The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 64 He is a big boy

Even Maena was mused seeing Lorryll. He wasn't the type to show such petty behaviour, but now he was going all out on a young man because of the drake. She could tell it was hurting his pride as the drake didn't choose him.

Maena, standing a short distance away with her retina, showed no signs of faltering. She observed the display with her characteristic cool detachment, her black-silver hair gleaming in the fading sunlight. If anything, a faint smirk played at the corner of her lips, as though she found the entire scene mildly amusing.

Lorryll narrowed his eyes, directing the full force of his aura at Jolthar. The energy, wild and untamed, surged like a raging beast, seeking to crush the man who dared defy him.

Yet Jolthar remained still, his expression unyielding.

The storm of aura whipped around him, but it might as well have been a summer breeze for all the effect it had. His calm demeanour only seemed to stir Lorryll's fury further.

Jolthar was using his voidwrath to block all the aura, which was trying to suppress him and it was reason why the aura had no effect on him.

"You truly think you can stand against me?" Lorryll growled, his voice laced with venom. His sword gleamed in the fading light, the blade vibrating faintly as it resonated with his aura. He raised it slightly, the tension in the air growing to a fever pitch.

"Your strength doesn't scare me," Jolthar said, his voice steady. His words cut through the cacophony like a blade of their own, carrying a weight that matched Lorryll's fury.

For a moment, silence hung heavy at the gates.

The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what would happen next. The knights, still reeling from Lorryll's outburst, looked on with wide eyes, unsure whether they should intervene or flee.

The drake shifted slightly, a low rumble escaping its throat, but it didn't move from Jolthar's side. Its golden eyes glinted, watching Lorryll intently as though ready to defend its new master.

Her words carried an unspoken challenge, and for a moment, it seemed Lorryll might direct his fury at her instead.

Then, to everyone's surprise, a woman's voice cut through the heated exchange.

"Lorryll," she said, stepping forward to place a hand on his arm.

"Enough." Liliana, Lorryll's wife, stepped forward from the crowd. Her presence was calm and commanding, her gaze fixed on her husband. "The drake isn't a threat anymore. Look at it."

He looked at her, his expression still stormy, but the tension in his shoulders began to ease.

Slowly, the raging aura around him began to dissipate, the oppressive weight lifting from the area. The knights exhaled in relief, though they still kept their distance.

Lorryll hesitated, his anger wavering as he turned to Liliana. She walked closer to Jolthar, her elegant dress trailing behind her.

A faint smile played on her lips as she addressed the gathered crowd.

"Besides," she continued, "this drake is now a gift to my new brother."

"Brother?" Lorryll repeated, his expression twisting in confusion and anger.

"Yes," Liliana said smoothly. "Jolthar is like a brother to me. And as a brother, I see no harm in him keeping the creature. It's a fitting match, don't you think?"

Lorryll watched her with a confused expression. He didn't understand why she would give this drake to him, and moreover, she called him brother—a nobody like Jolthar. It was the latter part that infuriated Lorryll the most.

Her tone was light, almost teasing, but there was an edge to her words that silenced any further protests. Jolthar raised an eyebrow, surprised by her intervention, though he masked it quickly.

Lorryll's face darkened with frustration, his lips pressing into a thin line. He looked between Liliana, Jolthar, and the drake before finally spinning on his heel.

"Fine," he growled. "Do what you want."

Without another word, he stormed off, his footsteps heavy with irritation.

Liliana followed after him, though she paused briefly to glance back at Jolthar. She offered him a cryptic smile before disappearing into the estate after her husband.

Maena remained silent as she watched them leave.

As the crowd began to disperse, Maena approached Jolthar, her amusement evident in the slight quirk of her lips. "Impressive," she said quietly, her tone carrying a hint of approval. "You've managed to rile him up without lifting a finger."

Jolthar glanced at her, his expression neutral. "It wasn't intentional."

Maena chuckled softly. "Perhaps not. But it's clear you're not as ordinary as he likes to think."

Jolthar said nothing, his thoughts turning inward.

The drake beside him let out a low rumble, nudging his shoulder with its massive head. He reached up to place a hand on its snout, his touch surprisingly gentle.

Elowen, who had been observing from the shadows, stepped forward at last. Her eyes swept over the scene, taking in the broken gates, the subdued knights, and the calm drake.

"The drake is yours now," she said, her voice cool and measured. "Take it back to the pit and see to its care. Once that's done, report to me."

Jolthar nodded, his gaze steady. "Understood."

As he turned to lead the drake away, Elowen and Maena exchanged a look.

"The kid is full of surprises," Maena murmured.

Elowen's lips curved into a faint smile. "Yes. Just like his mother."

"So, what's with Lorryll?" Maena sighed as she turned to Elowen.

"Lorryll has changed," Elowen said quietly.

"Yeah, I can see that," Maena replied, her voice low. "And not for the better."

Elowen sighed, her expression unreadable. "He is leaving the estate."

Maena shot her a look of disbelief and asked her, "What? Why?"

Elowen didn't answer immediately. Her gaze shifted to Jolthar, who was now stroking the drake's head, his movements surprisingly gentle for someone with such a hardened exterior.

"He wants to live elsewhere," Elowen said at last. "He wants to have his own home, so he says."