Devran, who should have been dead to atone for his supposed sins, couldn't be allowed to live. The same went for the Apeto family, who had joined hands with him and orchestrated all these events. If it were revealed that Zakail had allied with them to seize the lordship, he would never be forgiven.
Even though Zakail hadn't yet inherited the lordship, with success so close, he never anticipated things would turn out like this. His mind spun, but the urge to escape by any means necessary drove him to act without shame.
"How dare you plot in front of me, the Lord of Hartan? Escape? Report? This is absurd! I will contact His Grace, the Duke of Peletta, your immediate master, at once. I will ask him to grant me permission to execute the one who killed my father and sister—someone who now roams free with a calm face!"
"Did I kill the lord and the others?"
Devran was the one who responded. He let out a bitter, genuine laugh, as if Zakail's accusation was beyond absurd. However, the laughter that came from his bruised and battered face looked monstrous, making Zakail instinctively recoil in fear.
"So... so, didn't you?" Zakail sputtered, his voice shaky. "By starting a great fire!"
"Why would I?"
Devran's lips curled into a twisted smile, his eyes burning with hatred. His voice, however, was eerily calm, sending a chill down Zakail's spine.
"What?"
"Why would I do that, huh?" Devran asked again, his voice cold. "No matter how much I think about it, there's no reason. I left my hometown, joined the Cavalry, received a holy order from the Emperor himself, and earned plenty of money. I was on the path to success. Why would I throw that all away? Doesn't that seem ridiculous to you?"
"How should I know?" Zakail spat back, desperate to hold onto his accusations. "People like you gain a little power and start thinking you're above your station. In your arrogance, you probably started the fire! Because of you, I didn't even get to hear my father's and sister's final words!"
"So, you're going to blame me with lies until the very end?"
"So, are you saying I, who wasn't even in Hartan at the time, started the fire?"
"Ha, that's a good point," Devran replied. "Let's discuss that, shall we?"
As Devran's piercing eyes locked onto his, Zakail fought to maintain his composure, but his unease continued to grow.
'What's this? Does he have some kind of proof? No. These guys don't know anything yet. I left no solid evidence linking me to the Apeto family. Even if they overheard something, words alone can't serve as evidence.'
Zakail's eyes darted nervously, but his thoughts were interrupted when Devran began to speak.
"The men who captured me complained that taking over a small place like Hartan wasn't worth the trouble. They said the effort far outweighed what they'd gain and that without me as a payoff, it wouldn't have been worth it at all. That means someone made a deal, took Hartan, and handed me over as compensation. Who could that someone be, if not you, Zakail Hartan, especially now that the Lord and the heir, Zupiel, are gone?"
"…"
"Could it have been Zachlis? He's already received his knighthood and started a new life—there's no motive for him. But you, Zakail Hartan, you had a reason. Can you swear before God that you didn't commit all these crimes just to claim the Lordship?"
Devran's voice boomed, loud enough that even the distant guards could hear every word. Zakail gritted his teeth as he noticed the murmurs spreading among them.
"After the fire, you didn't listen to a single thing I said. You immediately framed me as the culprit, locked me away, and then had me buried alive near the Rock of Death. Am I wrong?" Devran pressed.
"No!" Zakail's body convulsed in frustration as he yelled, but no matter how hard he struggled, the shadow clone restraining him didn't budge.
"I heard that you had committed suicide in prison, so I simply ordered for your quiet burial!" Zakail shouted in his defense.
"Whom did you give that order to?"
The voice that cut in wasn't Devran's but that of a strikingly handsome man with auburn hair. Dressed in a sharply fitted black uniform, he looked down at Zakail, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and suspicion.
"Tell us, Zakail. To whom did you give this order? If we can find this person, the truth will be revealed, won't it, Devran?"
"Exactly, I had no idea who had taken me that day—I was hooded the entire time."
'These... brats.'
Zakail realized too late that he had walked right into their trap. Of course, he had never given such an order. It was the Apeto family's men, disguised as hunters, who had kidnapped Devran, buried him, and later dug him back up—all as part of a carefully prearranged deal with Zakail.
