"So, this is the same useless Young Master who's been missing for days," one of the guards said without hesitation.His voice carried mockery, bold and sharp.
He dared to speak that way for two reasons — first, the current Young Master, Rajesh, stood behind him; and second, he knew Ishan had once been poisoned. Once the pride of the Singhaniya Family, the heir's martial power had crumbled; he couldn't even practice basic arts anymore.
To them, Ishan was nothing more than a fallen noble — a powerless man with a forgotten name.
But the fury that rose within him now wasn't the quiet anger of humiliation — it was the burning wrath buried deep in the soul of the old Ishan, the one whose pride had been shattered, the one betrayed by his own blood.And now that fury was his — completely his.
He looked up at the sneering guard, his voice steady but cold enough to slice stone."Tell me," he said, "which master gave his dog permission to bite whoever he pleases? A beast like that should be put down — for the good of society."
The words struck like thunder.The guard froze, disbelief in his eyes. He had insulted this "trash" many times before, and Ishan had always stayed silent — defeated, humiliated.But today… today he spoke with the calmness of a storm waiting to break.
The guard's heart trembled.Something had changed.Something dangerous.
Still, pride won over instinct."You… you dare talk back to me, you useless worm?!" he roared. "You think you're still the Young Master? I'll make you see stars, I swear on my name— Rais!"
Ishan tilted his head slightly, smiling faintly. "Heh… If I walk away from here alive today, my name isn't this and than, and I am not a Singhaniya! right."He laughed — that cold, unhinged laughter that made even the fearless hesitate.
For a moment, the two guards looked at each other. Had their Young Master finally gone mad?Before they could decide, Rais charged forward, his fist glowing faintly as his body moved in a trained motion.
Ishan didn't even flinch.He caught the punch effortlessly mid-air.
"Was it this hand," Ishan asked softly, "that slapped Rajiv?"
He twisted the guard's wrist slightly — so slightly — and a scream tore through the air.Bones cracked like dry wood. The pain was so sharp that Rais's eyes went blood-red as sweat drenched his face.
Ishan released his grip. The man collapsed instantly, clutching his ruined arm, gasping in agony.
Ishan stepped closer and pressed his foot on Rais's leg."And this leg," he murmured, "was it the one that struck Rajiv?"
The fallen guard cried out, trembling. "Young Master, please! Forgive me! I beg for my life!"
Ishan smiled coldly."So, you do know who I am. According to the Singhaniya Family's Rule 7.8, anyone who dares strike a Young Master is to be crippled and cast out. Tell me — what punishment should I give you?"
"Y-Young Master, I… I did it under Rajesh's orders!" Rais sobbed. "If I refused, my family would starve… please, I did it for them!"
Hearing this, Ishan chuckled — not in pity, but irony."For your family, huh? Then tell me — your master told you to do this or did he tell you to show your arrogance every where? You nearly killed him and now you are saying that you didn't want to do that. Remember this — I am neither a saint nor a devil. I merely repay what I receive — ten thousandfold."
He pressed down. The man's leg shattered. The scream echoed through the courtyard like a dying animal's cry.
The second guard, terrified, dropped to his knees immediately.Ishan looked down at the unconscious Rais and spoke without emotion."Go tell your master's master to come out. If he doesn't, I'll hang his pet right here by the gate. And as for you — don't come to work tomorrow. Cowards like you aren't worthy to serve this family."
The Singhaniya Family — once a symbol of unshakable pride — had grown complacent over generations.What the world called arrogance was born from centuries of unmatched dominance and fearlessness.But when integrity vanished from their blood, that fearlessness turned into reckless pride.
Still, none dared provoke them. Even the sons of kings avoided their wrath, for when a Singhaniya struck, it was always to kill.
That guard had violated the family's code, and Ishan had made his example.Carrying the wounded Rajiv on his back, he made his way to the mountain residence — a secluded place he himself had chosen, far from the politics of the western manor.
The Singhaniya territory spanned a five-kilometre circular valley.At its centre lay the Martial Practice Grounds — vast fields where warriors honed their arts.To the west, under the foothills, stood the main residence — where the patriarch and high officials lived.To the north were the quarters for the children, apprentices, and lower-ranking families.No one was allowed to bring their families into the inner officials' area.
Ishan's hut stood at the mountain's peak — a place of peace and birdsong, far above the noise below.
The eastern gate served as the family's main entrance, while the southern quarter housed the Grand Elders' offices, the Martial Pavilion, Testing Grounds, and various administrative halls.
Ishan laid Rajiv gently on his bed, fetched some herbs from a wooden shelf, and began treating his wounds.He promised himself he'd craft a proper elixir later.
While he worked in silence, across the main mansion — within the council chambers — two figures listened to a trembling guard's report.
A middle-aged man and a young noble.The young one — Rajesh — slammed his fist on the table. "That useless cripple dared call my men dogs?!"
"Calm down," the older man said, his voice measured but tense. "I don't understand how he's even alive after that poison. Whatever happens, this must not reach the Grand Elder's ears."
That man was Rajveer Singhaniya — Ishan's uncle.It was he who had orchestrated Ishan's poisoning, carefully planning every step.And though he'd thought the deed done, the news of Ishan's survival lit a storm inside him.
Still, Rajveer wasn't a man ruled by rage. He had survived the family's deadly politics through patience and precision.
As the two schemed, a faint shadow stood hidden behind a nearby wall — listening.When the conversation ended, the shadow slipped away silently into the dark.
Meanwhile, Ishan searched the mountain for herbs to stabilize Rajiv's condition.The old Ishan had often gathered medicines from these slopes, so he knew the terrain well.After nearly an hour of climbing, he found what he needed — a rare herb glowing faintly under the sun.
"Perfect," he whispered.He gathered the plants, hurried back, crushed and mixed them into a simple medicine, and fed it to Rajiv.
Then he waited.Two hours passed before Rajiv finally stirred.He blinked at the familiar surroundings.
"Is… is this heaven?" he murmured weakly. "It looks exactly like my room and the Young Master's chamber."
Ishan smiled faintly.
Rajiv's gaze shifted, and tears welled in his eyes."Y-Young Master! You're alive? Forgive me! I failed to protect you. I deserve hell!"
"Hell can wait," Ishan said, lightly tapping his head. "Can't you see? I'm still alive. And this is our room."
Rajiv looked around, stunned. "Then… we really survived?"
"Of course."
Tears finally spilled from Rajiv's eyes."Young Master, I thought I lost you forever. Promise me you'll never disappear like that again."
Ishan sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Fine, I promise. Now stop crying like a child."
They had grown up together — brothers not by blood, but by bond.
"Rest now," Ishan said softly. "I have some unfinished matters to settle."
Rajiv, still weak, looked worried. "But Young Master… that man, Rajveer, he—"
Ishan raised a hand, cutting him off."Don't worry. Just rest. I'll be back soon."
With that, he stepped out of the hut, his silhouette fading into the descending dusk — the first spark of vengeance burning quietly in his eyes.