Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble! Chapter 110: Call For The Devil And He Shall Appear

Wayne curled in on himself, his sobs quieting into ragged breaths as he stared blankly at the floor. "He brought back after." He muttered, almost to himself. "Dropped at the gates like it was nothing. Smiled at ...Told to tell you what I saw. Said you'd understand now." He laughed again, a broken, hollow sound. "And even if you don't understand, I do...I understand."

Wayne's trembling hands fumbled at his side, his voice still flat and lifeless as he spoke, as though the act of recounting the horror had drained him of any remaining will.

"What I've said...It might sound like a fantasy." He murmured, his eyes staring blankly at the floor. "A dream—or a nightmare. I wouldn't bla you if you didn't believe , my lord...It's too much, too mad to be real. That's why..." He reached into his coat, his movents slow and chanical, and pulled out a small, blood—soaked sack. "That's why I took the ti to cut off every bandit's ears."

"...To bring them back with as proof for what I had witnessed."

He tossed the sack onto the desk with a wet thud, and it landed in front of Rodrick, the fabric sagging to reveal its grisly contents.

Bloody ears spilled out, so still glistening with fresh crimson, others crusted and dark—dozens of them, grisly raw evidence to Wayne's tale.

Seeing this, Rodrick recoiled, his chair scraping back as a wave of horror washed over him, his stomach churning at the sight. The tallic stench of blood hit him like a punch, and he pressed a hand to his mouth, his blue eyes wide with disbelief.

"No..." He rasped, shaking his head as he tore his gaze from the sack to glare at Wayne. "I can't believe this!I won't! My son—he's a wastrel, a weakling! No elental powers, no strength—nothing! There's no way he could've done this. It's impossible!" His voice rose, tinged with desperation, as if denying it could erase the evidence staring back at him.

But before Wayne could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air, that sent a chill through his spine.

"...I'm back ho, Father..."

"...Hope you didn't miss too much..."

Rodrick's head snapped toward the door, his breath catching as he saw Cassius's head peeking into the room.

And what he saw froze the blood in his veins..

His son's face was drenched in blood.

Crimson rivulets streaking down his cheeks, matting his dark hair, dripping from his chin to the floor in a slow, relentless patter.

And those glowing red eyes shone through the gore, bright and unyielding, locking onto Rodrick with a chilling calm.

Cassius then stepped fully into the room, revealing his clothes that were also soaked through with blood, the fabric clinging to him like a second skin and he didn't seem to notice or care about the shock etched across his father's face as he witnessed the horrific sight.

"I knew you wouldn't believe Wayne." Cassius said, his voice steady andcasual as he wiped a sar of blood from his cheek, only to streak it further. "Words are cheap, aren't they?...So that's why, just for your sake, I brought an example to show you." He turned his head slightly, his crimson gaze glinting with dark amusent.

"Lucious, bring in the 'example'."

The door swung wider, and Lucious stepped in, as nonchalant as ever, his pristine butler's uniform a stark contrast to his master's blood—drenched state. He didn't flinch at Cassius's appearance, didn't blink at the gore—just carried on with a faint pout, as if mildly inconvenienced.

In his grasp was Edmund, gagged and bound, his eyes wild with terror as Lucious dragged him forward and threw him unceremoniously to the floor at Cassius's feet.

Rodrick's jaw dropped, his hands gripping the desk as he stared at the doctor. "Edmund?!" He sputtered, his voice rising with a mix of confusion and outrage. "What's he doing here? Did you kidnap him, you bastard?!"

Cassius tilted his head, his smile widening into sothing sharp and knowing. "Does it matter who kidnapped him?" He replied, his tone deceptively light. "What matters is that Edmund's been a busy little bee—trying to poison , over and over again. And why, you ask?"

He leaned forward slightly, his blood—streaked face catching the lamplight as he fixed Rodrick with a pointed stare.

"Because a certain soone kept whispering in his ear. Filling his head with ideas—promises that if I just...disappeared, if I ceased to exist, then he'd be welcod as a third son...Valued, cherished, a proper part of the family."

