"I told you to slice meat, and you try to perform a paper art show. Now that I ask you to grill, and you start concocting potions? Seriously?" Marcus tossed the skewer in his hand straight at Calum's feet, his expression steeped in disdain. "So that's how it is. That senile old Beast God must've finally realized how useless you are. And since you're not exactly young anymore, he matched you with Ms. Tibarn out of mercy. The old fossil basically sent you off to a retirement home to die quietly." Marcus's venom spared no one, except Emma. Everyone in the house had experienced it firsthand. And though they knew he was deliberately provoking Calum, the words still made them wince with sympathy. Calum stood by the grill in silence, head lowered, staring at the shattered, charred skewer on the ground. His lips were clamped tight. Not a word came out. He looked… honestly a bit tragic."What's going on?" Lucien walked over, gave the burnt mess on the ground a quick glance, and looked to Marcus. Marcus pointed at Calum and gave a short recap of the slicing-and-grilling disaster. Then he added, matter-of-factly, "I'm not dealing with a beast this stupid. I'm going to accompany Ms. Tibarn." He spun around and walked off. D*mn it. My brain has to be waterlogged. For a moment earlier, he'd actually thought that annoying bastard Calum looked pitiful. Definitely an illusion. Yeah. A total hallucination. Lucien watched Marcus retreating and could only twitch at the corner of his mouth. He'd told Marcus to test Calum, not verbally assassinate him. "Marshal." Lucien braced himself. "Marcus talks like that to everyone. Don't take it to heart. I'll talk to him later." Calum lifted his eyes, giving Lucien a slow, unreadable look.He'd chosen Lucien as his successor. He knew exactly what kind of person he was. But he hadn't expected Lucien to test him like this. Heh. He can wait. Calum bent down, picked up the charred skewer, and began eating it, bite by stubborn bite. Lucien was taken aback. "Marshal!" He tried to stop him. Calum shut him down instantly. He finished the dusty, bitter skewer in silence before finally speaking, "Don't discipline Marcus. It's my fault. I'm the idiot who can't even manage something as basic as grilling." The defeat was real to Calum. It is just grilling. Every other male in the house can do it flawlessly. I can't. Nothing Marcus said was entirely wrong. Lucien watched his calm expression and felt his eyelid twitch violently. He could already tell that he and Marcus were doomed this round. "Cooking takes talent," Lucien said weakly after some thought. "If you can't do it now, it's fine." "I'll learn." Calum's jaw tightened. He was sure he would learn to cook. I won't lose to the other males. I won't let Ms. Tibarn taste something awful because of me. Fueled by determination, he grabbed a few more skewers and set them onto the flames. "Oh, Lucien." While flipping the meat, Calum added casually, "After our spar tomorrow, I have a task for you." Lucien fell silent. What the hell does that mean? I'm not about to get revenge this quickly, right? "What task, Marshal?" he asked softly. The frontlines were quiet. There were no Chitinids causing trouble. Lucien had just returned and could finally spend time with Emma. So, what task does Marshal want me to do? "You'll know tomorrow." Calum replied swiftly. Lucien couldn't get a word out. On purpose. He is absolutely doing this on purpose. Behind them, Emma pinched Marcus sharply at the waist. "You were way out of line. What if Calum snapped and fought you?" Calum was a Rank 12. If fists flew, Marcus would be flattened. "He won't touch me." Marcus rubbed the spot she'd pinched. She'd used decent strength, but for him it barely registered. If anything, it thrilled him. He caught her hand and guided it to the other side of his waist. "Ms. Tibarn. This side too." Emma was stunned into silence. So now he wants a reward? She tried to pull her hand back. Marcus only held tighter. He guided her palm onto his abdomen. Heat radiated through his thin shirt. "Ms. Tibarn." Marcus leaned in, voice low, lazy, wicked, like he was whispering enchantments. "Pinch me again. I like it." Emma was helpless against him like this. Her cheeks flushed a deep red. She gave a shy, symbolic pinch to his waist. "Enough. Get up." People were watching. She needed to maintain at least a hint of composure. Her ears were burning as she tried to pull her wrist away, but it didn't move. Marcus was far from satisfied. "Ms. Tibarn…" He buried his face against her neck. His cool breath ghosted over her skin, sending a tremor racing down her back—sweet, electric, impossible to ignore.