Chapter 595: Chapter 595: The Arrested Devil

Chapter 595: The Arrested Devil

"Mark, stop hesitating. You were born to be the heir of this place. This is the legacy your father left for you. It will always be yours."

"Enough, Frank."

The young man named Mark gripped the whip in his hand, looking at the flocks of sheep in the distance and the endless green pastures. He clenched his teeth and remained silent.

But if one observed carefully, they would discover a chilling truth—there was no one around him.

Mark Brown was the rightful heir to this fertile land and its herds.

More than a decade ago, his father, Tommy Brown, was still a serf. But Tommy joined the Ember Kingdom, gradually becoming a low-ranking officer and seizing this land and its herds from the northern nobility.

But the good times didn’t last. Due to old wounds from the battlefield, his father soon passed away, leaving behind a seven-year-old Mark and his mother to depend on each other.

Such a large ranch could not be managed by just a woman and a half-grown child. Soon, an uninvited guest arrived at their home—a man called Gordon Grey, Mark’s stepfather.

What made Mark even more displeased was that Gordon and his mother soon had a baby boy named Theodore Grey, who was deeply loved.

Theodore, the child blessed by the gods, the very name reflected the love his parents had for him.

Listening to the baby’s endless crying through the night and watching the joyful faces of his mother and stepfather, Mark clenched his fists, feeling indescribably despondent, as if he were nothing more than a stranger in his own home.

Not long after, his mother, weakened by years of abuse from the former slave masters, fell ill and seemed to be on her last days.

Once his mother passed, Mark would lose his last blood relative in the world, leaving only the estranged stepfather full of barriers between them.

"Could it be that my father’s ranch... will one day belong to the Grey family?" Looking at the familiar grasslands and crowded sheep, Mark sighed quietly.

He had been sitting by the haystack for half the day. The sky had turned pitch black. Mark wanted to go back to the house his father left him but didn’t want to face his unfamiliar stepfather.

"Mark, haven’t you figured it out yet? If you keep hesitating and showing mercy, you will end up as a slave of the Grey family."

A hissing, grating voice echoed in Mark’s ear—it was that voice again.

After his father’s death, Mark had become extraordinarily withdrawn, with few friends in the village, often weeping alone in the middle of the night.

But his stepfather and mother poured almost all their attention on that newborn child—Mark’s ’brother,’ completely unaware of his suffering.

But in recent months, Mark had made his only confidant—a friend with ragged wings and red skin, named Frank.

Except for Mark, it seemed no one else could see Frank, not even his mother or stepfather.

At first, Mark was wary of this self-proclaimed wish sprite, keeping his guard up.

But over time, feeling neglected by his family, Mark confided all his frustrations to Frank. Their conversations grew more frequent, eventually becoming inseparable.

"Frank, no matter what, they are still my family. I can’t treat them like this." Mark’s voice trembled, his gaze vacant.

But Frank leaned close to Mark’s ear, whispering in that sharp voice: "Family? Do they really treat you like family? Think about it, Mark. The ranch, the house, the sheep, even your mother’s affection—all of it should belong to you!"

"And now? You’re nothing more than a slave managing their ranch!"

Frank’s sharp, venomous taunts pierced Mark’s heart like a blade coated with poison.

"No, impossible!"

Mark shook his head repeatedly, suddenly flinging away Frank’s clawed hand that brushed his cheek, squatting by the haystack, clutching his head.

He choked out, "No... no... I still have my mother. She won’t abandon me. She’s always loved me."

Frank flapped his tattered wings, flying around Mark, patting him on the shoulder with his red claws, as if to comfort him.

"Mark, I understand your feelings, but have you ever thought about why your mother got so sick so suddenly? Think, Mark. If your mother dies, who benefits the most?"

"Your father’s hard-earned legacy—the sheep, the pastures, the house—who do you think will take it all?"

And so, under Frank’s ’gentle persuasion,’ Mark, with tears in his eyes, whispered the name he didn’t want to utter.

"Gordon Grey."

"To be more precise, your little brother—Theodore Grey. Tsk tsk, the ’child blessed by the gods.’ What an ambitious name."

Frank let out a hoarse laugh and continued, "In the face of such easy benefits, even a wife’s life is insignificant.

Think about it, Mark. Once your mother is poisoned to death, Gordon Grey can openly occupy your house, possess your herds, and pass all the property to Theodore.

And you? You would just be a servant for the Grey family."

Hearing the horrifying scene depicted by Frank, Mark trembled with rage, his moist eyes bloodshot. "No, these are my father’s belongings! He traded his life for them!"

"Yes, little Mr. Brown," Frank said excitedly, using this unfamiliar title.

"You should pick up your weapon. Before they make a move on you, kill that damned invader and his wretched spawn."

But hearing Frank’s suggestion, Mark still felt fear. For an ordinary shepherd boy, killing someone was too terrifying.

"B-but... it’s a crime! The Imperial Security Forces won’t let me go."

"Crime?"

Frank leaned closer, his expression full of disdain: "You are defending your own property! You are protecting your father’s honor and your own home! Even the judges of the gods would never see you as guilty!"

"But..."

Mark curled up beside the haystack, his face a mix of anger, worry, and terror.

Frank continued to fuel the fire, his voice full of righteous indignation: "Do you want to bring shame to your father? He was a hero who defeated the northern nobles, and you, Mark, I must have misjudged you. I thought you had the courage to protect your land, but it seems you’re just a coward who can only watch as your home is taken over bit by bit, and your mother grovels before another man."

"Enough!"

Mark suddenly stood up, shouting. For the first time, his young face showed a viciousness that had never been there before.

