Free Web NovelChapter 4: Chapter 4: The Necessary Mask
Chapter 4: The Necessary Mask
The decision came to Andras with the certainty of a falling stone.
He would punish her.
It wasn’t because of the broken tray, the spilled water, or the shattered glass scattered across the floor. Those things were insignificant.
The punishment itself was necessary.
Cold.
Calculated.
First, he needed to maintain the act.
The original Andras had been a tyrant—a cruel young master who took pleasure in tormenting those weaker than himself.
If Andras suddenly became kind, patient, or understanding, people would notice.
The maids would notice.
Lyra would notice.
And once they began asking why the young master who had been unconscious for days had returned as a completely different person, suspicion would follow.
Suspicion led to questions.
Questions led to danger.
That was a risk he could not afford.
Second—and far more importantly—this was an opportunity to test the system.
He had already absorbed the original owner’s talent, but the Devouring System’s second function remained largely unknown to him.
The ability to acquire talents through physical intimacy.
This was the perfect chance to verify whether it truly worked.
"So," Andras said.
His voice was low and cold, devoid of any warmth.
"You understand your mistake."
He didn’t wait for an answer.
Slowly rising from the bed, he fixed his gaze on Lyra.
"I am not someone who overlooks mistakes," he said calmly. "And you will be punished for yours."
Lyra’s breathing became uneven.
Her eyes darted between Andras and the shattered tray on the floor.
Fear was written clearly across her face.
Not merely fear of punishment.
Fear of the unknown.
What would he do this time?
Would he strike her?
Lock her away?
Humiliate her?
The uncertainty weighed on her more heavily than any punishment itself.
Silence stretched between them.
The room felt colder with every passing second.
Finally, Lyra lowered her gaze and spoke.
"Since I have made a mistake," she whispered, "the Young Master may punish me however he wishes."
Andras studied her for several moments before speaking again.
"Your punishment," he said evenly, "is to serve me tonight."
Lyra froze.
"And while you do," he continued, "you will ask for forgiveness properly. Only then will I decide whether you deserve it."
The words lingered in the air.
Heavy.
Unsettling.
Lyra’s face immediately flushed red.
A deep crimson spread across her cheeks as her eyes widened.
For a brief moment, she searched his expression, hoping to find some sign that he was joking.
There was none.
Only cold certainty.
"Young Master..." she stammered. "You shouldn’t... you shouldn’t treat me like that just because I made a mistake."
Yet even as she spoke, her thoughts were in complete disarray.
She looked at him—truly looked at him.
And despite her fear, a faint warmth stirred within her heart.
She remembered the boy he had once been.
Kind.
Gentle.
The only person who had ever treated her as more than an orphan servant.
That boy had changed.
Years ago.
Yet the memory remained.
And so did her feelings.
She loved him.
A foolish love she had buried beneath years of mistreatment, fear, and disappointment.
A love she never dared reveal.
If anyone discovered it, they would mock her.
They would claim she sought status.
That she wished to rise above her station.
So she kept those feelings hidden deep within her heart.
Hidden so well that sometimes even she struggled to understand them.
Andras’s expression hardened.
"It is your duty to obey my orders," he said coldly, "not tell me what I should or should not do."
He took a step closer.
His pale eyes locked onto hers.
"The thing I hate most," he continued quietly, "is someone trying to tell me what I can and cannot do."
A brief pause followed.
"If you do it again..."
His voice became even colder.
"I will kill you."
Lyra flinched as though struck.
The threat carried no anger.
No emotion.
That was what made it frightening.
It sounded like a simple statement of fact.
Her body stiffened immediately.
"I... I understand, Young Master."
Andras held her gaze for a moment before nodding.
"Good."
The room fell silent once more.
Only the distant wind brushing against the mansion windows could be heard.
And within that silence, Andras’s attention shifted inward.
"System," he thought calmly.
"If I use your second function, will the target lose their talent?"
The familiar blue interface appeared before his eyes.
[Ding!]
[Host, the target will not lose their talent.]
[The host acquires a copy of the talent while the original remains intact.]
A faint smile touched Andras’s lips.
Perfect.
Not because he cared about preserving her strength.
But because disappearing talents would create questions.
And questions created attention.
Attention was dangerous.
For now, the Devouring System needed to remain hidden.
As long as possible.
With that thought, he dismissed the screen.
His gaze settled on Lyra once more.
Fear remained in her eyes.
So did something else.
Something softer.
Something she was trying desperately to conceal.
Andras noticed it.
But for the moment, he chose not to comment.
Some things were more useful when left unspoken.
