Inside a simple room, a girl was knocked down on the floor by a young man with dark blond hair.

The girl's violet eyes shed tears, and her throat emitted constant cries of protest as her clothes were torn apart by the young man's hands.

The young man's blue eyes contained no desire or lust, but hatred. The girl he was trying to attack was his younger half-sister, a girl who had been praised by several instructors as bright, talented, and described as beautiful by many servants.

The young man's reason for attacking his little half-sister in this way was simple, a great unjustified hatred that he was fed day by day by his own ineptitude.

Richell Eis Lutrel, the heir to the Lutrel Family, a young man of energetic character who lived under constant pressure to become a suitable heir to his father.

Having lived much of his childhood being pressured by his talented younger brother, Darrel Eis Lutrel, Richell could not adapt to the sudden intrusion into his life of this little younger half-sister, Elena Eis Lutrel, who was described as favorably by instructors as Darrel.

Feeling pressured now even by a girl who was the product of her father's slip with a simple slave, Richell found only one way to deal with the girl's existence, hating her and taking any opportunity to humiliate her.

With his father absent and feel supported by the rest of his family, Richell had decided put into practice what he had heard from a servant, a way to ruin the life of this girl he so hated and cause his father to expel her from his home, take her of her chastity. Without her purity, this girl would not have any kind of use for his father. This was Richell's thought.

Elena struggled to try resist, one of her hands reached Richell's face and her fingernails ripped his skin. Carried by the anger that caused by that scratch on his face, Richell threw a blow on Elena's face, then took her hair and stripped her of a butterfly-shaped brooch that adorned her hair.
Elena let out a loud cry of pain, not because of the blow or her hair being almost torn off, but because she was stripped of that butterfly-shaped brooch.

Richell let out a loud laugh full of malice and mocked Elena by throwing that simple brooch at one wall of the room. That violet butterfly brooch was a treasure to Elena, and Richell was aware of this.

Richell's thunderous laughter of malice stopped once he saw a sudden change in Elena's expression. Elena´s face went from crying to coldness expression and then to mockery.

Before Richell could react, Elena became hundreds of violet butterflies that dispersed throughout the room in front of his stunned and confused gaze.

“It's unfortunate to discover that in these three years, you didn't stop being a useless piece of garbage”

A voice full of coldness resonated behind Richell's back. His body strained and was cover with cold sweat.

Richell quickly stood up and turned to face the owner of that voice.

Richell's eyes opened completely. Standing there was Elena, but not the helpless girl he had tried to rape, but a three years older Elena, one-hundred times more beautiful Elena, who wore a beautiful mytril armor adorned with beautiful angel feathers.

Those violet eyes that had previously shown Richell panic and terror now showed him a deep coldness that freezes his blood.

Elena held a beautiful mytril sword from which a good amount of blood was flowed, and before Richell tried to understand what was happening, he watched as those violet eyes moved to his waist as a mocking smile took shape over Elena's lips.

Instinctively Richell looked down and was surprised to see himself totally naked, yet his surprise turned to horror at the sight of his blood-soaked crotch.

“No!!!”

A dreadful cry laden with terror emerged from Richell's throat. His eyes opened abruptly and his fearful gaze stared at his surroundings in search of that figure.

“That dream again...”

Richell quickly came to that conclusion by realizing that he was in a simple room that did not reflect at all his noble status. His breathing was hectic, his skin was drenched in sweat and his expression reflected no relief at discovering that it was just a nightmare.

Richell's gaze moved to his waist. Under the sheets was hidden the great truth, that horrific vision of his nightmare about his blood-drenched crotch was not a lie, and nor was a lie he had tried to rape Elena.

During that event, when Richell tried to rape Elena, the girl pulled out a hidden dagger and pushed it against Richell's crotch. That led to a situation where Richell had to be stripped of his manhood to save his life.

Richell's body trembled, his fists closed tightly. Richell deeply hated Elena for ruining his life in this way, however, because of recent events, he was now also afraid of her, and that nightmare had become recurrent since he saw Elena again.

