Rise Of The Dual Bound Sovereign

CHP 4: Lick It Clean

Both of them turned toward the source of the voice.

A young man dressed in luxurious robes was walking toward them.

The moment Mirabelle saw him, a warm smile blossomed on her face. The newcomer was none other than Lucien.

Azrael's expression, however, immediately darkened. He had never had a good relationship with this half brother of his.

By the time Lucien reached them, a smug smile had already formed on his face.

He casually wrapped an arm around Mirabelle's waist and pulled her gently into his side, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

The gesture seemed deliberate, as though he wanted Azrael to see it.

Mirabelle didn't resist in the slightest. Instead, she leaned comfortably against him, resting her head lightly on his shoulder.

"He wanted me to speak to you about his mother's condition," she said casually. "Apparently, she doesn't have much time left without proper treatment."

"Oh… I see." Lucien raised an eyebrow before glancing at Azrael.

He was naturally aware of everything that had transpired within the Valcroy estate during his absence, including Azrael's desperate attempts over the past two years to obtain treatment for his mother.

Turning toward Azrael, the smug smile on his face widened. "You want me to speak to Father on your behalf?"

Azrael simply stared at him in silence.

"What?" Lucien let out a chuckle. "Have you suddenly forgotten how to speak?"

Seeing that Azrael still wasn't responding, the amusement in his eyes only grew.

"Well, if you're not going to say anything, then I don't see any reason for this conversation to continue."

With that, he reached for Mirabelle's hand and turned to leave.

"Please..."

Just as Lucien and Mirabelle had taken a few steps away, Azrael's voice suddenly rang out from behind them.

Lucien stopped mid-step and slowly turned around. A puzzled expression appeared on his face, though the amusement hidden in his eyes betrayed him.

“Hm? Did you say something?” he asked.

Azrael lowered his head slightly, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“Please... help my mother.”

“Oh?” Lucien cupped a hand behind his ear. "You're going to have to speak a little louder. I can barely hear what you're saying."

The mocking smile tugging at the corner of his lips made it clear that he was merely toying with him.

Azrael's body trembled slightly.

“Please help my mother!” he shouted.

The sudden outburst immediately drew the attention of the surrounding guests and servants. One after another, heads turned in his direction.

Lucien's smile widened. There was something almost intoxicating about seeing the once-proud Azrael reduced to this state.

“Please...” Azrael continued, his voice trembling. “She's all I have left. I can't lose her.” He took a step forward. “I'll do anything. Anything you ask. Just please... get her treatment.”

"You'll do anything, you say?" Lucien asked, finally releasing Mirabelle's hand.

By now, more and more people had begun gathering nearby, drawn by the commotion. Curious whispers spread through the crowd as they watched the scene unfold.

Lucien seemed completely unbothered by the growing audience. In fact, he appeared to enjoy it.

“Well...” he said thoughtfully. His gaze slowly dropped to his shoes. “There is one thing you can do for me.”

“On my way here, I accidentally stepped into a patch of mud.” He lifted one foot slightly, revealing a dark stain on the side of his shoe. “It's been bothering me ever since.”

He looked back at Azrael.

“If you can get rid of that stain for me, I'll consider speaking to Father on your behalf.”

Azrael's brows furrowed. “You want me to clean your shoes?” he asked, his gaze shifting from the stain to Lucien's face.

Lucien let out a soft chuckle. “No...” he said slowly. “I want you to lick it clean.”

The surrounding crowd immediately erupted into murmurs.

“What? Did I hear that correctly?”

“He wants Azrael to lick his shoe clean?”

“Do you think he'll actually do it?”

“Why wouldn't he? Someone like him should be grateful for the opportunity to serve Young Master Lucien.”

“Exactly. A cripple with no elemental affinity should know his place.”

Azrael remained silent. His jaw tightened as he stared at Lucien, barely managing to suppress the rage surging inside him.

“What?” Lucien asked mockingly. “Don't tell me you can't do something so simple.”

A faint smirk appeared on his face.

“Just a moment ago, weren't you talking about how your mother was all you had left? About how you couldn't bear to lose her?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Or were those just empty words?”

Lucien took a step forward.

“Tell me, Azrael... is your dignity really worth more than your mother's life?”

The surrounding crowd fell silent. Everyone knew exactly what Lucien was doing. He was forcing Azrael to choose.

His dignity…

Or his dying mother.

At that moment, blood was already trickling from Azrael's clenched fist. His nails had dug so deeply into his palm that they had pierced the skin.

He wasn't a fool. He knew exactly what Lucien was doing. He was clearly enjoying his desperation, using his mother's condition to toy with him and humiliate him.

Yet none of that mattered. For his mother, Azrael was willing to endure any humiliation.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly unclenched his fist and stepped toward Lucien.

Seeing him actually approach, Lucien's smile widened.

He casually took a few steps backward. "If you really want my help," he said with a chuckle, "then crawl over here. That way I'll know just how determined you are."

A brief silence followed.

Then, to the surprise of both Lucien and Mirabelle, Azrael slowly lowered himself to his knees. Without a word, he placed his hands on the ground and began crawling toward Lucien.

Lucien's grin stretched from ear to ear, his eyes filled with undisguised amusement. Even Mirabelle's expression twisted in disgust as she watched him degrade himself so completely.

When Azrael finally reached him, Lucien casually extended one foot forward.

Azrael lowered his head and slowly extended his tongue toward the mud-stained shoe. The foul taste of dirt filled his mouth the moment he made contact, making his stomach churn.

Yet he didn't stop.

Slowly, he licked away the mud clinging to Lucien's shoe amidst the laughter and ridicule surrounding him.

"What a pathetic sight."

"Tch… he's no different from a dog."

Mocking laughter rang out from the crowd, but Azrael remained on his knees and continued licking the mud from the shoe as though he hadn't heard a thing.

If licking the dirt off Lucien’s shoe was what it took to save his mother, then Azrael would do it without hesitation. To him his mother's life was more important than his dignity.