The Duke's youngest son is Unbearable

---

The Flower Incident

Asher narrowed his eyes at a lone flower swaying gently in the breeze. "Alright, let's see what I can do," he muttered under his breath.

Extending his hand toward it, he focused with unwavering intensity. He could still remember the name of his ability—Timebreaker.

The title speaks for itself, doesn't it? He thought. If I can break time, then let's break time for this flower.

He envisioned the flower rapidly aging, its petals withering and stems turning brittle, as if years were passing in mere seconds. Holding that thought in his mind, he exhaled sharply and thought, Now.

The wind whispered through the garden. The leaves rustled softly.

…And the flower remained completely unchanged.

Asher frowned.

Okay, maybe I need to say it out loud like in anime or something.

Taking a deep breath, he pointed at the flower dramatically and shouted, "Timebreaker!"

Silence.

Nothing happened.

Not even a flicker of power.

Then, a small sound reached his ears—stifled laughter.

His head snapped toward the source, and his crimson eyes landed on a maid standing a short distance away, her hands clamped over her mouth as if trying—desperately—to hold back her amusement.

Their eyes met.

A single second passed.

Then, as if her restraint completely shattered, she burst into laughter, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Asher stood frozen, watching in horror as the maid, still giggling, spun around and ran off, likely to spread the tale of his epic failure across the estate.

For a long moment, the garden was completely silent.

Asher slowly turned back to the unbothered flower.

Maybe dying a third time wouldn't be so bad…

---

The Archduke's Arrival

A luxurious carriage rolled into the noble district of Ekla, the capital of the Aurion Empire. Pulled by three golem horses, its exterior gleamed in the sunlight, and the insignia of the Crimson Family was displayed prominently on its side.

Behind it, five additional carriages followed in a precise formation, surrounded by soldiers in crimson-stitched uniforms, each wearing a distinctive crimson glove on their right hand—the mark of the Crimson Guard. Their disciplined presence made the passing citizens gaze in silent awe.

Inside the leading carriage, a man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties sat with perfect posture, though in reality, he was in his late thirties. His crimson hair was neatly combed, and his piercing crimson-red eyes carried an oppressive intensity that few could withstand. His features bore a striking resemblance to Arthur's, though there was something colder, more commanding about him.

Archduke Emroy Alexander Crimson.

As the carriage moved, one of the soldiers broke formation and galloped ahead toward the Crimson Estate, carrying news of the Archduke's imminent arrival.

---

Asher's Existential Crisis

Meanwhile, inside Asher's room…

At present, Asher was buried beneath his sheets on his king-sized bed, staring blankly at the darkness, contemplating the meaning of life.

That humiliating incident in the garden replayed in his head over and over again. The laughter. The eye contact. The pure second-hand embarrassment.

He groaned. Maybe I should just die. Again.

Suddenly, a knock sounded at his door.

"Master Asher, are you there?"

Clarissa's voice carried through from the other side.

From beneath the covers, a muffled voice responded, "No."

A pause. Then, amusement laced her words. "Then who, may I ask, is answering my question?"

A sigh.

"A man who wishes not to be disturbed as he contemplates the very essence of existence itself."

Clarissa chuckled softly. "I'm afraid those thoughts will have to wait. News has arrived—The Archduke has entered the capital and will be arriving at the estate shortly."

The sheets rustled. A messy head of crimson hair peeked out, and Asher blinked.

"He's already here?"

"He will be in a short while."

Asher felt a deep sense of impending doom settle in his stomach.

"Great. Just great."

His mind raced. Now the time has come. I shall face my greatest fear yet—meeting my father and explaining how his idiotic, foolish son almost died because of his jealousy over a girl.

His entire body cringed.

Man, the embarrassment.

For a fleeting moment, he wondered—Was this truly a new life? Or was this my personal version of Hell, where I am eternally cursed to suffer from secondhand humiliation?

---

The Archduke's Arrival at the Crimson Estate

The grand estate of the Crimson Family stood tall, an architectural masterpiece adorned with intricate carvings, gleaming pillars, and banners embroidered with their infamous insignia.

A row of maids and butlers stood ready at the entrance, their postures straight, eyes forward. Arthur stood among them, his expression composed yet alert.

Asher, meanwhile, tried his best to look alive and not completely dead inside.

As the carriage halted, the guards swiftly dismounted. A footman stepped forward, opening the door with a deep bow.

From within, Archduke Emroy Alexander Crimson stepped out.

The atmosphere changed immediately.

The moment his crimson eyes swept over them, an almost tangible weight filled the air. Even the most seasoned knights subtly straightened their spines.

His gaze lingered on Arthur, giving the slightest nod of approval, before shifting to Asher.

For a brief moment, their eyes met.

Asher swallowed.

Yep. Definitely Hell.

---

Inside the Study

The walls of the Archduke's personal study were lined with towering bookshelves, ancient tomes, and artifacts radiating an undeniable aura of history and power. A heavy desk stood at the center, and behind it, Emroy Alexander Crimson sat, his posture as rigid as ever.

Arthur stood to the side, his expression unreadable.

Asher, on the other hand, sat stiffly across from his father, shifting slightly under the intensity of that crimson gaze.

Finally, Emroy leaned forward slightly, his fingers interlaced. His voice, deep and commanding, broke the silence.

"Now, Asher—explain to me what exactly happened in that dungeon."

Asher's lips parted slightly, but no words came out. His mind scrambled for the right way to phrase it.

How do I explain this in a way that doesn't make me sound like the biggest idiot in history?

...I can't.

And so, he prepared himself to accept his fate.

-----

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