Zakail himself had unlocked the prison door, allowing them to carry out their mission unnoticed in the pre-dawn hours. To distract his older brother Zachlis, who had rushed back upon hearing of their father and sister's deaths, Zakail spent the entire day staging a grand funeral on the back hill, purposely dragging out the time to divert attention.
As expected, no one cared about the missing Devran. Everyone believed he was responsible for the fire and the deaths of the family.
Who could have suspected that Zakail, with his grieving demeanor, had orchestrated the entire thing? Zachlis, overwhelmed by the death of his lover and preoccupied with his knightly duties, barely noticed the details of the funeral.
Zachlis had said he'd deal with the inheritance matters later, once he returned to the Knights' Order. Zakail had been certain his sentimental brother would never want to claim the lordship of a village haunted by the death of his lover. After all, the future of a knight shone far brighter than the role of a minor lord.
Zakail had been poised to seize control. With the Apeto family's backing, instead of the Diarca family, who had done nothing for him. His dream was to rise from the insignificant youngest son of a small lord to a true power in the East.
But that dream was slipping away. Zakail bit down hard on his lower lip, tasting blood. He couldn't allow everything to fall apart now—not because of these commoners.
'Stay calm. Losing my temper won't help. Bowing to them now may be humiliating, but survival is more important.'
"I really can't remember who I gave that order to," Zakail said slowly, eyes darting between Devran and the auburn-haired man. "There wasn't enough context…"
"You're only saying that now…!"
Zakail's lips twisted into a forced smile as he fought to maintain his composure. "Father and my brother are gone. What reason would I have to harm you? If there is danger, it's possible those men who claimed to capture you deceived me as well. Right?"
"What?" Devran's eyes narrowed, suspicious.
Zakail's smile widened as he leaned into his lie. "Think about it. I'm a victim too. I didn't capture you. I only ordered your burial after hearing you had died in prison. If anyone is to blame, it's the ones who actually took you. Shouldn't your vengeance be directed at them?"
"…"
"Free me now. If you do, I'll forgive all the insolence you've shown me," Zakail offered, his voice steady despite his precarious position. "As the current representative of the Lord of Hartan, I'll even assist you. I'll contact the capital to find the real culprit. Persisting in this manner won't do you any good."
Devran and everyone else present stared at Zakail, incredulous at his audacity. Despite having no evidence, Zakail was still trying to manipulate the situation. His boldness was almost impressive.
'He won't admit anything without proof. I should do what needs to be done before he spins the narrative any further.'
"Devran, we need to send a letter. Let's head back to the castle," Gakane said firmly.
"Can't we just kill him?" Devran muttered, his scowl deepening as he stared at his enemy. Zakail visibly recoiled, holding his breath.
"Did Yuder say it was okay?" Gakane asked pointedly.
"No."
"Then don't."
With that, Gakane moved closer to Devran, lowering his voice so only he could hear. "When Yuder finishes his work and returns, this guy's done for. You don't need to get your hands dirty. Our leader will take care of it. For the sake of your family, bear with it a little longer."
Devran exhaled, the mention of his family softening his expression. His anger simmered down, though his hatred for Zakail hadn't diminished. "…Alright," he said quietly.
They bound Zakail and took him back to Hartan Castle. The villagers, shocked to see Zakail being dragged along by a shadow clone, looked as though they might faint. But their surprise grew even more when they spotted Devran and his family, who had been presumed dead, returning alive.
"What's going on? I thought he was dead!"
"And now Lord Zakail's been captured…?"
"Goodness, what in the world is happening?!"
The confusion reached its peak when they entered the castle and came face-to-face with an elderly attendant, who was pale and shaking.
"L-Lord Zakail!" the old man stammered, his eyes darting between the gagged Zakail and the others. "Not long ago, Lord Z-Z-Zachlis returned and was waiting for you, but... what on earth...?"
"Zachlis is here?" Devran shouted out loud.
"That's good. Where is he now?"
The attendant nodded frantically. "He's... i-in the parlor."
"Let's go."
Without hesitation, they headed to the parlor. The room, where Yuder and his team had dined that morning to Zakail's annoyance, now contained a man pacing anxiously. He wore silver armor, his appearance strikingly similar to Zakail's, though his demeanor was far kinder.
Zachlis, upon noticing the sudden flood of people he was startled and when spotting Devran and Dermilla, he froze. His eyes widened in disbelief.