She could use rune magic, was surrounded by powerful soldiers, and was admired by the commoners. For Richell, the reality was perhaps much worse than that nightmare.

“That fucking bitch...!!”

Richell was full of frustration, his hatred of Elena was irreconcilable, but now she was much stronger than him, and what outraged him most was that his father had left with her after handing over his Marquis title to his younger brother, Darrel.

It was true that Richell himself had ruled out himself as heir to the Lutrel Family. He could not have his own children, if Richell took the title of Marquis and then inherited him to Darrel's children, the Lutrel family would become Varest's laughingstock.

However, despite knowing that his decision had been right, deep down in his soul Richell was extremely frustrated. He had prepared to become Marquis from a young age; he had strived not to be overwhelmed by Darrel's talent, and now yet all that effort had no meaning.

Having recovered from that mortal wound he received from Elena, Richell was vigorously rebuked by both his father and his mother. His older sister Marla distanced himself from him and although to a lesser extent, Darrel did the same. In deciding to abandon his position as heir, Richell believed that things would be the way before, but nothing changed. His situation remained and he quickly was avoided even by the servants, while other nobles mocked him behind his back.

Now that Darrel had finally taken the title of Marquis, Richell could not feel happy for his younger brother. Instead, he felt a grudge against him and the rest of his family. All of them had turned their backs on him after he tried to protect his family from the disgraceful existence of a bastard who bearing the proud name Lutrel, but at the end, his father followed that bastard girl, his younger brother took what he was entitled to, his older sister continued to keep away from him, and his mother had let him pay attention. She no longer pressured him to work hard in his studies or fencing, nor did she worry about anything he did.

The hate was corroding Richell from the bottom of his soul.

“Uhm…”

Richell came back to reality upon hearing someone let out a slight murmur.

As he carried his gaze to his side, Richell observed a young man sleeping placidly beside him. The young man's lips showed a simple smile full of satisfaction, and this only made Richell's wrath grow even more when he recalled the smile Elena showed him in that nightmare. His whole life had been ruined by that bastard girl, and instead of understanding and supporting his tragedy, what Richell received from his family was indifference and coldness.

Blinded by those dark feelings, Richell extended his arms to the neck of that young man who slept peacefully. His hands closed tightly over the young man's thin neck and the young man opened his eyes abruptly.

The young man's eyes showed terror, his hands and legs moved to try resist, but no matter how much he hit his attacker's bare chest, his aggressor continued to strangle his neck without pity while the face of his aggressor showed a twisted expression of hate.

In Richell's eyes, the reflection of the one he was strangling was not Elena, Darrel, or any other member of his family, but himself.

"Ri..."

The young man even hit Richell's face, but at the end, all his effort was futile, the lack of air caused him to lose strength and after several seconds of trying to resist, his body stopped moving and his eyes showed the emptied of death.

For Richell it didn't matter that the young man had already died. He continued to strangle the young man until his hands were stained with the blood that emerged from the young man's lifeless lips. Richell had strangled the young man until to cause his veins to burst.

Richell turned away from the young man and stood to take several steps away from the bed as his gaze traveled between his bloodied hands and the young man's lifeless body. Richell's gaze reflected dismay.

That young man was a stableboy, one of those in charge of the care of the stables of the Lutrel Knights, someone insignificant from the perspective of an arrogant nobleman.

The son of a simple slave and a ruined merchant who used to offer his personal slaves to his associates as entertainment. This young man had left behind that kind of life once the former Marquis Lutrel Armand and Harlan discovered that his father was a drug dealer banned by the laws of the kingdom. For Richell, that young man was the only person who had kept him company in recent years, the only person who tried to comfort and understand him, and now, blinded by hate, he had murdered that young man with his bare hands.

“Hahahaha!!”

A dreadful laugh tinged with madness emerged from Richell's throat and his eyes shed a sea of tears.

The place was the room of an old tavern without registration in the slums of the city, a place where that young man named Seldis and Richell met frequently in secret to keep each other company.