Zion’s voice trembled with such fury that it broke apart in pieces. The knights of Shildras, too, were visibly shaken by the Crown Prince’s audacious words dragging the former Duke—long respected—into question. Though they dared not show open hostility due to Aster’s status, the anger in their eyes was unmistakable.
“I will admit, Your Highness, that my command yesterday was not flawless. However, all I did was assert the rightful claim of House Shildras. Moreover, it was my first time leading the Tithers. There were injuries, yes, but no casualties. To use that outcome as justification to insult my house and my father—don’t you think that’s going too far?”
At Zion’s rebuttal, Aster let out a low chuckle. His smile remained steady, unfazed, as he returned fire.
“Do I look like someone who blurs the line between personal feelings and duty, like the Duke did? Unlike you yesterday, I am fully aware of my station and responsibility as Crown Prince. Everything I’ve said was for the safety of Solias and its people. Your father coveted the power of House Brosius and committed a grievous act because of it.”
“Anyone can fabricate words like that. My father would never do such a thing. Didn’t Her Majesty the Queen witness the incident herself? Or do you not realize your accusation implicates even the Queen?”
Zion had struck at the most precarious point. Yet Aster didn’t flinch.
“That matter concerns the royal household. It’s not your place as a Tither to meddle. What matters here is not what the previous Duke of Shildras claimed, but what he actually did. The Duke awakened the Devil for his own selfish ambition. And what I seek here in this forest today is proof of that very crime.”
“Then you should be the one to present that proof first, Your Highness! Are you really accusing my father with nothing more than empty words?”
“I have witnesses, Duke of Shildras. Ones your knights know very well. Sir Chertan, former commander of the Shildras knights, and his lieutenant, Naos.”
At Aster’s words, the knights surrounding Zion began to murmur with unrest. It had only been a few years since the incident—many still remembered the former commander. One of the knights called out:
“Your Highness, Commander Chertan died on that day! He was lost to the Rampage of the former Grand Duke Axid!”
“No. He survived. Your lord, Sirkan Shildras, made a mistake while trying to eliminate the witness. He underestimated Chertan’s will to live—and paid the price for it.”
With that, Aster turned toward the tent and called out the name of the dead.
“Sir Chertan, you may show yourself now.”
As he confidently summoned the former commander, the Shildras knights all turned to the tent in unison. Zion, too, stood frozen, eyes wide, staring in stunned silence. His usually vibrant face had gone pale as a corpse.
Seiyad also found himself staring at the tent, filled with a sensation too complex to describe. It felt unreal. Even when Aster had dragged out Cecilia, claiming to have found a witness, Seiyad hadn’t believed it. He had assumed it was the same hollow bluff as in his previous life—just another false piece of evidence.
But then, a middle-aged man, his body riddled with scars, began walking out of the tent. And the way the knights recoiled in disbelief upon seeing him made it clear—this was really happening.
Could it truly be this easy to prove his mother’s innocence?
Back then, when he had stood beside Aster, drenched in blood and loyal to the end, it had all seemed so impossibly far away. And now it was happening as if it were nothing.
The moment he had dreamed of with every breath in his past life—it didn’t bring him joy. A life devoted to nothing but this vindication, and yet all Seiyad felt now was a cold, unsettling dissonance.
“Commander…? You’re really alive?!”
Heze, the current commander of the Shildras knights, was the first to react, dashing toward Chertan. The other knights followed suit, rushing after him. Seiyad, too, had met the man once as a child. His mother had described the former commander as a steadfast, capable leader, deeply respected by his men.
Most of the knights seemed to remember him as they hurried to greet Chertan. Only Zion remained, standing frozen with a few others. Chertan slowly looked around at the gathered knights before speaking.
“You’re all still alive… That’s good. What the Crown Prince just said is true. On that day, I saw it myself—the massive Nir’a that stormed the plaza at noon. The former Grand Duke Axid fought with all she had to protect the people and evacuate everyone…”
Chertan looked like someone who had clawed his way back from the dead. His voice was faint, barely more than a whisper, and one of his arms was missing. He turned a bitter gaze on Zion and continued.
“But your lord… left the very knights who served him with their lives to die. That Nir’a, as if obeying his command, slaughtered the knights one after another and then vanished without a trace. And that wasn’t the only thing I couldn’t believe. Your lord… went around checking the fallen, and if anyone was still breathing, he finished them off himself.”
Gasps erupted all around the clearing. Aster’s knights didn’t miss their moment—they turned to Zion with eyes full of contempt. Even the Shildras knights, caught in a storm of confusion, looked at him with doubt.
From where they stood, Stella and Nova couldn’t suppress their shock. Nova, in particular, had her hands over her mouth, staring at Zion in horror.
“The former Grand Duke Axid died with a false charge to her name. She fought to protect Her Majesty the Queen and all of us from Nir’a. But in the end…”
Chertan choked on his words and stifled a sob. Aster seized the moment and stepped forward.
“Duke of Shildras. The command you claimed as your house’s rightful authority was won through vile and dishonorable means. Do you understand now? You were never worthy of it. That command belonged to my Tithers from the beginning. It belonged to the Grand Duke Axid, who lost his parents to slander and bore that infamy alone.”
As soon as Aster finished speaking, Chertan turned toward Seiyad and dropped to his knees.
“Forgive me, Grand Duke! The former Grand Duke did everything he could to protect us, but the Devil’s schemes thwarted him. Please… forgive me for only appearing now!”
