The Damned Demon

As Amelia crouched beside Ash, her heart raced with worry until she saw him slowly stand, brushing off the dust from his clothes. Relief washed over her as she remembered—this wasn't even his real body. A momentary calm settled in, only to be shattered by her own outcry.

"Dad! Are you seriously trying to kill my boyfriend?? What's wrong with you?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with disbelief and anger.

But at the same time, she was shocked to see that her parents were willing to defend that painting despite knowing what their actions would mean. Were they…

Logan's expression remained impassive, his features set in a mask of resolve as he stepped forward, his voice steady but infused with an icy firmness, "Amelia, I have never stood in your way nor ever refused you anything. But you cannot associate yourself with this man anymore. He is a sly fox who only cares about himself, and I won't let him leave until I erase some of his memories and find out who he truly is. Fortunately, he doesn't have any background we should worry about."

"You should listen to your dad, Amelia. This man reeks of greed and deceit," Isla said with a look of disgust and anger.

Shock widened Amelia's eyes; the father she knew, always warm and supportive, now seemed like a stranger wielding cold authority, while her vivacious mother seemed stern and intimidating.

Asher, brushing off the impact of the mana blast, chuckled darkly as he straightened up, "So let me get this straight. You are willing to compromise me over a traitor of our world? Does that mean you all have been colluding with the corrupted prince all along when he was alive?" His tone was mocking, disbelieving.

Logan's gaze hardened further, his voice low and menacing, "You have no idea what kind of man Cedric was. He dedicated his entire life to protecting a world that included rats like you. The real traitors are you people who find it easy to condemn him just because it's convenient, even if the truth was never clear."

"Hahahaha…" Asher's laughter grew louder, more unsettling, as if he found dark humor in Logan's defense. Amelia, caught between her father's wrath and Asher's provocations, felt a profound unease curling in her stomach, unsure of what to do when the tension in this hall was too much to bear.

"You think I came here without a plan?" Asher's smile turned devious, his eyes gleaming with a calculating edge, "I informed Rachel and even sent a message to the president of the WHA that I found some incriminating evidence in the Von Haughton estate. If, by any chance, anything was to happen to me, including traces of my mind being tampered with, then you can assume what they would be inclined to believe. You guys do know the punishment for siding with a corrupted one, right?"

Upon hearing Ash's threatening revelation, Logan and Isla's expressions morphed ominously, their eyes briefly flashing with a deadly light that chilled the atmosphere further.

"Looks like your plan won't save you from leaving this place alive," Logan growled, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through the ornate hall, carrying with it the hint of death.

"You are going to jeopardize your entire family over a stupid painting? Didn't I say I can share the reward as long as you guys cooperate? I can forget this discussion even happened," Asher retorted, disbelief etching his features as he faced the tangible wrath of Logan.

"Don't dream of it. Rats like you never stop at one and will keep gnawing at us until there's nothing left of us. So we will take our chances after dealing with you. Besides…" Logan's expression softened for a brief moment as he added, "...that painting is the only thing we have left of him, and we aren't going to let a rat steal it from us," Logan countered fiercely, his fists clenching tighter, ready to defend at any cost.

Isla moved with a speed that belied her usually calm demeanor, her figure blurring as she grasped Amelia, pulling her several feet away. Amelia, who didn't even realize her mother's swift act, struggled against her mother's iron grip,

"Mom! You have to stop dad!" Amelia cried out, her voice laced with panic and desperation.

"I am sorry, Amelia. But we can't let this man enter our lives. We have to do this for your own good, even if you might hate us for it. It's our fault for letting our love for you blind us from him," Isla replied, her tone firm yet tinged with regret, as she held her daughter securely, preventing her from intervening. She didn't want to hurt her daughter and wanted to take her away from her, but it was not an easy task to handle a grown woman without hurting her.

Just as Logan squared his shoulders, preparing for a decisive and potentially fatal move, Asher's demeanor unexpectedly softened. A warm smile replaced his defensive scowl, and his expression relaxed, "I knew it...You guys wouldn't easily give up on me..." His voice carried a mixture of pain and affection as he looked up at Logan and then glanced at Isla, while Amelia stared in stunned silence.

Logan's fists unclenched slightly, confusion flickering across his face as he processed Ash's words, "Wha...What are you talking about?" he asked, the fierceness in his tone replaced by bewilderment.

Isla's expression mirrored her husband's puzzlement, her grip loosening unconsciously on Amelia, who sill remained frozen, baffled by what Asher was trying to do.

"It's me, Uncle Logan...The boy in that painting you kept safe all this time," Asher revealed, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of pain and relief.

The revelation reverberated through the grand painting hall like a tremor, unsettling the foundations of reality Logan and Isla had known. Logan's eyes quivered uncontrollably, his face a picture of raw emotion—shock, disbelief, and an emerging sense of anguish, "No...No...Don't...You are crossing the line," he stammered, the words barely a whisper, each syllable laden with a mixture of pain and denial.

Yet the way he called him 'Uncle Logan'...it had the same familiarity and warmth to it even if the voice wasn't the same.

Isla's reaction was visceral; her grip on Amelia loosened involuntarily as she stumbled forward, her voice trembling, "What did you just say?"

Asher exhaled deeply, a sigh that seemed to carry years of burden. He glanced at the couple, his eyes reflecting a complex history, "Not even Amelia knew I was the boy in that painting because it only kept reminding me that I failed to avenge my mother. So at some point, I-"

"Started to hate it for not being able to fulfill the promise to your mother," Logan finished for him, the realization dawning slowly as his voice faded into a murmur, his entire demeanor shaking as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

Amelia had her lips part, having no idea that Asher was feeling that guilty and regretful even after he became Golden Prince.

"How...How do you know that? Cedric only told us..." Isla's voice trailed off as she continued to advance, her expression one of dawning comprehension mixed with disbelief.

Asher responded with a warm smile, an affectionate look directed at Isla, "Aunty, you already know the answer. How could I possibly know that?"

Logan's face hardened as he recalled the grim past, "We saw his corpse. We saw his body being taken away to be destroyed until they made sure not even a speck of his remains would be left behind in fear of any demonic magic he might have left on his body."

"But if I am an imposter, how would I know about the painting? It's not like I could learn that from anyone else, can I?" Asher's voice softened, a wistful nostalgia creeping into his tone as he looked between Logan and Isla, "I remember coming here as a nervous boy to take my lessons from my first mentors. I was looked down upon by almost everyone for being an orphan and a servant of the Evangelion Family trying to worm his way into the academy by taking advantage of the name I served. But you two made me feel at home even though I was no different than a street urchin to you people. You two stood up for me so many times at the risk of your own reputation and career. You two were the first to make me feel as if I had a family."

The warmth emanating from his golden eyes seemed to melt the icy shield around Logan and Isla's hearts. Their expressions softened, a mixture of past affection and present relief smoothing the creases of worry and conflict that had marred their features.

With a few hesitating steps, Logan approached him and, after a moment's hesitation, enveloped him in a bear hug, his voice choked with emotion, "How...How are you alive...son?" His arms tightened around Cedric, seeking reassurance in the physical reality of his presence—a son they thought lost to them, now miraculously returned.