‘But it will take some time.’
The priest held a position of great respect within the Whitemore family, making it difficult for Val to openly accuse him. Mere words would likely be dismissed as desperate ramblings, resulting in punishment for Val himself. What he truly needed was tangible evidence. Without concrete proof, he couldn’t confront the priest or take any action against him.
But what if the priest had been thorough with his scheme and no proof existed? Val possessed a talent for fabricating “proof” when necessary. The priest’s days were undoubtedly limited, for Val was determined to expose his deceitful actions and take his life in front of the masses!
‘Foolish priest! Your treachery shall not go unpunished!’
He seemed to have already decided how the priest would die.
It would be a public execution!
Rat-a-tat!
A sudden, forceful knock on the door sounded, jolting Val out of his murderous thoughts.
“Who’s there?” Val questioned, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity lacing his voice.
“It is I, young master,” came the familiar voice from the other side.
Without hesitation, Val swung open the door, revealing the commanding figure of Reginald Ashworth, the esteemed head butler of the Whitemore family.
Reginald had sharp features, which were accentuated by high cheekbones and a strong jawline.
By just standing straight, he emitted an air of authority.
His slicked-back black hair and piercing gray eyes added to his formidable presence, and he epitomized the essence of a true gentleman as he was clad in a meticulously tailored black suit, crisp white shirt, and a sleek black tie, he epitomized the essence of a true gentleman.
Lastly, prominently displayed on his lapel was the distinguished emblem of the Whitemore family–a silver representation of a horned deer.
After the door opened, Reginald’s gaze involuntarily swept across the disheveled state of Val’s room, and a shocked expression made its way onto his face.
“What has happened here, young master? Why is your room in such disarray?” he inquired.
Val, shrugging as if it was no big deal, replied, “It is courtesy to a couple of unwelcome guests.”
“Unwelcome guests? What did you do about them?” queried Reginald.
“Spiked one to death with the remnants of a broken chair. The other was so terrified to see its partner in crime die that it fled in a hurry.” Val replied, shrugging as if it was no big deal.
From Val’s nonchalant description of “spiking one,” Reginald instantly realized they were dealing with devils!
His eyes widened to the size of saucers!
“To take down a devil without any special powers… that’s something else, young sir. You’re stronger and quicker than most people your age. Plenty of gifted folks would give anything for your physique. It’s a real pity you’re not a bloodline user. Just think of the possibilities…”
“Let’s cut the chit-chat. Why are you here at this ungodly hour?” Val interrupted.
“The lord wishes to see you,” the butler replied, his voice tinged with solemnity.
There was only one person whom Reginald referred to as “the lord.” That person was the head of the Whitemore family and Val’s father.
Val knew better than to keep his father waiting, so he responded promptly, “Very well. Lead the way.”
Val followed closely behind the butler as he led him to his father’s study. The butler opened the door and motioned for Val to enter.
“Please, go ahead,” the butler kindly said.
“Thank you,” Val replied with a grateful smile, stepping into the study.
The study was filled with bookshelves stretching from the floor all the way to the ceiling, displaying a colorful assortment of books in various shapes and sizes. And soft sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm and inviting glow on the beautifully polished mahogany desk positioned at the center of the room.
Seated behind the desk was Val’s father, a man whose appearance was far from being classified as attractive.
His teeth were crooked and yellowed, peeping out beneath a neatly trimmed mustache, and eyeglasses sat lopsided on his nose, seemingly designed for just one eye.
Except for the color of their hair and eyes, Val bore no resemblance to his father. That’s why it was obvious that Val’s impressive looks were a gift from his mother.
“Sit down,” invited Joshua, motioning towards the chair across from his desk.
Val obliged, settling into the offered seat.
“Now, do you have any inkling why I urgently summoned you?” inquired Joshua.
“To be frank, I’m clueless.” Val shook his head, a slight furrow etching into his brows.
Joshua leaned forward, his eyes unblinking and intense. He then posed a question that jostled Val’s deepest memories.
“Then, do you recall why I changed your name to Val when you were only three years old?”
Val’s mind raced back to his early childhood, recalling how his mother had initially named him “Monster.” It was only after he had made an effort to stand out from the crowd, walking and speaking fluently at an incredibly young age and surpassing his peers in every aspect, that his name was changed to Val by his father.
“You envisioned becoming a kingmaker,” Val replied, “and saw the makings of a king in me. So you named me after King Valerius, the founder and the first king of the Kingdom.”
“But now that you haven’t turned out to be extraordinary like I have hoped, I don’t see how that destiny can be fulfilled,” Joshua stated matter-of-factly, disappointment coloring his voice. “Therefore, I will reclaim your original name and revoke the privileges that you’ve been enjoying that came with being the second young master of the Whitemore family.”
He paused momentarily before continuing with an unwavering gaze, “From now on, you are forbidden to use the name Val. Instead, you will return to the name your mother originally gave you. Is that clear?”
“Since you want it back, who am I to say no?” Val, now referred to as Monster once again, nodded in acknowledgment.
Though it might seem that Val had a lot to gain by being proactive and laying his cards on the table, that was actually not the case.
Joshua was not only an inadequate father but also a suspicious and morally deranged individual with the blood of many innocent people on his hands. He hadn’t attained his position as the ruler of the Ironspire stronghold through peaceful means; rather, he had ruthlessly eliminated countless individuals to establish the dominance of the Whitemore family.
Someone like him wouldn’t hesitate to steal his son’s good fortune. 𝑶𝓋𝔩xt.𝑐𝒪𝑚
That’s why, to protect himself, Val chose to keep quiet and withhold any information about his recent experiences.
He didn’t intend to hide his power for too long though.
He had a way of fooling Joshua into believing that he had awakened the Whitemore Bloodline, but he needed to increase his physical strength in order to make that plan come to fruition.
As for how to do that, he had already thought of a plan!
He just needed to act on it.
But as fate would have it, he was disturbed!