Chapter 256: Standing Before Death

Once the villagers had calmed down somewhat, their eyes red and swollen, Leona continued.

“From that moment on, two things changed in my life.”

Her voice had regained some steadiness now.

“The first…”

She paused.

“I stopped fighting the curse.”

Murmurs spread through the crowd.

“For two years before that…I tried everything. Research, experiments…I wanted to find a way to break it.”

Her gaze hardened slightly.

“But after seeing my daughters suffer…”

She shook her head.

“I gave up.”

A quiet gasp escaped someone.

“I shut my heart off completely.” She said. “I became cold…distant…harsh…I became the wall of ice you all remember.”

“I showed no emotion to anyone—not my mother, not my sister, not even my own children. I locked my heart away and threw away the key.”

The older elves nodded. They remembered.

Before Luna and Lulu were born, Leona had at least tried to be civil. She avoided people, but she wasn’t cruel.

After their birth, she became harsh, brash, almost cruel.

They had thought she was getting worse, spiraling into some dark pit of bitterness.

Now they understood.

It wasn’t bitterness. It was self-preservation. She was pushing them away because she had to. Because showing them love would hurt them.

Leona held up a second finger.

“Second, I realized that Julius couldn’t possibly be the culprit.”

That statement sent a ripple of shock through the crowd.

“What…?”

“How can that be…?”

Leona raised her voice slightly.

“Think about it!”

“Do you really think a father could do something like that?” She said, her voice earnest.

“Could any father intentionally harm his own children, children who were barely a day old just for power?”

She looked around at the crowd, her eyes desperate.

“I know the male elves have been arrogant and deceitful. I know many of them don’t care about us at all.”

“But even the worst of them…even the scum of the earth…they care about their own babies.”

Nyx’s face faltered. She wanted to argue, wanted to insist that Julius was behind everything, but she couldn’t.

The thought of a man harming his own newborn children was too horrible to contemplate. Even for Julius.

Leona seized that moment.

“That’s when I realized…” She said firmly. “…this wasn’t Julius.”

Her voice hardened.

“It was something else.”

Her eyes burned with anger.

“Something malicious. Something evil.”

She took a deep breath.

“And I concluded…that it was my father’s spirit.”

“The former Patriarch filled with resentment, hatred…a being that didn’t care about anyone.”

Her voice dropped into a final, resolute tone.

“He cursed the village.”

“And Julius…had nothing to do with it.”

The moment those words settled—

Clap…clap…clap…

Slow, deliberate clapping echoed through the clearing.

Everyone froze.

A voice followed.

Smooth. Controlled. Almost theatrical.

“Thank you, Leona…truly.”

A chill ran through the crowd.

“Thank you for defending your husband’s honor.”

All heads turned.

And there—

Walking forward with calm steps and a composed smile—

Was Julius.

There was a calm smile on his face and a look of resignation in his eyes, like a man who had been wrongly accused and was finally stepping forward to clear his name.

The crowd parted around him, villagers stepping back as if his presence carried a contagion.

Some looked at him with suspicion, others with confusion, and a few, the ones who remembered the kind healer he had once been with something almost like hope.

Julius ignored everyone’s wary gazes and walked directly to Leona, who instinctively pulled Luna and Lulu tighter against her.

Her daughters pressed into her sides, their bodies tense, their eyes fixed on their father with wary distrust.

Julius stopped a few feet away, his smile never wavering.

“I was listening the whole time.” He said, addressing the crowd now. “I heard everything Leona said about me. About what happened.”

“And I heard all of you whispering.”

He smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“I thought I was truly a goner. I thought everyone would hate me, would blame me for all of this.”

He turned to Leona, his expression softening.

“But luckily for me, I have a beautiful wife who knows me inside and out. She defended my honor. She didn’t blame me for what happened. She allowed me to regain my dignity.”

He took a step toward her, his arms opening as if to embrace her.

But Leona stepped back sharply, her eyes hardening.

Julius’s smile flickered for just a moment. Then he turned to the crowd, his arms spreading wide.

“It’s just as Leona said.” He announced. “Every word of it is true. I was attacked by the former Patriarch’s spirit. I was possessed, slowly, gradually, over time.”

Gasps went around the crowd, not expecting Julius to actually accept it, while he went on to say in a heartbroken manner,

“His influence seeped into my mind like poison, changing my thoughts, corrupting my desires, twisting me into someone I never wanted to be.”

He pressed a hand to his chest.

“In the beginning, I fought it. I tried to resist.” His voice dropped lower, almost confessional. “I went through my own nightmares, my own struggles.”

“But I was weak. I succumbed.”

He grit his teeth like he hated the fact that he lost.

“And because of that, I made horrible decisions. I hurt people. I pushed the female elves away.”

