121 Reason

The wrecked living room was filled with dust once again. The debris from the broken wall was piling up on the floor as the hole revealed the inside of another room. One could see that there was a skinny figure slowly slumping down from a wall inside the unfamiliar room as cracked was seen behind it.

*cough

With dust covering Graff's outfit he coughed as blood spurted out from his mouth staining the floor. As his breathing was rapid, he struggled to get up on his own. Little by little, he finally propped himself up but the pain on his chest made him twitched. While gritting his teeth he ripped his upper torso as his eyes opened wide with horror.

"You're kidding.." The old man was in disbelief as he saw his own chest. The right side of his ribs dented as one could make a trace of a foot landing there.

Graff couldn't help but gulped, he knew his own body more than anyone else in this world. A kick should never make damage like that, especially from a mere Soul Realm cultivator. However, what dreaded him the most was that he could feel the right side of his ribs would break by just a tap from a finger.

As the dust slowly cleared up, he looked at the figure responsible for his horrendous state. The guest that he revered as sir was standing tall with his hands dug in his own pocket. Despite the distance of their realms, Graff felt that he was the lower leveled one.

*tap *tap

Lyon slowly approached the head butler as if he was strolling in the park. Upon closer look, one could see a faint greenish aura that had a divine bearing exuding from his figure. Not even the dust dared to touch his majestic aura as he stood in front of the critical injured old man.

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Graff lookup at his assailer with calm eyes. Despite his ridiculous injuries, there was no sense of grudge building inside him. With his struggle breathing, he said, "S-Sir Lyon, you are definitely the star of our younger generation, no I dare to say that you currently are the best, the strongest, not even the first prince of Luderia could hold a candle against you!"

Lyon seemed unperturbed with Graff's praising as he said, "I know."

Graff unintentionally splurted more blood as he heard what he said. He was wondering if that was shameless or confident of him.

Clemora and Biane couldn't help but chuckle behind Lyon. Though they didn't have much experience with him, they knew that he would answer like that.

"It's a shame, you would have escaped from here if not for being noisy beside me," Lyon proceed to pick up the zither that laid on the ground unscathed. Graff could only watch as he did so, the target he was supposed to retrieve was casually picked up by a young man.

"So, I'm guessing you are working for the first prince?" asked Lyon while checking up the zither he just picked up.

Graff smiled as he said, "There is nothing to hide anymore, I'm already at my death door."

"What did he offer you that makes you betray us?" Lyon was not the one asking the question, instead, it was Biane. She was the type that put camaraderie first and a traitor was her bane.

"Ah, Lady Biane, you always put others before you, your naivety would kill you someday," Graff chuckled before his coughs keep up.

"Enough, just answer my older sister's question," said Clemora as she confronted the ex-head butler.

While closing his eyes he said, "It was, a chance."

The two ladies were confused as he heard what he just said. Graff laughed while seeing their expression.

"What do you mean by a chance? A chance for what?" Biane was eager to know his answer.

Graff's eyes slowly turned shallow as he said softly, "To destroy your father."

His words struck a flash of lightning to Clemora and Biane. They initially thought that the offer would be something more materialistic like money or a high position in Luderia but the reality was something else.

"Quite a word you use there," said Lyon as he put the zither into his spatial ring. Unbeknownst to the people around him, his greenish aura was getting thinner by time.

"I expect nothing less from Sir Lyon," said Graff as he smiled. He could turn his sadness into a happy one in just a snap of a finger. That was a professional butler for you.

Clemora caught on what Lyon was saying after a quick contemplation. Usually, in that kind of situation, one would not use the word 'destroy' but the word 'kill' instead.

"Why?" asked Biane as he looked at the pitiful old man.

"Revenge," Clemora immediately answered for him.

Graff helplessly smiled, "That is correct Lady Clemora, revenge. I'm sorry to say that mine was so big I wouldn't mind killing you both in the process to achieve it." Graff shook his head as he continued in a soft voice, "It's been too long overdue."

"What happened?" asked Biane.

Graff looked at them with pitful eyes, "The world is vast, beautiful yet brutal. You see before I was the head butler here, I'm a grandfather with one granddaughter as a family."

He was interrupted with his own cough as blood inside his body was getting less and less. His skin was getting paler with sweat was forming upon his forehead.

At the same time, Lyon's greenish aura was completely gone as he felt his body slowly numb.

"She was such a sweet child, but one dreadful day when she was playing with a ball in the streets..." Graff paused as his nightmare flashed before continuing, "She was run over by a noble riding a horse. The noble said that it was her fault for standing in the way and she gets what she deserved."

"I wailed on the street, seeking for justice that never came. The warmth of my granddaughter gradually fades as I held her in my arms. That was the turning point where I would become this house butler seeking a chance to thoroughly destroy him."

Baine was about to sympathize where Lyon suddenly said, "That's too bad, you can't destroy someone that was already 'destroyed'."