Paigos despite his confidence was still utterly enraged by Cain's behavior. How dare an inferior brat like him try to stand up to him. So what if he was more 'handsome' than him, looks did not translate to combat ability.

He had no doubts that in a one on one duel he could completely crush Cain. He may have awakened that new teleport skill when Julia and that dead brat left his brother for dead in the dungeon but that was a support skill at best.

That sort of skill would have no effect on his attack power. Paigos prided himself on two things: His overwhelming power and his indomitable defense. No matter how Cain tried to hit him, his blades wouldn't even break his skin, even more so after he had taken that Tyrant skill from the Vice Principal.

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down, white steam escaped from his lips as the violent urges that always tugged at the corners of his mind became even stronger instead of receding like usual.

He wanted to break something. No. He needed to break something. Now!

Paigos clenched his fists as the pressure in his chest grew unbearable. He could feel the Tyrant skill gnawing at his mind, feeding his aggression and demanding release. His vision sharpened, colors turning vivid and sharp as if the world itself was daring him to strike. His heartbeat pounded like a war drum and each breath came out heavier, harsher. He stood in the quiet corridor outside the cafeteria, his knuckles cracking loudly as his nails dug into his palms.

Cain's smug face flashed in his mind and Paigos ground his teeth so hard he thought they might splinter. That brat had stood in front of him without bowing, without trembling, as though they were equals. Worse, Cain had made him hesitate. That single moment of weakness had been seen by others. He had heard the whispers in the cafeteria even as he left. People were murmuring. Doubts were forming. And Paigos could not allow that.

A Tyrant did not tolerate disrespect. A Tyrant crushed it.

He slammed his fist into the wall beside him. The stone cracked with a sharp sound that reverberated down the hall. Dust sprinkled over his arm. The sting of impact was nothing compared to the thrill that coursed through his veins. He wanted more. The urge to destroy swelled inside him until it felt like he might explode.

His mind spun through possibilities. He could storm back into the cafeteria, drag Cain out by the collar, and show everyone how powerless the brat truly was. But that would be too quick, too clean. It would not be enough to satisfy him. Cain had humiliated him in front of others. To undo that insult, Paigos needed something grander.

The students still lingering in the hallway glanced at him nervously before quickly scattering. None dared approach. He almost grabbed one of them just to hear a bone snap, but restrained himself with effort. No. That would be wasteful. He had to focus his rage into something useful.

The Tyrant skill pulsed in his body like molten fire. It was more than raw strength. It magnified his instincts for domination. It wanted him to climb higher, to trample others beneath his heel, to carve his place as the strongest without question. He needed a target worthy of that fury. Cain had painted a bullseye on himself the moment he dared to defy him.

Paigos began walking, each step heavy, purposeful. He made his way toward his personal training ground. His breath still came out in wisps of white steam as if his body could not contain the heat boiling within. Students who had sworn fealty to him and granted access to this place were training nearby but immediately halted and stepped back when they saw him enter. The clatter of wooden practice weapons fell silent. Eyes followed him, wide with unease as they saluted him as if he were already their king.

Paigos's eyes scanned the group of students who had frozen in place when he entered. Their fear was almost sweet, but one of them drew his gaze more than the others. A boy with stark white hair stood at the edge of the circle, clutching his wooden blade so tightly his knuckles had gone pale.

The sight alone ignited something ugly inside Paigos. That hair. It was not the same, not even close, yet the faint resemblance clawed at his thoughts. His bastard brother's ghost lingered in those pale strands, and Paigos felt his blood begin to boil all over again.

"You," Paigos said, his voice low but sharp as a blade. He pointed directly at the boy. "We are sparring."

The words dropped like a guillotine. Murmurs rippled through the other students, and several stepped back instinctively as if trying to distance themselves from the chosen victim. The boy's eyes widened. His wooden sword clattered to the ground, his lips trembling as he tried to form words.

"My Lord, I… I cannot. I am late for class," the boy stammered, bowing his head quickly. His white hair fell across his eyes as he tried to avoid Paigos's gaze.

Paigos's lips curled into a smile that showed too many teeth. His voice came out calm, smooth, almost gentle. "If you walk away from me now, I will kill you. Right here."

The boy froze. His chest heaved as if he were already struggling to breathe. Paigos took a slow step forward, and the circle of students widened, none daring to interfere.

"I will go easy on you," Paigos continued, his tone almost cheerful. "I will not even use a weapon. Come. Prove your worth to me."

The boy shook his head frantically, but he could see there was no way out. The others had already stepped back, forming a silent wall around them. He swallowed hard, bent to pick up his practice blade with trembling hands, and forced himself into a stance. His movements were jerky, his grip slick with sweat.

"Good," Paigos said with mock approval. "That is the spirit."

But the moment the spar began, all pretense vanished. Paigos's cordial smile melted into something savage. He lunged forward with unnatural speed, his fist slamming into the boy's stomach like a battering ram.

The boy's feet lifted off the ground as the impact sent a shockwave through his body. His eyes bulged and a spray of bile and spit burst from his mouth. He gagged violently, his body convulsing.

Before he could even fall, Paigos's massive hand clamped around his face. The boy's muffled scream was cut short as Paigos drove him headfirst into the stone floor. The crack of impact echoed across the training ground, silencing every breath. Dust and fragments of stone sprayed outward.

Then the beating began.

Paigos straddled the broken boy and unleashed his fists like hammers. Each strike sent blood spattering across the ground, across his own face, across the circle of terrified onlookers. The boy's arms flailed weakly at first, trying to shield himself, but Paigos batted them aside as though swatting insects. His fists pounded into flesh and bone, each strike accompanied by the sickening crunch of something giving way.

The boy's nose collapsed. His teeth shattered. His pale hair grew streaked and matted with blood as his head jerked back and forth from the relentless blows.

The other students did not move. They couldn't. Their legs shook, their breaths came shallow, but none dared to step forward. Their Lord was showing them what happened when his will was defied. Any thought of mercy died the moment Paigos began his assault.

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