“I-I forced Leona to do things she never wanted to do.”

He let out a heavy sigh, his head bowing.

“I was a weak man. I should have fought harder. I should have resisted more. But I didn’t. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

He bent at the waist, a deep, formal bow.

“I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I’m sorry for failing all of you—especially you, Leona.”

He looked up at her with tender eyes, wet at the corners. His voice softened to nearly a whisper, though the crowd still heard every word

“I should have been by your side. I should have been your support, your partner, your husband.”

“But…I was too busy fighting my own internal battles. I failed you.”

Leona’s jaw tightened. She didn’t respond.

Julius straightened, and his expression brightened.

“…But I have good news!”

The crowd stirred.

“I’ve been fighting the patriarch’s spirit for forty years.” He held up four fingers, then let his hand fall. “It’s been a constant struggle, a war inside my mind. He’s won most of the battles.”

“But recently…I’ve been gaining ground.”

He tapped a finger against his temple.

“My resolve has grown stronger. Watching everyone suffer, seeing the pain this curse has caused—it made me want to change.”

He glanced at Leona.

“And seeing Leona today—watching her break free from her own prison, hearing her speak the truth so bravely—it gave me the courage I needed. I fought the patriarch with everything I had. And…”

“…I won.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

“The former Patriarch is gone. His spirit no longer exists in my mind. Which means—”

He paused for effect.

“The curse is broken. The doom that has loomed over this village for forty years is gone. Whatever happened in the past, we can leave it behind.”

“We can move forward into a new age, an age of hope, of healing, of new beginnings.”

He looked at Leona with affectionate eyes.

“It also means we can build our family again, Leona. I don’t have any restrictions anymore. There’s nothing holding us back.”

“We can finally become the family I’ve always wanted us to be.”

He held out his hand toward Leona, toward Luna, toward Lulu.

But Leona didn’t move. She held her daughters tighter, her eyes cold, her body rigid.

Lulu and Luna stared at their father with matching expressions of distrust. They had heard his words, understood his arguments, but something deep inside them refused to accept him.

They didn’t want anything to do with this man—victim or not.

The villagers also exchanged uncertain glances.

They didn’t know how to feel either.

Julius had been their enemy for so long—the symbol of everything wrong with the male elves, the puppet master controlling their matriarch.

And now they were supposed to accept him as a fellow victim? As someone who had finally broken free?

It was too much to process.

Julius seemed to understand. He lowered his hand and smiled.

“I know you don’t trust me. I know you’re wary. And I understand. After everything that’s happened, trust must be earned, not demanded.”

He placed his hand over his heart and said with a sincere gaze,

“But give me a chance. Watch my actions. See how I strive for this village, how I work to rebuild everything we’ve lost. Day by day, I will prove myself to you. I will earn your trust.”

He looked at each of them in turn.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness today. I’m not asking for your trust right now.”

“I’m only asking for a chance to show you who I really am, who I can be now that the curse is gone.”

The villagers murmured among themselves. It was reasonable. It was fair.

And if what Leona said was true—if Julius really had been possessed, really had been a victim—then perhaps he deserved that chance.

Leona bit her lips. Her mind was a storm of conflicting emotions.

She had just spent the last hour telling everyone that Julius was innocent, that he was a victim, that the true villain was her father’s spirit.

And now Julius was standing here, looking humble, asking for a chance.

If she refused him now, she would look like a hypocrite.

But her instincts screamed at her. Something was wrong. Something was off.

She could feel it in her bones, a deep, primal warning that she couldn’t ignore.

And shockingly, even Nyx—the biggest hater of Julius, the woman who had dreamed about chopping him into pieces, pulling out his eyeballs, and doing unspeakably horrible things to him was faltering.

She stood with her arms crossed, her brow furrowed, her hand rubbing her temples like she was trying to massage away a migraine.

One part of her screamed that this was bullshit.

That Julius was lying, that he was the cause of all this.

But the evidence was stacked against her.

Her own sister had just spent the better part of an hour explaining why Julius was not the mastermind.

Why the real villain was their father’s resentful spirit.

Why Julius was, in many ways, just another victim.

Nyx wanted to deny it. She wanted to scream that it was all a trick, a ploy, a manipulation.

But she couldn’t. Because if there was one thing Leona was not, it was a liar.

Leona had suffered in silence for forty years rather than speak a single false word. If she said Julius was innocent, then maybe…maybe he really was.

But the timing was too convenient.

The way he had appeared right after Leona’s confession, the way he had delivered his speech with such theatrical perfection—it all felt rehearsed.

Manipulated. Like a performance designed to tug at heartstrings.

She didn’t know what to believe anymore.

The rest of the villagers were no better. They shifted from foot to foot, exchanged uneasy glances, whispered behind their hands.

