MTLNOVEL Chapter 152: Would You Love Me If I Was A Worm?
The carriage rolled smoothly along the winding road, its wheels humming a soft rhythm against the packed earth. Cassius leaned back in his seat, one arm resting casually on the window's edge, his crimson eyes fixed on the rolling fields stretching out beyond.
The distant hills bloomed with wildflowers, their colors vivid against the golden afternoon light, and a grand house stood nestled among them, its white walls gleaming like a beacon of quiet luxury.
He let out a contented sigh, his mind drifting as he took in the serene beauty of it all—until a prickle of unease tugged at him and in response he turned his head, catching Lucius staring at him from the opposite seat, his butler's face alight with a reverent, almost worshipful gaze, as if Cassius were some masterpiece hung in a gallery.
Cassius's brow furrowed, a scowl creeping across his face. "Oi, Lucius, what's with that look?" He demanded, his voice sharp with irritation. "You're gawking at me like I'm some damn painting. It's creeping me out...cut it out."
Lucius blinked, then leaned forward, his expression bursting into an exaggerated flourish of adoration, his hands clasping dramatically over his chest.
"Oh, Young Master, how could I not stare?" He declared, his voice dripping with theatrical fervor. "You're simply too handsome—too radiant! The way the sunlight catches your profile, the strength in your jaw, those crimson eyes that burn like embers—I can't tear my gaze away!"
"...You're prettier than the mountains out there, more captivating than any field or flower. I could watch you all day, every day, and never tire of it!"
Cassius's scowl deepened, his hand twitching as if tempted to swat the butler.
"What the hell, Lucius? Why're you wasting lines like that on me?" He snapped, leaning forward to jab a finger at him. "With that pretty face of yours and all that poetic nonsense, you could charm any girl you wanted—hell, half the town'd be tripping over themselves for you. Go use it on someone who'd appreciate it, not your damn master."
Lucius shook his head vehemently, his expression resolute, almost comically serious as he crossed his arms.
"No, no, no, Young Master." He said, his tone firm but tinged with a strange, earnest devotion. "I don't care about girls or boys, or anyone else, for that matter. No gender, no person, nothing in this world holds a candle to you. My heart, my loyalty it's all for my Master, and only you."
"...No one else could ever compare."
Hearing this, Cassius smirked, a glint of mischief sparking in his eyes as he leaned back, crossing his arms with a challenging air.
"Oh yeah? Alright, let's test that." He said, his voice sly. "Age-old question, Lucius—if I was a worm, just a slimy little thing wriggling in the dirt, would you still feel the same? Still be all starry-eyed over me?"
He expected a stammer, a pause, maybe a flustered dodge. But to his utter shock, Lucius's face lit up, his eyes gleaming with an almost manic enthusiasm as he clapped his hands together.
"A worm?! Oh, Young Master, even if you were a worm, I'd care for you with my utmost duty!" He exclaimed, his voice rising with absurd sincerity. "I'd build you a tiny little home—carve it out of the finest wood, with a soft bed of moss for your wriggly form to rest on."
"I'd gather the juiciest bits of leaves, the sweetest drops of dew, all cut to worm-sized portions for you to nibble! I'd carry you in a little velvet pouch, keep you safe from birds, and if you wanted to explore, I'd clear a path in the dirt myself—anything you desired, I'd make it happen, worm or not!"
Cassius stared, his mouth twitching as he rubbed his forehead, a groan escaping him.
"Ahh, why haven't I replaced this damn butler yet?"
He muttered, half to himself, his voice laced with exasperation as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Why?...Well, because I'm irreplaceable, Master, and you know it."
Lucius grinned, undeterred, leaning forward with a smug tilt of his head.
"I'm too good at my job...no one else could handle your affairs like I do. The assignments, the schedules, the messages, the...delicate situations." He winked, a playful jab at his master's affairs with women. "I take care of it all. You barely lift a finger, and I make sure every minor problem vanishes before it reaches you."
"...Who else could match that? No one, that's who."
Cassius couldn't argue, not really. Lucius was a flawless butler, a machine of efficiency who ran his life like a well-oiled clock.
From managing the estate to smoothing over scandals, Lucius handled it all, leaving Cassius free to do...Well, whatever he pleased.
But admitting that out loud? That'd inflate the man's ego to unbearable heights, and Lucius was already insufferable enough. So he leaned back, smirking as he waved a hand dismissively.
