Ascension Of The Villain-Chapter 290: Start The Trial

A prophecy had been dismissed, shelved by the former emperor as nothing significant. But now… now it has manifested itself like a bone stuck in their throats. What a threat Vyan must have been all along for him to be mentioned in something as groundbreaking as a prophecy from the Goddess.

Easton had been right to point his finger at Vyan, accusing him of being the man with flames of wrath in his heart. But they had dismissed it. They didn't recognize that flicker of something beneath Vyan's quiet eyes, the stillness before the storm. And now, here it was. Unleashed. Raw. Raging.

But none of that mattered anymore. It was too late for regrets now.

Even Easton could do nothing now. He was a mere captive. He would just be lucky to just get out of this mess alive.

Easton currently had a blade pressed to his throat like his parents, but unlike them, he wasn't trembling. His face was blank, eyes glazed. Like he couldn't care a bit about what was unfolding. He was just… existing.

It was odd.

He wasn't even speaking for his father when he had always been so loyal to him. They all thought he would at least try to voice out something. But he hadn't.

Little did they know that he couldn't. Obviously, setting aside the fact that he was Sienna's puppet.

He wasn't simply being held by a sword. He was under a restraining spell. A quiet and powerful spell kept him paralyzed. Cast by Vyan without even a gesture.

The same was the case for Sienna.

Sienna knelt beside Easton, her head bowed low, eyes hidden beneath the cascade of her light brown hair. She hadn't looked up once. She hadn't uttered a word.

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Well, she simply couldn't. Even their mouths were clamped shut. Vyan couldn't risk her murmuring any curses or summoning her pet demons.

Clyde stepped forward, his fingers moving as if tuning an invisible instrument. "I am beginning the projection, Your Grace."

A moment later, the wall behind the thrones shimmered, forming a massive screen of translucent light. The image flickered for a second, then steadied. The heart of the capital plaza lit up in sync.

On the other side, seeing an unexpected visual opening up in the plaza wall, the common folks who had been too busy bargaining, eating, or playing around stopped. They couldn't figure out what was going on, but they were curious, so they watched intensely.

Having their attention, Vyan exhaled softly and walked toward the center of the Grand Hall, boots tapping against polished marble that now reeked faintly of ash and blood.

He offered a smile to the audience, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Well, then," he drawled, now turning toward the nobles. His voice was light and low, yet it echoed like thunder, "shall we start the trial now?"

As if on cue, one of the tall doors at the edge of the Grand Hall creaked open.

Several Tower mages—disheveled, bloodied, and handcuffed—were dragged in by imperial knights. Behind them, a few broken, bruised soldiers stumbled forward, flanked tightly by guards. And with them walked Vice-Commander Elijah.

They were forced to their knees before the Empress.

"Speak," Elijah commanded, his voice cruel and absolute unlike his usual soft, gentle tone. He had been entrusted by his boss to take care of these people, and he wasn't going to fail her expectations. "The truth. All of it. Now."

One of the old mages cracked. His shoulders trembled, and tears spilled down his grime-streaked face. He gasped through sobs as he blurted, "Your Imperial Majesty, please forgive us! It's true… we—We broke the Forest of Beast's barrier. We created a crack, let the monsters in… and framed His Grace for it. It was all under His Imperial Majesty's orders."

His voice trembled with shame. "We had no choice. We couldn't go against the emperor. We—Even though His Grace was always good to us. Even though he treated us with so much kindness and care. Even though he never looked down on us and treated us as his own… we couldn't help it. We—we lied and betrayed him. We told everyone that only His Grace was capable of messing around with such a powerful barrier, although it was clearly a lie. Creating a crack in the barrier is actually very easy to do from the inside. But we… we presented it as if it was an impossible task, only capable of being done by the Grand Duke. This guilt—it has been eating away at us for years. But we couldn't… we couldn't come forward with the truth because we knew that His Imperial Majesty would've harmed our families. We're truly ashamed of what we did."

Gasps echoed across the room. But Elijah wasn't done making them confess.

He kicked the kneeling knights forward, eyes burning. "Your turn. Speak."

One of the knights clenched his jaw, then lowered his head. "Your Imperial Majesty, sixteen years ago, after the day the late Grand Duke and Duchess were arrested, we were given a secret task. We were ordered to raid the Ashstone estate in the dead of the night and massacre everybody who stood in our way to… kill the youngest son of the family." He paused, his voice faltering. "And to bring the eldest son back alive."

A wave of stunned whispers rippled through the nobles.

"Bring the eldest son—?"

"Does that mean…?"

"Is the eldest son of Ashstone alive?!"

"Yes," Vyan spoke up calmly, and for the first time, his voice softened. Not in pity, but with a pain too long buried. "My brother is alive."

As the words sank in, another door opened.

Every noble turned toward it, every breath in the room suspended.

It wasn't just one unexpected figure who entered. But two.

Sir Raith, the valiant Aura knight long thought dead from the explosion last month, strode in. There even was a funeral held for him. He was offered so much respect to have died on the line of duty protecting their monarch. But here he was now. He looked strong and sturdy as he pushed a wheelchair.

And in that chair sat a boy, no—a young man, bone-skinned and pale as a white sheet, his features unmistakably familiar. The same fire-kissed hair as their third empress, Celeste. The same sharp features as the late Grand Duchess Natalia Audrey Ashstone. The same wine-red eyes as the late Grand Duke Xandres Keven Ashstone.

Aster Stephen Ashstone had returned.

Chaos erupted.

"How is he alive?"

"That's unmistakably Aster Stephen Ashstone! He looks like the splitting image of His Grace."

"And Sir Raith too... Didn't he lose his life? What's going on?"

The captain of the Aura knights, snarled from across the hall, his eyes locked on Raith like a predator betrayed. It took five imperial knights and Iyana herself standing firm to keep Wyatt restrained. His fury was palpable. His devotion to Edgar was blinding. And he definitely felt betrayed. Raith was one of his favorite subordinates and he was so hurt at his death.

And here he was now. Completely fine. Unhurt. Yet, he didn't bother to let his captain know. Not only that, he was betraying the person they swore to protect with their lives. It was a disgrace to their knighthood.

What did the grand duke do to him to make him turn sides like this?