Rodrick froze, the sword in his hand trembling as Cassius's absurd words sank in. Then, a harsh, barking laugh erupted from his throat, his head tipping back as the sound filled the study with a manic edge.
"Yours?!" He bellowed, his laughter teetering on the brink of hysteria. "You think everything belongs to you? I've gone half-mad with hatred these past years—I'll give you that...But have you lost your mind too, boy? You've got nothing!"
"...That pitiful little mansion I tossed you out of pity—that's all you have! You dare stand there and claim the Holyfield Estate the richest, most powerful seat on the continent—as yours? You're delusional!"
Wayne, still clutching his sword, stared at Cassius in bewilderment, his mind reeling. The Young Master's declaration was absurd...ludicrous, even.
The Holyfield Estate wasn't just land; it was a legacy, a fortress of wealth and influence that dwarfed anything Cassius could hope to command.
