Return of Black Lotus system:Taming Cheating Male Leads

Chapter 414: Chapter-414

Samuel’s hand instantly flew to his sword, a blinding, murderous rage exploding from his towering frame—but before the blade could even leave its scabbard, the universe intervened.

Right at that exact, perfectly timed second, the heavy double doors of the main hall were violently thrown open.

Standing at the threshold was a towering, battle-scarred figure radiating a suffocating, bloodthirsty aura that had been forged in decades of war. The Old Marquis had arrived.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" the Grandfather roared, his voice echoing through the hall like a literal thunderclap.

Instantly, every single trace of Heena’s ruthless mockery vanished.

As she sat collapsed on the floor, her dark eyes rapidly filled with giant, heavy tears. She covered her rapidly reddening cheek with trembling hands, curling her shoulders inward to make herself look as small and fragile as possible. She looked exactly like a deeply traumatized, violently abused child.

"Father..." Heena whimpered, her voice cracking with perfect, devastating agony. "Why...?"

The Marquis, who had been completely blinded by his own rage just a second ago, froze. His furious expression instantly crumbled into absolute, sheer terror as he turned to see the Old Marquis practically vibrating with murderous intent. He had never, in his entire life, seen his battle-hardened father look so violently angry.

"Father... I..." the Marquis stammered, stepping back and trembling under the crushing weight of the old man’s aura. "I only intended to—"

CRACK!

It was a sound ten times louder and vastly more brutal than the slap Heena had just received.

The Old Marquis didn’t even let him finish his sentence. Moving with a speed that defied his age, the Grandfather struck his son with the full, crushing force of a seasoned war general. The impact literally lifted the Marquis off his feet, sending the massive man crashing violently onto the ground.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL CHILD!" the Grandfather bellowed, his voice shaking the very foundations of the room.

The Marchioness, seeing her husband sprawled on the floor, completely lost her mind. She scrambled forward, her voice a screech of pure panic. "My Lord! Please, you must listen! Your son only did it because she insulted—"

"Shut your mouth before I have your tongue cut out!" the Grandfather roared, not even granting her a glance.

The Old Marquis stood over his son like a towering god of war, his breathing heavy, his chest heaving with absolute fury. "Get up," he commanded, his voice dropping into a dangerously low, gravelly register.

The Marquis groggily tried to push himself up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his ears ringing from the sheer force of the blow. He looked up at his father, his eyes wide with a primal, childlike terror.

"Tell me," the Grandfather hissed, his fists clenching so hard his leather gloves creaked. "How dare you raise your hand against the ’sole heir’ of my Marquisate estate?!"

Before the Marquis could even stammer out a pathetic excuse, the Grandfather’s gaze shifted to the side.

There sat Heena on the cold stone floor. Her delicate face was deathly pale, her cheek already swelling into a brutal, angry red. But it was her eyes that truly broke the old man’s heart—they looked completely hollow, wide and entirely lifeless, as if the last ounce of her spirit had just been violently crushed out of her by her own flesh and blood. She looked exactly like a ghost trapped in a nightmare.

Seeing his precious granddaughter reduced to such a pitiable state of sheer trauma, the Grandfather’s remaining sanity completely snapped.

Without a shred of mercy, he pulled his heavy military boot back and violently kicked the Marquis squarely in the stomach.

’CRACK!’

"OWGH!" The Marquis doubled over, groaning in absolute agony as the air was violently forced from his lungs. He slid across the polished floor, clutching his torso, completely stripped of any dignity he had left.

The four grooms scrambled back in their chairs, their faces entirely white, terrified that the old general might turn his murderous wrath toward them next. Samuel stood perfectly rigid behind Heena, his hand still white-knuckled on his sword hilt, his dark eyes locked onto his wife with a terrifying mixture of agonizing worry and profound awe at her flawless acting.

The Grandfather slowly bent down, grabbing his gasping son by the collar of his expensive robes and dragging him upward until they were nose-to-nose. He pointed a thick, weathered finger directly at the Marquis’s throat.

"If I want to," the Grandfather whispered, his voice vibrating with a chilling, bloodthirsty promise, "I can kill you in a single split-second motion. You absolute monster."

With that he throw him .

The Marquis hit the floor so hard that the heavy mahogany dining table actually rattled. A trail of blood immediately leaked from the corner of his mouth, his ears ringing as he stared up at his father in absolute, mind-numbing shock.

The Old Marquis didn’t even spare his pathetic son a second glance.

The terrifying, bloodthirsty aura that had just filled the room instantly vanished. The towering war general practically threw himself to the floor, kneeling down with astonishing speed beside Heena’s collapsed form. His massive, calloused hands—hands that had snapped enemy necks on the battlefield—reached out with heartbreaking gentleness.

"Seera... my sweet child," the Old Marquis’s voice cracked, completely stripped of its previous rage. "Are you alright? Let Grandfather see."

Heena flinched perfectly, shrinking back just a fraction before letting out a soft, devastating sob. She lowered her trembling hands, revealing the bright red, hand-shaped welt rapidly forming on her pale cheek.

The Old Marquis’s eyes widened. A dark, murderous storm instantly returned to his gaze as he stared at the bruise.

Heena threw her arms around the old man’s neck, burying her face into his broad chest. She began to cry—not loud, screeching wails like her mother, but quiet, broken, suffocating sobs that made her small shoulders shake violently. It was the absolute pinnacle of acting.

"Grandfather..." Heena choked out, her voice muffled against his coat. "I... I was only trying to help the estate... I only asked how they were doing... and Father just..."

She let the sentence hang, letting another pathetic sob do the rest of the talking.

"I know, I know," the Old Marquis hushed her, gently patting her hair as he glared over her head. His eyes locked onto his son, who was still groveling on the floor, and then shifted to the Marchioness, who was paralyzed with terror. "I saw exactly what happened."

"Father-in-law!" the Marchioness finally shrieked, dropping to her knees in sheer panic. "You must listen to us! It is not what it looks like! She has been completely unhinged! She stripped her brothers of all their belongings yesterday, and today she was ruthlessly mocking us—"

’’"BROTHERS?!"’’ the Old Marquis boomed, his voice vibrating with such lethal intensity that the Marchioness instantly clamped her mouth shut and curled into a ball.

The Grandfather slowly stood up, carefully keeping Heena tucked safely behind him. He looked down at the four grooms, who were huddled together in their cheap linen clothes, looking absolutely terrified.

"I leave the borders for a few years, and you turn my noble house into a breeding ground for stray dogs?" the Old Marquis snarled, pointing a thick, scarred finger at the grooms. "I have exactly ’one’ heir. One bloodline. And you have the absolute gall to bring these useless, soft-handed leeches into my home and force my granddaughter to call them brothers?!"