The Useless Prince Is A Gangster
Chapter 85. Duke

Chapter 85: 85. Duke

The heavy double doors of the Caulem manor groaned open as Leo stepped inside, his boots echoing on the gleaming marble floor. Towering portraits of past Dukes placed along the hallway. Leonhardt’s childhood memories flickered in Reo’s mind—how he’d scurried past these paintings, feeling tiny and judged. Now, they were just old paint, meaningless to him.

Servants lined the entry hall, bowing low, some lingering longer than needed, their eyes averted. "Welcome home, Young Master Leonhardt," they murmured in unison.

His eyes swept over them, recognizing the faces—the same ones who’d whispered behind Leonhardt’s back, shunned him, made him an outcast in his own home. He gave a curt nod, brushing past without a word.

A flash of movement caught his eye—a little auburn-haired girl, Vivien, darting up the grand staircase, her small figure vanishing around the corner. A faint smile tugged at Leo’s lips, amused by her skittish retreat.

"Vivien’s still scared of you, elder brother," a cheerful voice called.

Leo looked down to see Lucian, seated in a wheelchair, his face glowing with genuine happiness. Bandages wrapped his leg, where he got injury after the fight with Valtharion. His eyes widened slightly.

Lucian waved off the concern, his attendant pushing the wheelchair. "Don’t worry brother, it’s not bad. Just a broken leg—should heal in a few days." With effort, he stood, wobbling, and threw his arms around Reo in a tight hug.

Reo froze, caught off guard. The servants gasped softly, their eyes wide—Lucian, the favored second son, embracing the disgraced heir? Even Liana, standing beamed with quiet joy.

Lucian pulled back, his voice soft but earnest. "Thank you, brother. You didn’t just save me—you saved everyone. I heard you got worst injuries than me, but... thank God you made it."

Leo’s expression softened, a rare warmth in his crimson eyes. He tapped Lucian’s back gently, helping him ease back into the wheelchair. "It’s alright, little brother," he said, his voice low but genuine. "Glad you’re okay."

Lucian tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Heard you stopped by to see Senior Rin. How’s she doing? Velmira’s been real sad about her."

Leo chuckled, impressed by Lucian’s concern for his fiancée despite his own injuries. "She’s doing fine. I even invited her to your birthday banquet."

Lucian’s smile widened. "That’s great, brother!"

The head butler approached, bowing stiffly. "Young Master Leonhardt, Lord Duke awaits you in his study."

He sighed, glancing at Liana. "Get a bath ready." She nodded, and he turned back to Lucian, ruffling his hair with a grin. "Catch you at dinner, little brother." He strode off, the servants parting like water before him.

Minutes later, he stood before the Duke’s office door, his mind buzzing with Leonhardt memories. He knew it all—why Duke Alric was so distant, why Leonhardt had been treated like an outcast. Exhaling, he knocked firmly. A deep voice answered, "Come in."

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, his crimson eyes meeting the Duke’s steady gaze, ready for whatever lay ahead.

The heavy oak door of the Duke’s study thudded shut behind Reo as he stepped inside. The room was grand but cold, its towering bookshelves stuffed with thick books and its massive desk buried under maps and scrolls.

Duke Alric sat at the desk, glasses perched on his nose, engrossed in paperwork.

Leo strode forward, his boots silent on the polished floor, and stopped before the desk, shoulders squared. "Good afternoon, Father," he said, his voice a blade—sharp, unwavering. "You summoned me."

Alric’s gaze lifted, his eyes locking onto Leo’s crimson ones. For a moment, surprise flickered across his face—this was no longer the cowering boy he’d dismissed. The fire in Reo’s stare burned with defiance. Alric removed his glasses, setting them down with deliberate care. "You’ve changed, Leonhardt," he said, his tone low. "Everything about you is... unrecognizable."

His lips curled into a sardonic smirk. "Hard to tell when we barely speak, wouldn’t you say, Father?"

Alric didn’t flinch. Instead, he chuckled, a rare sound, and rose from his chair, gesturing to the couches. "Sit."

Leo exhaled, dropping into the chair with a casual grace, his eyes never leaving Alric.

Alric rang a bell, summoning a servant. "Bring two teas," he said, but Reo cut in.

"Coffee for me."

Alric raised a brow, surprised, then nodded. "One tea, one coffee." The servant bowed and left. Minutes later, they sat with steaming cups—tea for the Duke, coffee for Reo.

Alric’s gaze sharpened. "I’ve heard of your feats these past two months, son. Awakening your Aura, winning duels, joining the student council, bonding with Lucian, and... putting the crownprince in his place. What caused this change?"

Leo sipped his coffee, shrugging. "Nothing special. A brush with death woke me up. Being weak and scared gets you nowhere—no love, no respect. So, I decided to stop getting stepped on and start doing the stepping."

Leo’s eyes gleamed with rare approval, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "Well spoken, son." His tone hardened, the air growing taut. "But I called you here for the hunting cage incident."

Leo’s expression didn’t waver, leans back. "Sir Serion already gave you the full report. There’s nothing more to add."

Alric’s gaze bore into him, unyielding. "He told me what happened. I’m telling you why." He leaned forward, his voice a low growl. "You still think Lucian or you were their target? Wrong. It was you, Son. Always you. Because you carry the King’s Aura."

Leo’s hand tightened around his cup, coffee sloshing slightly. "King’s Aura? And this Ruler’s Prophecy crap? It’s been ringing in my head since I woke up—everyone whispering it like it’s gospel. I thought it was just a bedtime story for kids."

Alric’s expression darkened, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "So did I, once. A myth to inspire fools. But your Aura, your sudden strength, the attempts on your life—they’re no accident." He paused, the firelight casting shadows across his face. "Sir Serion spoke of the cult. The Order of Ruin. They serve Goddess Ashtarya. Do you know who she is, Leonhardt?"

Leo’s breath caught,

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