Frank was overjoyed. He climbed onto Mark’s shoulder, praising him repeatedly: "Face it all head-on. That is the act of a true warrior. Kill those who have wronged you, every last one of them!"

"I will not bring shame to my father. I want to be a hero like him and protect my home."

Mark gritted his teeth, muttering to himself. He picked up the pitchfork stuck in the haystack, turned around, and looked toward the now-dark house.

It was clear—the invader and his wretched spawn were already asleep, sleeping soundly in the house his father left for him.

The moon hung high, stars scattered across the sky, and the breeze was gentle.

Now\... was the perfect opportunity.

Mark strode forward, heading towards the house his father left him. The young shepherd had made up his mind to use the pitchfork in his hand to clear away everything—even if it would bring terrifying consequences.

Standing at the doorway of the old house, Mark took a deep breath, summoning his courage. He told himself in his heart that he was not wrong; he was only defending his home.

"Go on, Mark. Do what you need to do. There’s nothing wrong with it."

Frank’s voice echoed in his ears, giving Mark an added sense of confidence. He carefully pushed open the door.

"Creak—"

He silently entered the room, looking at his treacherous mother, greedy stepfather, and the infant child. Mark’s hands trembled as he slowly raised the pitchfork.

"Think of all the suffering you’ve endured. Kill them. Kill them."

Frank’s voice grew more excited, like the cheering of a crowd, pushing Mark closer to the edge.

He remembered the countless nights of silent tears, the hostile gazes, and the cold indifference of his mother—whether intentional or unintentional.

Thinking of all this, Mark no longer hesitated.

"This is what you deserve."

Whispering softly, Mark held his breath and slowly closed his eyes—

"Stop!"

The room suddenly flooded with light, turning night into day. His stepfather, mother, and the newborn all woke up in shock.

"Mark, what are you doing?!" His mother’s scream echoed.

At that moment, Mark was like a balloon that had been popped; all the courage he had painstakingly gathered to kill drained away instantly.

"Quick, kill them! This is your last chance!"

Frank urged desperately, but Mark seemed soulless, his legs shaking as he slowly turned around.

"W-what..."

Behind him stood several fully armed Tiefling soldiers, rifles gleaming in their hands, the emblem on their chests shining brightly.

—It was the symbol of the Ember Empire that Mark had always longed for.

The Tiefling at the front aimed his rifle at the sky and pulled the trigger, the sound ringing out sharply.

"Bang!"

"Imperial Guard business! By order of His Majesty, we are here to arrest the devil who entered the Empire without permission! All unrelated individuals, leave at once!"

"He’s... a devil?"

Mark turned his head to look at the ’wish sprite’ with red skin. At that moment, Frank’s face had twisted into something grotesque.

Only then did he realize that his close companion was a terrifying being, and he had almost been seduced by a devil to commit an unforgivable crime.

"Ignorant mortal!"

The ’wish sprite,’ who had once seemed like an innocent child, now transformed with a hideous grin as his body expanded and his features grew monstrous.

A blood-red aura surrounded Frank, filled with malevolent and terrifying energy.

"Ah!"

"By Cassius’s name, what is that?!"

Mark collapsed to the ground in fright, while his mother and stepfather panicked. The newborn brother screamed incessantly, almost fainting from shock.

"Fear me, mortals! I am Lord Frank, your nightmare!"

Seeing their terror, the devil spoke with pride, seemingly trying to scare off the Tieflings.

However, the Tiefling captain standing at the front remained expressionless, unmoved, and simply stared coldly at the devil before him.

He spoke with a chilling tone: "A mere little devil dares to deceive the Imperial Guard? Truly, you have a death wish."

The Tiefling wasted no time, raising his rifle and firing without hesitation. The runic-engraved bullets shot from the barrel, barely grazing the little devil.

"Ah!"

Frank clutched his burned arm, letting out a shrill scream, his face full of terror.

He knew now—he had been completely seen through by these devil-spawned Tieflings!

Frank’s arrogance vanished instantly. He hurriedly raised his hands, grinning awkwardly. "You are devil-blooded too! We are kin! These mortals are merely our livestock. How about this, I help you contact the lords of the Nine Hells..."

The Tiefling captain cut him off coldly: "Enough! We are the proud servants of His Majesty Cassius, with Dragonblood flowing in our veins. We have nothing to do with filthy devils like you! You have only two choices: surrender or die!"

Just then, with a faint popping sound, a cloud of blood-red smoke appeared where Frank had stood, and the little devil vanished, leaving behind only a piercing curse.

"You damned mongrels! (Infernal Language)"

The Tieflings were not alarmed; they merely smirked and turned around. Soon, they heard a desperate scream.

"Ah!"

At the doorway, the invisible little devil had crashed into the pre-set [Evil Barrier], revealing his form, scorched and blackened all over.

The Tiefling nodded toward the outside, saying loudly, "Thank you for your assistance, Count Charlotte."

"It’s nothing. Just serving the Empire."

A robed man waved his hand and pulled back his hood, revealing a bright and cheerful smile.

He opened a burlap sack, using Mage Hand to lift the half-burned little devil with a look of satisfaction. "You are under arrest, devil Frank."

"Let me out! You arrogant mortals!"

The little devil was imprisoned in a cage like a bird, pounding against its bars to no avail.

And across the Empire, similar events were unfolding. Devils from Hell were powerless before the Empire’s empowered servants.

Medrolash, the Imperial Duke and head of the Tiefling Guard, established an Exorcism Task Force, summoning players across the Empire to search for traces of devils and capture them one by one.