Chapter 139

Xain stared into the featureless mask of The Fiend. *How the heck does he see out of that thing?* he wondered. The Fiend stood frozen, unable to respond. How long had it been since they talked like normal people in a non-dangerous or tense situation? Despite this, The Fiend couldn't bring himself to communicate. He had dreamed of a situation like this, albeit under better circumstances, and yet his hands didn't move, unable to write or make signs. He was too afraid of what Xain might think of him. He still remembered the time when Xain and Malvin saw him murdering that man, Xain's eyes filled with fear and Malvin's eyes filled with hostility. How could he speak to Xain again? Xain, someone who always helped and saved people (while also being a thief), while he had committed so many crimes for his own gain. Xain noticed The Fiend's hesitation and stiffness. He couldn't help but wonder, *Why is he so reluctant to speak to me? What did I do to make him hesitant!?* Still thinking he had done something that managed to creep out The Fiend.

Zee, who had left to get Lance and Marcus until now, saw the two of them talking and panicked, quickly coming to Xain's side. "Aren't you still injured, Xain?" she asked, her words fast.

Xain turned to her and inspected his broken arm. "I guess I am, but I'm fine. I've had worse," he replied. *And besides, you're very clearly trying to divert my attention,* he thought, seeing through Zee's attempt easily. Lying wasn't her strong suit after all.

Ignoring his words, Zee grabbed him by the arm—his broken arm. Pain shot up through Xain as he froze dramatically, the adrenaline from before now worn off, making him acutely aware of how truly broken his arm was. "See, I knew you weren't okay!" Zee insisted, giving The Fiend a sneaky wink. However, due to her inability to wink subtly, she just blinked at him, which worked out in her favor as Xain couldn't tell she had winked.

"Now come on, let's get you to Grace. She'll help you!" Zee said, about to drag Xain by his broken arm.

"But she said she can't hea—" Xain's words were cut off mid-sentence as Zee pulled him away, causing him to freeze in pain once more.

The Fiend watched this unfold and let out a silent sigh of relief. There would be a time to reveal his identity, but now was not that time. He gave Xain one last look, a light smile curling up under his mask, before walking away and back to his bike.

While all this was happening, Verandez looked up at what was once his mansion, now lying in bloody ruin. The roof was practically nonexistent, torn apart by the chaos that had unfolded. The very foundation had been shattered, with the bottom floor destroyed beyond recognition. All the upper floors had gaping holes in the walls, shattered windows, and destroyed hallways. Rooms were torn apart, their contents strewn about in a violent display of destruction. Nothing could fix this mansion, not without immense effort and resources. (Well, Grace could using light magic, but she wasn't going to do that.)

Verandez sighed deeply, the weight of his family's crumbling legacy heavy on his shoulders. "But I'm too poor to do that either," he muttered. His family had been poor for about a decade, their riches nothing more than smoke and mirrors, an illusion to maintain respect. The coin he had used to hire mercenaries had all come from Eriza, and was most likely fake anyway. "What should I do?" he muttered, holding his head in his hands.

"Come live in Wolfdale," a voice suggested. Verandez's eyes widened slightly as he turned to see the demon.

"How can I do that? They hate me, for good reason too," Verandez said with a sigh, looking down at the ground. "Even if I wasn't in control, I was the one who physically did the summoning." He still felt guilty despite being called innocent so many times.

"I mean, we can just explain what actually happened," Elanor interjected. Verandez turned to see him. "Look, I won't lie, I absolutely despised you, thinking you were the reason my friends died," Elanor admitted, rubbing his arm before taking a deep breath. "But that was before I knew the truth. You weren't to blame. This isn't some case of you being drunk or on some drugs; you were controlled by a demon. Whether or not you physically did it doesn't matter in this case. You're another victim. You're innocent," he said softly.

The demon nodded in agreement. "What Elanor said is right. And even after hearing that, if you still feel guilt, then make amends and pray for forgiveness. There's no point in drowning oneself in pity."

Verandez paused, looking between the two of them before rubbing his face and letting out a sigh. "You're right. Ha, you're really a lot like him, you know?" he said, looking at the demon.

"Are you speaking of Levarick?" the demon asked, tilting its head slightly.

"Yeah, though he was a bit more cheerful, I guess. Always there when you needed him the most, always there to pat you on the back and make sure you weren't alone. That's the type of guy he was," Verandez said with a small smile forming on his face. He pulled out a withered pocket watch with the initials L. D. delicately etched on the back. "This was his watch. He gave it to me so that we're never apart, or whatever sappy thing he said. Always treating me like a little brother despite me being the older one."

Elanor also reminisced about Levarick and his unwavering kindness. "Hmm, I suppose I have large shoes to fill," the demon said, rubbing its chin.

Verandez turned to Elanor. "Oh, and thank you for your kind words as well, miss," he said, thanking him.

Elanor felt a vein pop in annoyance. "Never mind, they should have killed you to stop the invasion," he muttered, irritation evident in his tone.

Making Verandez recoil from the sudden change in attitude.