At Chertan’s sorrowful cry, the knights of Shildras wore expressions of anguish. Though it was difficult to accept the sudden downpour of truth, they appeared visibly swayed by their former commander’s actions. Following his lead, Adena, commander of Aster’s knight order, stepped forward.
“So the title ‘Devil’ used to defame the Grand Duke… turns out it referred to the former Duke of Shildras.”
The crowd was easily stirred by Aster’s words. Such was the power of a crown prince holding authority. In an instant, sides were drawn, and Zion stood isolated. The hostile shift in atmosphere pierced him.
Watching the scene, Seiyad suddenly felt a suffocating tightness in his chest. This wasn’t unfamiliar. He, too, had experienced it—being alienated, separated from others and left alone. The method might differ, but the image was the same. That made Seiyad uneasy.
Zion, who had been frozen stiff since Chertan’s appearance, snapped back to himself and shouted against the wave of attacks.
“Enough! Stop it, all of you! Have you forgotten that it’s me, not the former Duke, whom you serve? There’s no solid proof here—just words! Words alone prove nothing!”
With Zion’s rising agitation, his power rippled unstably. Gold flickered in his eyes, and the air around him turned stark white. Watching the charged scene unfold, Bridehit stepped forward to restrain him.
“Zion, that’s enough.”
“Duke Bridehit, you don’t actually believe this, do you? You were there, dealing with the situation. As my father’s friend, are you really going to sit back and let him be slandered like this?”
Zion pleaded, as if desperately seeking an ally. Bridehit’s face, as he looked at the young man, was laced with both pity and guilt. And finally, Seiyad understood why he wore such an expression—it was because he’d learned the truth about what had happened to Seiyad’s mother.
Bridehit slowly shook his head. His expression turned grim. After silently looking at Zion for a moment, he turned his gaze to Seiyad. Their eyes met. Bridehit dragged a hand down his face roughly, then spoke.
“I don’t want to believe this either. But… my conscience won’t allow me to remain silent. When His Highness spoke of these things, it brought back a memory I’d buried, Zion. Your father was deeply interested in the forest and in the Devil. He was the one who discovered that the red cores in the forest were fragments of the Devil’s power, sealed away.”
“That’s impossible!”
Zion roared and stormed toward Bridehit. As he lost control and began acting threateningly, Nova intervened.
“Stop it, Zion! What are you doing?!”
Her sharp cry brought a gust of wind. Her twin braids fluttered in the breeze. Zion looked at her with eyes full of hurt.
“Nova, I… I wasn’t trying to do anything. Don’t tell me—you don’t believe all this, do you?”
Zion’s plea made Nova hesitate, but doubt had already crept into her voice as she responded.
“Now that I think about it, things do seem off. You—and the former Duke—used to constantly speak ill of the House of Axid. Looking back, was that all intentional?”
“It wasn’t like that! My father would never do such a thing! Maybe others don’t know, but you, and Duke Bridehit, should believe me! What reason would my father even have to do something like that?!”
Zion continued to assert his father’s innocence, but his composure unraveled more with every word. Nova’s rebuke—coming from someone who’d been at his side since they were young—struck him harder than anything else. He wore a broken expression, eyes darting around the clearing as if searching for just one ally.
And then his gaze landed on Ressas. Zion, noticing how frozen Ressas had been since Aster first spoke, rushed over and clung to him.
“Ressas, say something. Are you going to just stand there while His Highness slanders your mother?”
Aster seized the moment to point out the impropriety in Zion’s tone.
“Should you really be addressing a prince so casually in front of all these people, Duke of Shildras? My brother is not someone you can speak to however you please.”
It was a rare occasion—Aster, who would never defend Ressas, now chose to back him up. With a devastated look on his face, Ressas looked down at Zion, then turned his head and met Seiyad’s eyes. Seiyad watched him, not even knowing what he hoped for.
Two opposing feelings battled within him. He wanted Ressas to abandon Zion, just as Ressas had always said he would—for Seiyad’s sake. Yet at the same time, seeing Ressas corner Zion like this felt wrong. It didn’t suit him. That wasn’t the Ressas Seiyad knew.
All eyes were on Ressas. Cecilia glared at him with pursed lips, watching intently. The other Tithers were also waiting for his response.
At last, Ressas opened his mouth. A quiet breath escaped his lips before he gently raised a hand and peeled Zion’s grip off his own. Zion blinked up at him, his face full of disbelief.
“I can’t lie for you, Zion. The truth doesn’t change just because we don’t want to hear it. You said we need evidence—but remember, the accusations against the former Grand Duke were made solely on your father’s and my mother’s testimonies.”
Ressas looked pained. But he didn’t stop.
“And the claim that your father awakened the Devil… is a testimony with considerable credibility.”
His gaze then shifted to Aster. Though his violet eyes seemed expressionless at first glance, Seiyad caught a glimpse of contempt and fury behind them. Emotions so coldly buried beneath his pale features that only Seiyad could perceive them.
Seiyad had never seen Ressas direct his emotions at Aster like this before. That beautiful person who had always been gentle and earnest with him—seeing him harbor such deep hatred felt utterly foreign. Yet to everyone else, Ressas merely looked composed as he stared at Aster and said:
“But brother, the timing is rather curious. There have been countless chances over the past few years to reveal the former Duke of Shildras’ crimes. Why is it that the moment a monster like nothing we’ve ever seen appears, you suddenly bring forth irrefutable proof? It’s almost as if you’re orchestrating every piece of this yourself.”
