Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System-Chapter 101: A Choice Between Brothers

A Choice Between Brothers

Julian couldn’t help laughing—sharp, bitter, disbelieving—as Evan’s killing intent locked onto him like a blade at his throat.

(Damn it, you useless piece of trash, what does this have to do with me!)

(You had your chance and blew it. How can you blame me?)

(I don’t even want to show off! I just want to be a quiet, handsome guy!)

The sound faded fast. Midway it cracked, slipping into a hush that felt sharp.

Out came Julian’s breath, a slow leak, maybe hinting at boredom. Just barely.

Light caught his gold-colored eyes, narrowing slightly like something shifted beneath the surface. Yet everything else about him stayed open - the set of his shoulders, the way he stood, the slow angle of his chin. Unbothered, almost too much so.

Too careless.

A shelter stood firm, so he stayed beneath it. Lightning split the sky - his eyes fixed on what rain could reach. Trust sat heavy in his chest, even as wind shook the beams overhead.

Facing him, Evan held his gaze without a flicker.

His grip tightened.

Movement tore through Mike Valquin when Evan pressed harder into his windpipe. A raw, grating noise escaped - less breath, more like rust tearing across stone. His boots skidded on smooth marble, feet searching, scrabbling, finding nothing solid beneath. Kicks flared upward, desperate, unanchored, meeting only open air.

"Hey... D’Aurelius..."

A sound scraped from Evan’s throat, raw as if worn down by stone. His chin shifted a fraction, gaze fastened on Julian, carrying more than rage - this cut deeper.

"I’ll give you a choice today."

Up went Mike, an inch more, pressure tightening his breath, eyes wide, silence falling heavy on the crowd around them.

The boy named Valquin must die... that was what came out of his mouth, slow like stones dropping into still water... otherwise it will be you who fills his space.

A hush fell, sharp as steel cutting air. Silence arrived, cold and sudden, slicing through sound.

Pausing, even the breeze held its breath.

For a moment, Julian stayed quiet. Then silence stretched between them like something solid.

One look went past Evan, landed on Mike instead. Red flushed across the kid’s skin, sudden and harsh. Veins rose like wires down his throat. His eyes - too big, seeing nothing. Fear poured off him. Not loud. Just desperate. Begging without sound.

Back at Evan went Julian’s gaze then.

A hint of a smile touched his mouth again, barely there, like he knew something quiet.

This insidious bastard.

It was bound to happen, really. The moment stretched thin, then snapped into what we always knew it would become.

Wrong moments always seemed to find Evan, somehow. Into every scene he’d walk, off-kilter timing like a glitch that bent what was stable. Plans cracked when he arrived, quietly undone by his presence. Chaos followed close behind, sticky as sap on skin. A thorn lodged deep - that stayed despite effort after effort to free it.

A quiet click of Julian’s tongue escaped - irritation, not fear, shaping the sound.

If justice slipped through his fingers now, what right had he to wear the title of an Obsidian King?

For just a moment, Mike’s fight softened - only to surge again, wilder now, as if something inside him knew it was almost too late. He raked his fingers across Evan’s arm, trying to grab hold, but the skin stayed unmoved beneath the scrapes.

"Don’t - don’t do anything rash!"

A sudden edge in Rex Valquin’s tone broke the silence, tight like a wire about to snap.

He shoved past the guards trying to restrain him, his composure cracking for the first time. "Just leave!" he shouted, stepping forward despite the hands grabbing at his arms. "We’ll end it here. The Valquin household won’t pursue this any further!"

His words came fast, desperate—nothing like the measured tone of a man used to control.

"Whatever this is, it ends now," Rex added, his voice lowering but no less urgent. "You’ve made your point."

Evan didn’t even look at him.

Not once.

His eyes never left Julian.

He wasn’t begging.

He was negotiating with a devil.

"This," Evan said coldly, tightening his grip just enough to make Mike choke harder, "should be his decision."

He pointed at Julian.

Mike, barely conscious, forced his hand upward.

A weak wave.

No.

His eyes were bloodshot but determined.

He had trained for years. He knew exactly how strong Julian was.

Julian’s skills were barely enough to kill a chicken—his own words from years ago when they joked about gym class.

Letting Julian take his place?

That would be sending him to his death.

Julian had already saved him once inside the hall.

He didn’t need saving twice.

If he really died today at Evan’s hands...

Then they could be brothers again in the next life.

The thought almost made him laugh.

"What?" Evan sneered. "Are you really going to watch your brother die in my hands, you useless piece of trash?"

His voice was low, deliberate.

Didn’t you like playing dirty?

Then let’s play dirty.

Are you going to watch him suffocate in front of everyone?

Do you have no shame?

Silence stretched tight as a drawn bowstring.

Julian’s jaw clenched.

His heartbeat slowed.

He exhaled.

"Let him go," Julian said, each word steady. "I’ll take his place."

The courtyard erupted into noise.

"What are you saying?!"

"Absolutely not!"

The Valquin household descended into panic.

They couldn’t bear to watch Mike die—

But they also couldn’t let Julian walk into a slaughter.

Gwen’s vision blurred.

Her throat tightened painfully as she stared at Julian.

Three years ago, when they were teenagers, they had fought—fiercely.

He had been arrogant. Reckless.

Then came the humiliating years where he chased Selena Aurevale like a fool, degrading himself in public.

She had looked down on him.

What kind of man has no self-respect? she used to think.

But the man standing in front of her now—

Tall. Calm. Shoulders squared.

Black hair stirred by the evening wind.

Golden eyes unwavering.

He looked...

Dashing.

Handsome.

Not in a shallow way.

But in the way a man looks when he chooses responsibility over safety.

What woman wouldn’t admire that?

Her heart trembled.

"You really dare to agree?" Evan said, surprised despite himself.

He loosened his grip slightly. Mike collapsed to his knees, gasping for air.

Evan had never intended to kill him.

He just wanted to humiliate Julian.

To break him publicly.

But since Julian agreed—

He wouldn’t hold back.

"Let him go," Julian repeated, stepping forward. "We’ll settle this outside. One punch each. Winner takes all."

He pointed toward the open space beyond the courtyard gates.

A clean duel.

No tricks.

No hostages.

Even though he wanted to stay low-key.

He wasn’t the Obsidian King.

He had his own principles.

For his brother.

"Fine," Evan said.

But even as he agreed, his fingers still hovered near Mike’s neck until he finally shoved him away.

The three of them walked toward the open grounds.

Boots against gravel.

The wind picked up.

Clouds shifted above like silent witnesses.

Behind them, the crowd followed.

Exorcists.

Bodyguards.

Valquin family members.

Everyone.

Whispers spread through the group.

"He didn’t hesitate."

"He volunteered."

"That’s courage."

The exorcists who had once called him Young Master in polite tones now looked at Julian with something deeper than respect.

Reverence.

What is a true master?

Not someone who boasts.

Not someone who threatens.

But someone who steps forward when it matters.

Gwen stopped at the edge of the courtyard, hands clasped tightly together.

Julian stood beneath the dimming sky, silhouette straight and unwavering.

For the first time—

She didn’t see a former rival.

Or a foolish rich heir.

She saw a man.

And her heart, despite the danger, beat faster for him.