"Keep telling yourself that." He said, his tone dry. "If I looked hard enough, I'd find someone better someone who doesn't stare at me like a lovesick puppy or ramble about worm houses."
Lucius gasped, clutching his chest as if wounded, his voice rising in mock outrage.
"Better than me?! Impossible, Young Master! There's no butler in the entire world who could outshine me—not one!"
He paused, his expression shifting to a thoughtful frown as he tapped his chin.
"Well...Maybe if there's anyone who comes close it's Wayne, the Patriarch's right-hand man. I'll admit, he's exceptional. His precision, his foresight, the way he anticipates every need—truly a master of the craft. Even I have to respect that."
"Wayne, huh? High praise coming from you." Cassius raised a brow, intrigued despite himself.
Lucius's lips curved into a wry smile, a flicker of something sharper in his eyes.
"Oh, he's good—damn good. But he served the wrong master in the end, didn't he? Led to his downfall, tied his fate to the Patriarch's."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a murmur.
"You outplayed them both, Master—subjugated your father, brought Wayne to heel. And a butler's supposed to go down with his master, no matter what. It's only natural."
His gaze softened, a quiet vow in his words.
"...And I'd do the same for you—without a second thought."
Cassius's smirk faded, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face as he processed Lucius's loyalty—so unwavering, so absolute. He cleared his throat, shifting the topic before it got too heavy.
"Speaking of my father and Wayne..." He said, his tone casual but probing. "How're they doing? Wayne managing him alright?"
Lucius straightened, slipping back into his efficient butler mode with a nod.
"Oh, impeccably, as expected." He said, his voice crisp. "Wayne's following your orders to the letter—shadowing the Patriarch everywhere, not letting him out of sight. From the reports he sends—daily, mind you, not a single one missed—he's so thorough it's almost comical."
"...Follows him to the study, the gardens, even the bathroom, just in case. Says it's to ensure 'no incidents.' The man's a machine, Master, exactly why you put him there."
Cassius chuckled, a low, amused sound as he leaned back, crossing his arms.
"Good. Knew he'd be perfect for it. Wayne's got no room for error—keeps Father on a tight leash, just like I wanted...But what about the old man himself? He giving Wayne any trouble?"
Lucius shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Not at all, from what Wayne reports. The Patriarch's...subdued, I'd say. Spends most of his time at the late lady's grave—hours every day, just standing there. Doesn't cause a fuss, doesn't argue. It's like he's...reflecting, maybe."
Cassius's brow arched, a sarcastic edge to his voice as he laughed.
"Reflecting? What, he regretting his choices already? Begging forgiveness from Mother's ghost?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, his eyes glinting with curiosity. "What exactly does he do out there—cry, pray, what?"
Lucius shrugged, his tone neutral but thoughtful.
"Hard to say, Master. Wayne's reports don't go into that—he just notes the time spent, the location. Says the Patriarch stands by the tomb, silent as stone, all day sometimes. Doesn't speak, doesn't move much. Could be regret, could be grief—could be he's just lost in his head. Wayne doesn't pry, just watches."
Cassius nodded, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he turned back to the window, the fields rolling by in a blur of green and gold.
"Let him stew, then." He said, his voice low, almost to himself. "If he's groveling to Mother's grave, that's his business. As long as Wayne's got him handled, I'm good."
Lucius sat back, his hands folded neatly in his lap as the carriage swayed gently, his mind lingering on Cassius's words about the Patriarch and Wayne.
A thoughtful frown creased his brow for a moment, and then he leaned forward, his voice softer but brimming with conviction as he addressed his master.
"You know, Master, when I said Wayne's loyalty led to his downfall, I...might've misspoken." He admitted, his tone thoughtful. "It's not quite true, is it?"
"...His greatest wish—his only wish, really was to heal his daughter. Poor girl's been ill for years, wasting away, and no doctor, no matter how skilled, could do a thing for her. Drove him to despair and you could see it in his eyes."
Cassius raised a brow, his smirk fading slightly as he turned from the window, intrigued. "Oh? Getting sentimental on me, Lucius? What's your point?"
Lucius leaned forward, his hands clasped, his voice earnest as he continued.
"My point, Young Master, is that Wayne's situation, being subjugated by you, bound to shadow the Patriarch under your orders it's actually worked out for him, hasn't it because of you?"
"You not only pardoned him for his part in your father's schemes—no small thing, mind you, considering how deep he was in it. You went further. You've been visiting his daughter these past weeks, treating her yourself, working your...gifts to bring her back from the brink."