The accusation hung in the air, heavy and damning, and Rodrick's face tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line. He didn't deny it couldn't, not with the truth laid bare like that.

Wayne's head snapped up, his pale face twisting with shock as he stared at his lord. "My lord...You...?" He stamred, the revelation hitting him like a blow.

He'd served Rodrick for decades, trusted him implicitly, and yet this—manipulating Edmund to kill his own son—had been kept from him.

Cassius waved a hand dismissively, the blood on his fingers leaving a faint sar in the air.

"Oh, don't look so surprised, Wayne." He said, his voice tinged with mock sympathy. "Father's always been good at pulling strings. But I don't care about that anymore—past is past, water under the bridge."

His smile faded, replaced by a cold, resolute glint in his eyes as he stepped closer to Edmund, who writhed on the floor, his muffled pleas growing frantic.

"What I do care about is showing him that everything Wayne told you is true. And Edmund here?...He's the perfect example."

Rodrick's breath hitched, his hands clenching as Cassius lood over the bound doctor. "What are you—" He started, but the words died in his throat as Cassius moved.

With a casual, deliberate motion, he planted a boot on Edmund's back, pinning him to the floor.

The doctor's muffled screams intensified, his body thrashing beneath the weight as Cassius slowly lowered his hand, his fingers flexing with a predator's grace.

And then to everyone's horror, Cassius effortlessly dug his hand into Edmund's back, his fingers sinking into the flesh near the base of the spine with a sickening squelch.

Squelch~

"AHHH!~ MMMMM!~ AHHHHH!~ MMMMM!~ AHHHHHHH!~"

Edmund's screams erupted through the gag, raw and agonized, but Cassius didn't mind as Cassius's hand burrowed deeper, blood welling up around his wrist.

Rodrick staggered back, his chair toppling as he pressed himself against the desk, while Wayne let out a choked gasp, his hands flying to his mouth.

Lucious rely watched, his expression bored, as if this were just another chore.

And if this wasn't already too much to witness, Cassius's fingers then closed around the spine, gripping it tightly as Edmund's body convulsed in agony, his screams reaching a fevered pitch.

Blood pooled beneath him, soaking into the rug, and then Cassius's crimson eyes locked onto Rodrick's, holding his father's gaze with an unblinking intensity.

"See, Father." He said, his voice calm and steady despite the horror unfolding. "This is what I am. What I've beco."

"...What you've created, as once you called the devil enough tis, he'll appear before you whether you like it or not."

With one last, evil smile, Cassius tightened his grip and pulled.

Crack!~

The sound was grotesque.

A wet, ripping crack as the spine tore free, vertebrae snapping one by one.

Edmund's screams cut off abruptly as Cassius then yanked the entire length of the spine from his body, the head still attached, dangling limply from the end.

Blood sprayed across the room, splattering the desk, the walls, and Rodrick's frozen form as the lifeless husk of Edmund collapsed to the floor, a crimson pool spreading beneath it.

Cassius held the spine aloft, the head swinging gently, its lifeless eyes staring blankly as blood dripped from the severed end. He then tilted his head, his smile unwavering as he t Rodrick's horrified gaze.

"Do you understand now?" He asked, his voice soft but laced with a chilling satisfaction. "Everything you've built, everything you love—it's mine to take."

"...And there's nothing you can do about it."

Rodrick's legs gave out, and he sank to his knees, his hands trembling as he stared at the monstrous sight before him—his son, drenched in blood, holding a man's spine like a trophy.

Wayne simply whimpered, curling in on himself as the reality of what he'd witnessed in the mountains crashed back, magnified by the brutality he'd just seen, while Lucious sighed, brushing a speck of blood from his sleeve, utterly unfazed.

The study was silent except for the faint drip of blood hitting the floor, a sound that seed to echo Rodrick's crumbling world.

The devil he'd hunted had returned—not to fight, but to prove a point, but to take what was his. And in that mont, Rodrick understood:

Cassius wasn't just a threat...He was the end.