NOVPUB"It was my grave mistake, Your Majesty!" Ezra said, his voice trembling yet resolute. "I know I was too late to act—but haven't I always been honest with you?"
Claude's presence alone was suffocating, his aura dense enough to crush lesser men, yet Ezra stood his ground.
"I'm the one who investigated everything. I sent you the reports. I exposed the corruption—even though some of those people were my own blood."
His fists clenched tightly. "So give me one more chance. I won't be soft this time."
He raised his head, eyes burning with conviction. "Today, I learned more than I ever have. That sometimes silence speaks louder than any action. That I can't afford to trust blindly anymore. That I must always watch my back."
There was no wavering in his voice now. He meant every word.
But Claude remained unmoved.
He didn't need someone emotional or idealistic—he needed someone efficient, someone firm yet discerning.
Someone who understood the weight of leadership without being consumed by personal guilt or attachments.
And Ezra wasn't that person.
Claude shook his head. "No. I can't entrust it to you this time. Just focus on your welfare program—the one thing you're actually good at."
Then, without another glance, Claude turned and continued down the corridor with Llyold at his side. Ezra stood frozen, shoulders slumped under the crushing weight of failure.
For the second time in his life, he had failed.
They finally arrived at a particular cell—though it was less a prison and more an interrogation room. Inside, a man sat chained to a chair, cloaked in black robes. Near the door stood Sun, who bowed as Claude entered.
"This human—no, half-daemon—threw his words like spears and fled into the forest, Your Majesty," Sun reported.
"He tried to use a teleportation scroll before we caught him."
Keira hovered in the air, circling the man like a shadowy specter. Her curious eyes scanned him, black hair slightly swaying in the air. Claude narrowed his gaze.
The man's black hair and green eyes sparked something in Claude's memory.
"Hm... What a strange mana. Half-human, half-daemon... must be a failed experiment," Keira said, voice sharp with disdain.
"I–I'm not a failed experiment! I was born, not made in some lab!" the man shot back.
"You talk back?" Claude said, his crimson eyes gleaming with quiet menace.
The man's voice died in his throat. He lowered his gaze, trembling under the oppressive weight of Claude's presence.
Claude sat across from him, studying his face. There was something familiar about him. He tapped his fingers on the armrest, thinking.
'Banquet? Ball? Courtroom? Where have I seen him before...?'
The silence stretched until it became unbearable. The man was shaking now, unable to withstand the suffocating atmosphere.
Then, he broke. "I... I did it for my mother!"
Claude's eyes narrowed. "Your mother?"
The man nodded rapidly. "My name is Shan. You kidnapped my mother from Solair Village… I came here looking for her. But she—she didn't make it. She couldn't survive the winter…"
He clenched his fists, pain and hatred flashing in his eyes. "Then someone approached me… told me how to spark an uprising. He taught me what to say, how to stir the others…"
He exhaled heavily. "I told you everything. Just—just don't kill me. I just want to bring my mother's corpse home…"
Claude leaned back, crimson eyes narrowing in thought. His suspicion was right. Someone orchestrated the rebellion—an uprising like that didn't happen by chance.
"I'll grant you and your mother's remains freedom," Claude said at last, "but only if you tell me the man's name and his characteristics."
"I... I can't," Shan said, biting his lower lip. "I made a binding vow with him."
"Tch, that again." Claude exhaled. "But you can still point him out, can't you?"
"I… I believe so."
Claude's gaze lingered. "Do you know that man? Is he your father, perhaps?"
Shan blinked in shock. "I… I don't know who my father is. But… a daemon helped me get here. He acted like he recognized me."
"Ah! Doesn't he kind of look like William?" Llyold suddenly chimed in. "Or maybe someone from the Varnaz family—they all have that same look."
Claude rubbed his chin, thinking hard. It was plausible.
Whoever had orchestrated this rebellion knew his temperament well—knew that losing this many slaves would cripple food production, disrupt the economy, and weaken military supply lines like those to Deepstone Quarry.
That kind of sabotage could only come from someone with serious influence—and insider knowledge.
"We'll investigate this further," Claude said firmly. Then he turned to Llyold. "Come with me. We'll discuss this in the office—and you'll meet this William we're talking about."
