Duke Leo, You Don't Have to Do This

“Leo, what on earth is going on with what you wrote in your letter?” Duke Windsor was the first to speak, his voice carrying a soft, effeminate quality. “What do you mean by a 'crisis of national destruction'?”

Duke Natt pulled the silk handkerchief from his forehead. “I rushed over the moment I received your letter. Leo, we've known each other for decades, and you've never been one to play such jokes.”

Duke Mindrow was relatively composed, yet he couldn't hide the impatience in his voice. “Leo, the three of us dukes, along with His Majesty—most of the people who hold sway over the entire Thorn Empire are sitting right here. If you claim there's a crisis of national destruction, you have to give us an explanation. Is there trouble at the border? Or is one of the high nobles planning a rebellion?”

Emperor Julian sat quietly opposite the host's seat, the cuffs of his dark gold robe resting on the edge of the table.

He didn't speak. His gaze slowly swept across the faces of the three dukes before finally settling on Duke Leo.

The two youths standing behind him exchanged a look.

Duke Leo still said nothing.

Only after everyone had finished speaking did he slowly raise his right hand and clap three times.

The applause wasn't loud, yet it was exceptionally clear in the spacious drawing room.

A side door slid open silently.

Colin, who had finished tidying himself up, walked in through the side door.

He had changed into a clean, dark blue outfit. The bruises on his face had not fully faded; his left eye was still black and blue, and a dark red scab had formed at the corner of his mouth.

With his back held straight, he walked over to the long table, stood still, and bowed to Julian and the three dukes.

“Your Majesty, my lords.”

Duke Windsor's brow furrowed.

He tilted his head to glance at Duke Leo before his gaze returned to Colin's face.

Duke Natt's silk handkerchief slipped and fell onto the table. He opened his mouth but didn't reach down to pick it up.

Duke Mindrow slowly withdrew his hand from the back of his chair.

Colin stood up straight.

“A month ago, I was attacked. When I woke up, I was imprisoned in a cave. During this past month, another 'Colin' has been living in the ducal estate, taking my place.”

As soon as those words were spoken, the drawing room fell into a brief silence.

It wasn't a peaceful silence, but rather the sound of everyone holding their breath at once.

Julian and the three dukes hadn't maintained their positions for so many years by being fools.

Even if they were greedy, hot-tempered, lustful, and possessed all sorts of other flaws, they were not stupid.

They naturally caught the underlying message in Colin's words.

Yet it was precisely this realization that brought a trace of unease to their hearts.

Julian's fingers froze over his gemstone rings, Duke Natt's handkerchief slipped from his fingers, and Duke Mindrow's hand silently tightened against the back of his chair.

Looking at the unfaded bruises on Colin's face, and seeing the youth standing straight yet with knees that still trembled slightly, the exact same thought crossed all of their minds at once.

If what Colin said was true, what about the "sons" standing behind them?

At that moment, the other five impostors quietly exchanged glances.

Their gazes crossed in a split second and vanished just as quickly.

“Colin,” Duke Windsor said in a hushed tone. “This is a matter of grave importance. Do you have any proof?”

Just as Colin was about to speak, the side door slid open silently.

Gal walked out from behind the door. His dark green robe dragged along the black stone slabs, several tentacles tucked tightly against the edges of his robe.

The hood covered most of his face, revealing only the dark brown, leathery skin of his chin.

He took each step very slowly, the suction cups at the ends of his tentacles making faint popping sounds against the stone slabs.

Julian stood up abruptly.

Almost simultaneously, the three dukes pushed back their chairs and rose, their movements so rapid that the legs of their chairs scraped harshly against the stone floor.

The young men behind them were half a beat slower, rising as well, their gazes darting back and forth between Gal and their respective elders.

“Master Gal,” Julian said, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. This elderly ruler, who had governed the Thorn Empire for thirty years, now slightly bowed his head, lowering his posture to the absolute limit.

Duke Windsor, Duke Natt, and Duke Mindrow bowed at the same time.

The young men behind them followed suit, and in an instant, the drawing room was filled with bowed heads and bent waists.

Gal, however, did not look at them.

His gaze bypassed Julian's shoulder, swept over the heads of the three dukes, and landed on Duke Leo, who was just preparing to stand up from the host's seat.

Duke Leo's hands had just touched the armrests, his knees not yet leaving the seat.

Gal's tentacles suddenly shot out completely.

Those dark brown tentacles tensed straight, all the suction cups at their ends flaring open.

He took a swift, hurried step forward, the hem of his robe rustling loudly against the stone slabs.

“Duke Leo, you don't have to do this.”

His voice wasn't loud, yet everyone in the drawing room heard it with absolute clarity.

The tone was respectful to the point of humility.

Duke Leo froze in his chair.

His knees remained in the position of just about to rise, his fingers resting on the armrests, completely motionless.

Julian turned his head, staring at Gal's slightly forward-leaning posture as he faced Duke Leo.

His mouth opened slightly, his white beard trembling.

Duke Natt remained bent over, his eyes wide and perfectly round.

Duke Windsor's thin fingers gripped the back of his chair tightly.

Duke Mindrow's mouth opened and closed, the neatly trimmed beard on his chin trembling slightly.

They had known Gal for decades.

This Third-Tier Wizard Apprentice who guarded the Imperial City Wizard Tower usually only gave Julian a slight nod of his head.

Yet now, Gal stood before Duke Leo, all his tentacles extended, keeping his posture incredibly low.

Incredibly low.

This was not right.

Something was deeply wrong.

And at that moment, Gal spoke.

“What this child says is true.”

The moment Gal's words fell, the air in the drawing room seemed to freeze.

The five youths standing behind Julian and the three dukes exchanged sharp glances in an instant.

The respectful and humble expressions on their faces shattered like masks, revealing the hideous malice beneath.

Five figures lunged forward at the exact same moment, their fingers clawed as they pounced toward Julian, Duke Windsor, Duke Natt, and Duke Mindrow before them.

Their movements were astonishingly fast, tearing through the air with sharp, piercing whooshes. Their goal was clear: take hostages.

However, the moment they made their move, a sudden change occurred.

In that split second, the decorative potted plants scattered around the drawing room suddenly began to grow wildly.

Glossy leaves and flexible vines, as if injected with a violent surge of life force, tore through the air at a speed that defied common sense, precisely wrapping around the ankles, wrists, and waists of the five impostors.

“What—?!”

One of the impostors let out a short gasp of shock before his body was violently yanked off the ground by an irresistible, massive force.

Vines rapidly coiled around him, tightening with a teeth-gritting screech that made his bones pop and crack.

The ferocity on his face instantly turned into sheer terror. He was completely encased in a green cocoon with only his head exposed, his face flushing a deep purplish-blue.

The other four were not spared either.

The vines seemed to possess a will of their own, giving them absolutely no time to react as they wrapped, strangled, locked, and bound them in a single, fluid motion.

Their bodies were twisted into all sorts of bizarre contortions, hoisted high into the air by the vines, and then slammed heavily onto the cold, hard obsidian floor.