"...And she's recovering, Young Master—color in her cheeks, a spark in her eyes again, just like you had promised. So, he got the most out of this, didn't he? His daughter's life, his heart's only desire, all because of your mercy."
Cassius's gaze sharpened, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face as he listened. Lucius pressed on, his voice swelling with pride, his eyes gleaming with devotion.
"I'm so proud to serve you, Young Master—a man so merciful he'd help the daughter of an enemy, give her back her health when no one else could. Who else would do that?...No one I've ever known."
"You're not just strong, not just cunning—you've got a heart that bends even for those who stood against you. There's no master as great as you, no one half as generous."
Cassius's lips curled into a slow, almost lazy smile, but there was a glint in his eyes that belied the warmth of Lucius's words.
"Merciful, huh? That's what you think this is?"
He said, his tone light but edged with something darker.
"Don't get it twisted, Lucius. I'm not some saint doing charity. I'm using Wayne's weakness—his daughter to keep him in line, keep my father on a leash. That's all it is. A tool, a lever."
"...I also don't really give a damn about Wayne himself—never did since he too didn't really like how I was being treated and tried to persuade my father against it all the time, but failed every time so he's not exactly someone I absolutely despise."
Lucius blinked, tilting his head as he processed this, but Cassius wasn't done. His smile twisted, taking on a wicked, almost predatory edge as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.
"But you're right about one thing—he's not getting off easy. Nobody does. Even mercy's got a price, Lucius. Especially since I'm the only true devotee of the Goddess of Debauchery—my job's to spread depravity wherever I go...even down paths that look 'kindness'."
"...So in the end, Wayne will pay for what he did, one way or another."
Lucius frowned, confusion flickering across his face, his voice hesitant. "Depravity...in mercy? I don't follow, Master. What do you mean by that? You're healing his daughter, how's that—"
Before he could finish, the carriage driver's voice cut through, a crisp announcement that jolted them both.
"We've arrived, my lord—Master Wayne's mansion, just ahead."
Hearing this, assius's smile widened, a dark, knowing gleam in his eyes as he straightened, his gaze flicking to the window where the elegant sprawl of Wayne's estate came into view—white stone columns, manicured gardens, a picture of quiet wealth.
"Perfect timing..." He said, his voice smooth but laced with a chilling intent. "Wayne'll pay, alright—but he won't be the one to pay...Not directly as I've grown...fond of his wife. And his daughter, too, now that she's up and about."
"...They're sweet, Lucius—real sweet, so I think I'll take what's owed from them instead."
Lucius's breath caught, his eyes widening as he caught the look on Cassius's face—a hunter's stare, hungry and unrelenting, like he was about to feast on a baby fawn and it's mother.
He knew that look, knew it meant trouble, the kind that left hearts racing and lives upended.
"Master..." He started, his voice low, a rare note of unease threading through it. "You mean to—"
Cassius was already moving, swinging the carriage door open with a fluid grace as he stepped out, his boots hitting the gravel with a soft crunch.
"Don't worry about it, Lucious." He called over his shoulder, his tone deceptively light as he stretched, twisting his shoulders like a man preparing for a hunt. "Just do your job and follow my lead, same as always."
"...And whatever happens, you're with me, right?"
Lucius hesitated, his hands tightening briefly in his lap as he watched Cassius stride toward the mansion, the late afternoon sun casting his shadow long and sharp across the path.
He felt a twinge of pity for Wayne's wife, so smart and kind, always offering tea when they visited; also for the daughter, barely recovered, her laughter still fragile but growing stronger each day.
They had no idea what was coming, no defense against the storm that was Cassius when he set his sights on a target.
But Lucius's loyalty was ironclad, his role clear.
He was Cassius's butler, his shadow, his executor of whims—no matter how depraved, no matter the cost.
So, with a quiet sigh, he adjusted his glasses and stepped out of the carriage, his polished shoes gleaming as he fell into step behind his master.
"As you say, Young Master..." He murmured, his voice steady despite the flicker of unease in his chest. "I'm with you...always. Whatever you need...It's done."
Cassius shot him a sidelong glance, his grin evil and unyielding.
"That's my Lucius." He said, as he clapped a hand on the butler's shoulder. "Stick close as it's going to be a fun visit. Wayne's family's about to learn what it means to owe me."
He chuckled, a dark sound that promised chaos, and strode forward, the mansion looming like a stage set for his next act of debauchery, Lucius trailing faithfully behind, ready to serve—no matter what depravity lay ahead...