But before they could leave, Ezra stepped forward. "Your Majesty, it might not be William! As Llyold said, the Varnaz family members all resemble each other!"
Claude's expression darkened. "Shut up, Ezra. I've had enough of your nonsense today." He stood up, his cape swaying behind him as he strode out of the cell with Llyold, Sun, and Shan following closely behind.
"But—Your Majesty! It could be a trap to strain your relationship with the Varnaz!" Ezra insisted, quickening his pace to follow.
Claude didn't even look back. "You think I'm a fool? I know more than you think. This time, shut your mouth and trust me."
Ezra halted as Llyold placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Ezra," Llyold said, voice calm but sharp, "learn to observe before you speak or act. You're the one who said silence can be stronger than any words or actions."
Then, without another glance, Llyold turned and followed the king, leaving Ezra standing alone in the corridor, weighed down by doubt and confusion.
---
Once they reached the office, Llyold opened the door. Inside, William was diligently reviewing documents. He rose the moment he saw the king enter, bowing respectfully—until his eyes landed on the young man trailing behind them.
His brow furrowed. "You...?"
Claude didn't waste time. "Is he the one?" he asked Shan directly.
Shan's eyes sharpened. "Yes, my Lord. That's him. He's the one who helped me—who taught me everything."
William's face twisted in confusion. "Met? Taught you? I don't understand. What are you talking about?"
But Claude wasn't interested in hearing his excuses.
"You heard him, Llyold. Launch an investigation on William and the entire Varnaz family under suspicion of rebellion."
William's eyes widened in shock. "Rebellion?! Your Majesty, I would never—"
Llyold stepped forward without hesitation. He leaned in close to William and murmured, "Just comply for now. His Majesty has already made his decision."
After Llyold led William away, Claude turned to Shan. With a flick of his hand, he brushed the dust off his tunic and said coldly, "Good. Now go retrieve your mother's corpse."
He look at Ezra. "Guide this boy out of the palace." 𝙣𝒐𝙫𝙥𝙪𝙗.𝙘𝙤𝙢
Ezra hesitated for a moment before nodding silently. He then walked Shan out of the royal halls, past the towering gates, and out into the open road.
He watched the young man disappear into the distance, unscathed and unpunished.
Not like the King at all.
And so, the name of Varnaz fell under a dark shadow. The investigation had been declared—official and absolute, by the king himself.
Whispers of rebellion slithered through the court like smoke, infecting even the most loyal with doubt. Fear bloomed in silence.
For Claude, it didn't matter who you were—ally or enemy, coalition member or noble house. If suspicion fell on you, judgment would follow.
---
Far away, deep in a hidden chamber veiled in darkness, three figures sat gathered. The dim glow of candles flickered across their wine glasses, casting
shadows on their black robes.
Two of them kept their hoods on, but one did not—a young man with brown hair and glinting green eyes.
Shan.
They laughed like men possessed, the sound echoing off the cold stone walls. Shan nearly choked on his drink, laughter bubbling up from his chest.
"I can't believe it was that easy to fool the king!" he cackled. "He bought every word!"
"Of course he did," said the older man beside him, removing his hood to reveal a lined face, Rowan of House Rolvod, the very man who held dominion over the kingdom's judicial system.
"The king acts on fury, never reason. All we needed was the right push. Now, William will be ruined—and I will ensure it myself, with the full force of my authority!" Rowan raised his glass, grinning.
The last figure, still cloaked in shadows, remained silent—only the curl of a smile visible beneath his hood. Then he reached out and placed a hand on Shan's shoulder.
"You did well, my child. Just as I raised you to. I knew your bloodline would serve a higher purpose."
Shan's eyes shimmered, caught off guard by the rare praise. "Father…"
For someone like Shan—born of both human and daemon blood, too faint in darkness to be embraced by daemons, too tainted to be accepted by humans—such words carried more weight than steel.
But now, finally, his weakness had become a weapon. His human-like features and diluted dark mana made him the perfect infiltrator among the slaves. And he had used that gift to spark a fire from the shadows.
The cloaked man raised his wine glass high. "To the glory of Elysium."
The others followed without hesitation, lifting their glasses with matching fervor.
"To the glory of Elysium!"
