Their Little Brother Is the Supreme King

Chapter 007

In the opulent banquet hall of the Herman family estate, the air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and the iron tang of fear. Julian Herman stared at the messenger with wide, incredulous eyes, his glass of vintage Bordeaux frozen halfway to his lips.

"What did you say? Ethan Smith? Are you absolutely certain?" Julian’s voice cracked, losing its previous smooth, predatory edge. Only moments ago, he had been gloating about using the missing Smith brother as a psychological leash to control the seven sisters. To hear that the very man he intended to use as a pawn was currently dismantling his front gate was a humiliating blow to his ego. His face turned a sickly, mottled purple as his grand strategy crumbled before it even began.

"Whether it is truly him, I cannot say, Master Julian," the servant stammered, his head bowed so low he was nearly doubled over. "But he stands in the courtyard even now, shouting that name for all to hear."

Jason Herman, the patriarch and a man whose influence stretched into every dark corner of Ambershire, set his jaw. "How many? How large is the force he brought to lay siege to my home?"

"It... it’s just two of them, sir," the servant whispered. "One man and one woman."

Jason Herman’s eyes flared with a mix of fury and disbelief. He looked around at his opulent surroundings, then back at the trembling man. "Two people? Two people have turned my perimeter into a graveyard, and you come crawling in here like a whipped dog? You are all pathetic excuses for security!"

"Father, wait," Julian Herman interjected, a cold, calculating light returning to his eyes. "Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. We’ve been searching for a way to lure him out, and now the fool delivers himself to our doorstep. If we take him alive, the Smith sisters will have no choice but to kneel. We can turn this disaster into a permanent victory."

Jason Herman considered this, his anger cooling into a sharp, predatory focus. "You’re right. This is an opportunity. Call every elite unit we have. I want them cornered, broken, and shackled."

The Hermans led a contingent of fifty elite Guards of the Earth into the main reception hall. The scene that met them was one of absolute carnage. The polished marble floors, once pristine, were slick with crimson. Severed limbs and discarded weapons lay scattered like debris after a storm. The Herman family’s private security—men recruited from the most brutal mercenary circles and the Lion King Club—were huddled in corners, their spirits shattered.

"Cease this madness at once!" Jason Herman bellowed, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings.

The fighting stopped. The Guards of the Earth backed away, creating a wide circle of empty space. Catherine Jones lowered her sub-and-mother blades, though she remained as coiled and dangerous as a viper. Ethan Smith stepped forward, walking through the blood and wreckage with a calm that was far more terrifying than any scream.

Jason Herman looked Ethan up and down, his lip curling in a sneer. He had expected a titan, a man radiating the power of the Supreme King. Instead, he saw a young man dressed in clothes that looked like they had been plucked from a bargain bin at a street market.

"So, you’re the famous Ethan Smith?" Jason asked, his voice dripping with condescension. "I expected... more. You’re just a street rat hiding behind a woman’s skirts."

Ethan met the patriarch’s gaze, his eyes two pools of icy, unyielding darkness. "I am Ethan Smith. And I am here to collect a debt."

Jason laughed, a dry, rasping sound. "You talk about debts? You break into my home, butcher my staff, and you think you’re in a position to demand anything? We have fifty men here, boy. You have a girl with a knife. Do the math."

"The math is simple," Ethan replied, his voice low and resonant. "The Herman family has engaged in human trafficking, attempted assassination of a high-ranking official, and the poisoning of my sister, Bree Smith. Here is my offer: every member of the Herman family will travel to the Ambershire People's Hospital. You will kneel in the dirt outside the entrance and beg for my sister’s forgiveness. You will remain there, without food or water, until she wakes up. Only then will I decide if your family is allowed to continue existing."

For a moment, there was a stunned silence. Then, the hall erupted in mocking laughter. The idea of the mighty Herman family—a pillar of the Veridian elite—kneeling in the mud for a policewoman was the ultimate absurdity.

"You’re delusional," Julian Herman sneered. "My sister, Jean Herman, is a darling of the high society. My father holds the keys to this city’s treasury. You want an apology? You’ll get a tombstone. Men! Take them!"

The fifty Guards of the Earth surged forward. These weren't the common thugs from the gate; they were trained killers, many of them masters of various martial disciplines. But against Catherine Jones, they might as well have been children. She moved like a flicker of moonlight, her blades singing through the air. Every strike was calculated, every movement a masterclass in lethality.

"Argh! My arm!"

"He's too fast! I can't see—"

The screams were rhythmic, a gruesome percussion to the dance of steel. Despite their numbers, not a single guard could even brush against Ethan’s jacket. He stood in the center of the storm, as immovable as a mountain.

Jason Herman felt a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. He realized that if this continued, his entire power base would be liquidated in minutes. "Enough! Master Scott, please! Put an end to this arrogance!"

From the shadows behind the patriarch stepped an elderly man. His hair was as white as frost, and he wore a traditional silk robe that flowed around him like water. He moved with a grace that suggested he didn't walk so much as glide. This was Master Scott Hughes, a renowned martial artist who had served as the Hermans' ultimate deterrent for decades.

"You've had your fun, children," Master Scott said, his voice calm and patronizing. "But youth is no excuse for such blatant disrespect. To the young lady: you have talent, but you lack the refinement of true mastery. To the boy: you are a fool. If you prostrate yourself now, break your own arm as penance, and sign over your life to the service of the Hermans, I may persuade the Master to let you live as a stable hand."

Ethan looked at the old man and sighed. "Another one who thinks a few decades of practice makes him a god. You’ve spent too much time being worshipped by cowards, old man. Your 'mastery' is a facade."

"Impudence!" Master Scott’s eyes flashed with a sudden, sharp light. He was a man who had reached the Supreme Master level in the eyes of the locals, and he wasn't used to being mocked by a "street rat."

"Master, please, just break him," Julian Herman urged, his voice tight with anxiety.

Master Scott began to walk toward Ethan. Catherine stepped in front of her King, her blades crossed, her eyes fixed on the old man's hands.

"You have a unique skeletal structure, girl," Master Scott noted, a predatory glint in his eyes. "If you renounce this boy and become my disciple—and perhaps my personal attendant—I will teach you secrets that the Hall of Supreme could only dream of."

Catherine’s expression didn't change, but a glimmer of genuine disgust touched her eyes. "You aren't even fit to be a footman in the Hall of Supreme. You want to teach me? You can't even see the gap between us."

That was the final straw. Master Scott’s facade of calm shattered. "Very well. If you choose to die with him, so be it!"

He didn't draw a weapon. He didn't need one. He lunged forward, his hand shaped into a claw aimed directly at Catherine’s throat, intending to crush her windpipe in a single strike. It was a move perfected over fifty years of combat.

Catherine didn't flinch. She swung her mother-blade in a short, brutal arc. There was a sound like a wet branch snapping.

"AGH! MY HAND!"

Master Scott recoiled, clutching his wrist. Or rather, the stump where his hand had been. His severed hand lay on the marble floor, the fingers still twitching in a grotesque parody of life. The "great master" of the Herman family was now just a screaming old man, his face pale with shock and the sudden, agonizing realization of his own insignificance.

"What?" Julian Herman gasped, his knees finally giving out. "Master Scott... defeated in one move?"

Ethan stepped over the severed hand and looked directly at Jason Herman. "I believe my offer is still on the table. But the price for your hesitation just went up. Now, you’ll be kneeling for my sisters and the five officers you murdered at Moonlit Mountain."