Chang’an City, the Townsend Estate.

Inside the council hall, an old man in black robes with snow-white hair slowly spoke, “Before the ancestors, Arthur Townsend is reckless, shallow, lacking virtue and ability… After discussion among the elders, we’ve agreed he is unfit to hold the title of heir. As of today, it is stripped from him and passed to Myron Townsend.”

Behind the speaker stood a youth wearing a faint, calm smile—Myron.

Elders of the Townsend family flanked both sides of the black-robed elder.

Before his words had fully died out, a clear but defiant voice cut through the quiet, “Why?”

Heads turned toward the doors. A small girl stood there, around twelve or thirteen, clutching her skirt tightly. Her face was pale, breath weak, eyes carrying a trace of fear.

She was Lillian Townsend, Arthur’s younger sister. She’d heard about the decision to strip her brother of his title and had rushed over despite being ill.

Elder Townsend frowned. “Lillian, this is the family council. Who gave you permission to eavesdrop?”

Lillian bowed lightly to the elders, voice timid. “Elder Townsend… why are you taking my brother’s title?”

The elder snorted coldly. “This is a matter for the family to decide. We've deliberated. Not up for debate. Leave.”

Though clearly scared, Lillian lowered her head, then stepped forward and bowed again. “Elders… my brother’s fought for this family for years. He nearly gave his life for the mining rights. Isn’t it unfair to cast him aside like this? It’s heartbreaking.”

“Out of line!” the elder shouted. “You’re just a girl! How dare you meddle in clan affairs. Guards—throw her out!”

At that moment, Myron Townsend chuckled. “Father, shouldn’t we stick to the rules? She’s committing insubordination. Thirty strokes of the rod will make an example. Otherwise, what order is left in this household?”

Elder Townsend nodded coolly. “So be it. Thirty strokes.”

Two servants entered swiftly.

Lillian clenched her fists, shouting angrily, “Elder Townsend! You can’t do this! My brother’s still out there fighting! How could you treat him like this?”

“You still dare raise your voice?”

Smack!

A guard stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face.

He wasn’t stupid—he knew Myron was now in charge, and this was his moment to show loyalty, so he didn't pull his punch.

The slap echoed through the hall, and Lillian’s cheek swelled up instantly.

But she didn’t cry. She just held her cheek tightly with one hand and glared at all of them in silence.Myron Townsend let out a cold chuckle, eyes settling on the guard. "What's your name?"

The man quickly replied with a sycophantic smile, "Sir, I'm Evander Wood."

Myron gave him a nod. "Good. From today, you're by my side. You're my personal guard."

Ecstatic, Evander dropped to one knee and gave a deep bow. "Thank you, Your Grace. I’ll serve you with all I’ve got—till death if need be!"

Myron waved his hand lazily. "Alright. Take her away. And don’t go easy on her, understand?"

Catching the murderous intent in Myron's eyes, Evander understood instantly. He grabbed Lillian Townsend by the hair and dragged her out without a bit of hesitation.

But before they reached the threshold, he froze.

Everyone turned toward the hall’s entrance.

Outside, a youth was walking in. His robe, once brown, was now barely holding together—tattered and soaked in blood.

It was Arthur Townsend, straight from Jason South.

Seeing his brother appear, Myron's smile grew darker.

The elders in the hall, too, looked uneasy, especially Elder Townsend, whose face was dark as night, his thoughts unreadable.

Arthur walked in, blood-soaked hair shifting to reveal a striking yet blood-stained face. The moment his eyes landed on his sister in Evander’s grasp, his gaze turned ice-cold.

"You looking to die?"

Evander’s face blanched the instant he saw Arthur. Panicked, he looked toward Myron, about to speak—but Arthur was already on him in a blur, like a wild beast.

The punch came fast and brutal.

Thud!

Evander’s face caved in with a sickening crack, his body flung backward, crashing hard to the ground.

But Arthur didn’t stop. He charged again.

Myron barked, "Arthur! He’s mine now. You lay a finger on him and—"

Boom!

Arthur’s foot came down hard on Evander’s chest.

“Aaaargh!!!”

A bloodcurdling scream rang out. Blood sprayed from Evander’s lips.

Myron’s fists clenched, face twisted with rage. Arthur looked up at him, voice cold, “I touched him. What now?”

Then he stomped down.

Crack!

Evander’s skull burst under his heel. Blood splashed everywhere.

Arthur kicked the lifeless, ruined body toward Myron, stopping it cold at his feet.

Ignoring the accusations hurled from every elder in the room, Arthur turned and hurried to Lillian's side.

Lillian broke down, eyes full of sorrow. She clung to him.

“Brother… it hurts… Lillian hurts…”

His chest tightened at the sight of her.

“I'll make sure each one of them pays. Every last one.”