A few leaned toward giving Julius a chance; others glared at him with undisguised hostility.

Most simply looked exhausted—drained by the emotional upheaval of the past hour, too tired to think clearly.

And because they couldn’t come to a consensus, because the tension was too high and the stakes too great, a strange, quiet consensus began to form.

Not an agreement, exactly. More like a reluctant acceptance.

…They would give Julius a chance.

Not because they trusted him. Not because they forgave him.

But because Leona had said he was innocent, and because the alternative—continuing the hatred, the suspicion, the division seemed even worse.

They would be wary. They would watch him like hawks.

But if the curse was truly broken, if Leona could finally show affection without consequences, then maybe…just maybe…they could all start to heal.

And Julius, if he truly meant what he said, would work to earn their trust. Day by day. Action by action. He would become part of the village again—not as the shadow ruler he had been, but as a humble servant seeking redemption.

The thought left a bitter taste in everyone’s mouths.

The same elf who had caused so much suffering, who had turned their matriarch into a cold, distant shell, who had pulled the strings for four decades—he would become a sympathetic figure.

A victim.

A man who had fought his own inner demons and emerged victorious.

It felt wrong. It felt dirty. But no one could articulate why.

Meanwhile, Julius, watching the crowd, felt a surge of triumph so intense it nearly made him grin.

On the inside, he was screaming with joy!

Everything was going exactly as he had planned!

He had known Leona would eventually break. He had known the truth would come out.

And he had prepared for this moment—crafting his story, rehearsing his lines, calculating every possible variable.

And now, by playing the humble victim, he would win them back. He would worm his way into their hearts, just as he had done before.

He would become the beloved healer, the wise counselor, the trusted advisor.

Of course, he also felt a flutter of regret.

In the past, he would never have settled for this. He had been power-hungry. Ambitious.

He had believed he deserved to be king of the world. He had dreamed of ruling not just this village, but the entire continent.

But that was before Luca.

The Hero had shattered his confidence.

The Hero had killed his subordinates in the most brutal ways imaginable.

The Hero had gotten closer and closer to the truth, and Julius had felt the walls closing in. He had been genuinely, soul-shakingly terrified that he was about to die.

So when Leona began to confess, when the story unfolded and the villagers turned their eyes toward him, he had seen an opportunity. A lifeline. A way to escape with his life and his reputation intact.

He had taken it without hesitation.

And now, watching the uncertain faces of the villagers, he knew he had succeeded.

They would accept him. They would watch him, yes, but they would accept him.

And over time, as he performed his role with sincerity, they would begin to trust him again.

They would forget the past. They would embrace the future.

He would be safe.

He almost laughed out loud. He was the smartest person alive. He had cheated death. He had outmaneuvered the Hero. He had won.

He was so confident that he let his gaze drift toward Leona, toward his daughters, and felt a flicker of annoyance.

They should be grateful!

He had given them an out. He had given them a happy ending.

But instead of embracing him, they were clinging to each other like he was a threat.

’Ungrateful whores! I’ll teach you to be obedient later!’

But didn’t matter. He would win them over too, eventually. He always did.

And in that moment, the rush of it—

The sheer, overwhelming euphoria—

It surged through his veins like fire.

’I did it.’

’I actually did it.’

’I escaped—!’

’I escaped my fucking death—!’

For a fleeting second, he almost wanted to laugh.

To shout.

To proclaim his brilliance to the world.

But he held it in.

He had to.

Because the performance wasn’t over yet.

Not even close.

But then—

Just as that triumph reached its peak—

Just as he stood there, believing he had completely turned the tide—

A voice cut through the air.

Cold. Sharp. Unforgiving.

“…Really, Julius?”

The words were quiet. Not loud. Not dramatic.

But they landed like a blade.

“…Really?”

The voice came again, slower this time…heavier.

“You really think you’re going to walk away from this?”

A chill ran down his spine. His breath hitched.

“You think I’m going to let you weasel your way out of this one, you slimey bastard?”

The euphoria shattered instantly.

Gone.

Completely gone.

Replaced by something far more primal.

Fear.

Pure, suffocating fear.

Julius didn’t want to turn around.

Every instinct in his body screamed at him not to.

But he had no choice.

Slowly…

Stiffly…

He turned.

And there—

Standing a short distance away—

Was Luca.

Watching him.

No…not watching.

Staring.

His lips were curved into a smile.

But it wasn’t kind.

It wasn’t amused.

It was something far darker and sinister, almost as if he was looking at a ghoul.

And his eyes—

They were dark. Endless. Like an abyss that swallowed everything it touched.

His heart dropped.

It felt as if death itself had taken form…

And was standing right in front of him and smiling.

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