The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!
Chapter 84: The Heir’s Prowess

Chapter 84: The Heir’s Prowess

The estate was tranquil, the scent of fresh blooms wafting in from the garden and a soft breeze ruffling the curtains. It was an unusually calm day.

Aaron left earlier that day for Ivan’s house. He questioned why he was being sent away. He didn’t want to leave but Alaric gave him a look. He gave in and went to pack.

"First Adeline, and now me. I wonder what they are doing after sending away innocent children like us." Aaron sulked.

The Marquess sat in his study, focused on paperwork while Alaric was deeply immersed in his studies.

Outside, the weather was sunny and pleasant. It felt like the perfect day. But beneath this calm, something sinister was at play.

Infiltrating the mansion were ten assassins, carefully disguised as common staff. They had arrived slowly over the past few days, each assigned menial roles that allowed them access to various parts of the mansion.

They had waited, watching and learning the routines of the estate, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The head butler, an astute old man with an eye for detail, had taken leave, leaving a temporary gap in the mansion’s otherwise strict supervision. It was the window they needed.

The Head Butler would definitely recognise them, so they needed to act quickly. Who knows when they will get this opportunity again?

They blended in seamlessly, from the maid sweeping the hallways to the gardener in the courtyard, moving with calculated ease, their eyes constantly darting around, searching for their targets.

Their orders were clear: take the children, unharmed, as hostages. There was no room for error. Their employer had insisted on subtlety, on keeping their cover intact until the final moment.

It was a high-risk mission with the promise of a hefty reward upon success, no more than ten assassins, they knew, would slip under the radar without alarming the Marquess.

The assassins moved through the mansion under the guise of ’cleaning.’ Each man had memorized the layout, ensuring they checked every room quickly yet subtly. Time was of the essence, and they didn’t want to raise suspicion.

It was frustrating, they planned on kidnapping a younger child like Adeline, and if worst comes to worst, Aaron. But they weren’t here! Only Alaric.

They found Alaric lying on a couch, focused on a book before dozing off. He had fallen asleep in the warm afternoon sun, which had gently lulled him into a calm nap, so he didn’t hear the assassins quietly approaching.

One assassin took out a vial of strong sedative, made to knock out even the toughest adult. As they came closer, Alaric began to wake up.

Sensing someone in the room, he sat up, realizing something was wrong, but before he could act, one assassin grabbed him while another pressed a cloth soaked in sedative over his mouth.

Alaric struggled, trying to break free, but the drug worked fast, making his body go limp and his vision blur as he slipped into unconsciousness.

They hadn’t planned on kidnapping the eldest son, and he was hardly an easy mark. But leaving him here, half-aware of their presence would risk the entire mission!

They had expected to take one of the younger children, Aaron or Adeline. They hadn’t planned to handle a teenager, but they couldn’t leave him here or let him wake up.

"Take him to the garden," the leader whispered. "We’ll use the teleportation crystals there to escape. We have what we need. Make sure to tie his wrists..."

The eldest son of the Western Marquess had inherited his family’s element. Fire... It was strong and destructive. They couldn’t underestimate him just because he was a teenager.

Moving in silence, they carried Alaric through the mansion halls, avoiding the guards. Reaching the garden, they felt a wave of relief.

They were nearly out. Their employer had provided teleportation crystals to ensure a quick escape once they reached the edge of the grounds. What they needed to do was to get out. They didn’t care where the crystal might drop them.

The leader pulled out a shimmering yellow crystal, ready to activate it and get them out. The others gathered around, prepared to make their exit. They were so close to fulfilling their mission, a grand reward awaited them at the end...

But just as he began to activate the crystal, a wave of intense heat surged through the air, and flames erupted around them, forming a fiery barrier that crackled and hissed. The crystal burst into flames, turning to ash in seconds.

He saw helplessly as their only means of escape was lost.

The assassins froze in shock and terror, looking around in terror. The flame was so close that their skin was close to burning. A tall figure stepped out from the shadows at the edge of the garden, surrounded by an aura of blazing fire.

It was the Marquess! The rage in his eyes was just as intense as the fire.

His presence alone was enough to make the assassins shiver despite the searing heat of the flames around them.

"You dare to invade my home," he said softly, his voice cutting through the silence. "You have a death wish." He scoffed.

The leader of the assassins tried to respond, but his mouth was dry, and his voice was shaky with fear. "We... We had no choice. We were only following orders."

Why were they so stupid? Why did they accept this mission?! Who doesn’t know the conquests of the Western Marquess?! If they were caught... They would die.

But the reward was just too grand... No one ever offered up that much gold before!

The Marquess’s gaze sharpened, his expression growing colder. "Following orders? Whose orders would make you so foolish as to take one of my children?"

The flames surrounding them grew higher, casting an ominous glow over everything. They knew escape was impossible. What was the point of keeping their employer’s secret?

"We- We will talk-" one of them stammered, glancing around for a way out.

The Marquess raised his hand, and the flames shot closer to the assassins.

"Heh, I already know who is behind you. He should know none of you will make it out alive."

The leader clenched his jaw, glancing at the unconscious Alaric. With no way to escape and no chance of winning a fight, he knew their mission had failed.

The leader’s face twisted in fear, glancing at the unconscious Alaric as though he held some bargaining power. Summoning his remaining courage, he hissed, "Your son... is in our hands."

The Marquess smirked. He thought he could use the heir he had been training as a bargaining chip? He shook his head thinking how much of a fool they were.

The leader couldn’t understand, his eldest son was in their hands, knocked unconscious! How could he smile at a time like this?!

The leader’s eyes widened. One second he was standing and the next he was on the ground. His throat was tightly gripped by Alaric. One squeeze and he knew he would die.

The Northern Duchy was known for its agriculture, the South for its valuable minerals, and the East for its art scene but what was the West known for? For it’s military.

Its army was only second after the Imperial army. Seeing how they stayed low for a while, people started to underestimate him...

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