tiny knives, but he refused to slow down.

Every breath he took felt like swallowing broken glass, but he kept moving his heavy feet. The image of his blind father, Old Thomas, lying blue on a thin straw mat pushed him forward. "Father, please hold on," Leo whispered to the dark wind as he ran through the mud.

He turned the corner into the narrow back alley of the grand Sterling family estate. He sprinted toward the small, rotting wooden shed built at the edge of the dark courtyard. When he reached the wet yard, he froze instantly in his tracks as his jaw dropped.

Two bright oil lanterns hung from the high wooden posts, casting a harsh yellow glare over everything. Standing right outside the dark shed was Clara’s mother, Lady Margaret Sterling, wearing a heavy fur coat. Beside her stood Master Reed, the highest-ranking physician in the entire district, holding a medicine box.

"Mother!" Leo panted, stumbling into the bright lantern light as he gasped desperately for air. "You... you brought a physician?"

Lady Margaret turned her head slowly, holding a scented silk handkerchief over her sharp nose. "Do not call me mother, you dirty stray," Lady Margaret snapped, her voice dripping with poison. "You are not worthy to speak my name in front of these respected guests."

"Is Master Reed here to treat my father?" Leo begged, his eyes lighting up with hope. "Please, his frost-fever is terrible! His blood is freezing inside his body right now!"

"Master Reed is here because I ordered him to be here," Lady Margaret sneered cruelly. "But he will not step one single foot inside that shed until you do something for me."

"Anything!" Leo cried out without hesitating for even a single second in his dark panic. "I will do anything you ask! Just let him save my blind father!"

Lady Margaret motioned to her personal servant, who immediately stepped forward holding a heavy roll of paper. The servant also held a wooden feather pen and a small glass bottle of thick black ink.

"This is a Servant Contract," Lady Margaret said, her cold eyes fixed on Leo’s pale face. "You have been a useless parasite living off my family's wealth for two full years. This contract legally strips you of every remaining right as Clara’s lawful husband."

"What?" Leo gasped, his breath catching in his throat as his whole body trembled with shock. "You will no longer be considered a member of this noble family," Lady Margaret explained clearly. "You will be a permanent, legal live-in servant with no rights, no property, and no voice."

"If you sign this paper," she added, pointing down at the dark writing on the parchment, "Master Reed will enter that shed and give your father the basic medical herbs right now. If you refuse, he leaves, and your blind old burden of a father will die before sunrise."

Without waiting for his answer, Lady Margaret pulled out her phone, dialed Clara, and commanded her to come down to the estate courtyard with the herb immediately.

Just then, the heavy wooden doors of the main manor opened with a loud creak. Clara walked out into the wet courtyard, holding a purple silk umbrella above her head. She walked over to her mother, her beautiful face completely cold as she looked at Leo.

"Clara..." Leo choked out, looking up at his wife with tear-filled, desperate eyes. "You are going to let your mother force me to sign this humiliating paper?"

Clara did not move a single muscle to stop her mother's cruel actions tonight. She stood by in absolute silence, watching Leo's total desperation with dark, lifeless eyes.

"Sign it, Leo," Clara said plainly, her sharp voice showing zero emotional warmth or pity. "It is the only useful thing you will ever do for my family's noble name."

"I am your husband!" Leo shouted, his broken heart shattering into a thousand sharp pieces. "How can you stand there and watch your mother blackmail me with my father's life?!"

"You were never a real husband to me!" Clara sneered, her eyes filling with burning hatred. "Look at you! You are standing in the mud begging for scraps like a pathetic dog!"

"Lord Julian Vance is a real lord!" Clara added, comparing him directly to her suitor. "He has military achievements, grand army troops, and noble blood running through his veins! You are just a weak, useless worm who drags my proud name into the dirt!"

"Listen to your wife," Lady Margaret chimed in with a sharp, cruel laugh. "You should be begging us on your hands and knees for giving you this chance! Sign the paper right now, or watch your old father draw his very last breath in that cold shed!"

From inside the dark, quiet shed, a weak, painful cough broke through the night air. "Leo..." Old Thomas’s faint voice called out from the dark, trembling with deep physical agony. "Leo... my chest... it hurts so much... I cannot breathe..."

Leo’s heart stopped completely as a cold sweat broke out across his pale forehead. He turned his head toward the shed door, hearing his father’s ragged breath grow weaker. His father was dying in the dark, and there was no time left to argue.

"Fine!" Leo wept out, tears streaming down his bloody face as he reached out his hand. "Give me the pen! I will sign your degrading contract right now!"

Lady Margaret smiled victoriously, nodding her head toward her personal servant with great pride. The servant handed Leo the wooden pen dipped in ink and held the parchment flat. Clara watched him in silence, her arms crossed tight as she watched her husband surrender.

Leo took the pen, his fingers shaking wildly as he pressed the sharp tip against the paper. He looked down at the blank signature line with bitter rage filling his chest. As he moved his hand, an ancient, deep instinct took complete control over his fingers.

Instead of writing a simple, messy name, Leo’s hand moved with incredible, razor-sharp speed. He executed an ancient, secret calligraphy flourish—a unique, sovereign stroke that curved like a roaring dragon before ending in a sharp, regal mark. It was an ancient calligraphy style reserved exclusively for the Supreme Imperial Dynasty!

Leo signed his name in a single heartbeat, tossing the wooden pen into the wet mud. "I signed it!" Leo yelled, his deep voice shaking the cold night air. "Now let the physician inside know that she'd treat my father like you promised!"

Lady Margaret snickered softly, grabbing the signed contract off the wooden tray with satisfaction. "See? I told you he would sign it like a good, obedient little dog."

Beside Lady Margaret stood an elderly scholar wearing the gray robes of the Imperial Academy. He had walked out with Clara earlier to view the commotion taking place in the courtyard. The scholar casually glanced down at the parchment in Lady Margaret’s hands, expecting an ugly scribble.

The moment the old scholar’s eyes landed on the fresh signature, his body froze completely. His eyes opened as wide as saucers, and his jaw dropped in absolute terror. The color drained from his face until he looked as pale as a dead corpse.

"This... this mark..." the scholar gasped, his voice trembling violently as he pointed a finger. "What is wrong with you, old man?" Lady Margaret asked, frowning at his reaction. "It is just a useless servant's name."

"No... no, it cannot be!" the old scholar muttered in sheer, total shock.