Chapter 259: Show Me The Evidence!

Julius, meanwhile, stood frozen like a cornered animal.

Sweat poured down his face. His hands shook. His legs felt like they might give out at any moment.

He knew he had to say something. He had to disrupt this line of reasoning before it went any further. Luca was painting a picture that was far too accurate, far too close to the truth.

He opened his mouth.

But Luca glanced at him.

Just one glance. Nothing more. No words, no threats, no movement. Just a single, cold look.

Julius’s mouth snapped shut. He looked down at the ground, unable to meet those eyes.

Luca snorted softly and turned back to the crowd.

“If you use what I’ve said as the context for everything…”

He continued, his voice steady and commanding.

“…a lot of things will start to make sense.”

“Things that seemed confusing before will suddenly click into place.”

He looked at Leona.

“Take the projection, for example. Leona, you said you felt your father’s aura in it. That it felt real. And you were right, because it was real. Your father really did create that projection before his death.”

“But it wasn’t to give you advice, or to share wisdom, or to bless your ascension.”

His eyes turned cold.

“It was to create a narrative. He needed everyone to believe that he had been possessed by an evil spirit, that he wasn’t in control of his actions and something else was driving him.”

“So he recorded that projection to look like a man possessed, ranting and raving like a vengeful ghost.”

Leona’s eyes shimmered. She had never considered that possibility.

“You also mentioned that you begged him to calm down, to listen to you, but he wouldn’t respond. He just kept ranting, kept shouting, kept blaming you.”

“At the time, you thought he was simply too overwhelmed to hear you.

Luca paused and added,

“But what if…it was just a recording?”

“What if he couldn’t respond because there was no one there to respond? He wasn’t a spirit—he was a pre-recorded message, playing out exactly as he had designed it.”

The villagers murmured, realization dawning on their faces.

“And as for the spirit ’possessing’ Julius.” Luca continued. “That could have been easily arranged as well.” He turned to Leona. “That night, under the holy tree…was Julius standing in a specific spot? Did he refuse to move from that spot?”

Leona’s eyes lit up. “Yes! That’s exactly what happened!”

She pressed a hand to her chest, her voice growing urgent.

“I wanted to get closer to the Holy tree. I wanted to feel my father’s presence properly. But Julius insisted that we stay back. He pulled me to a certain position and wouldn’t let me move.”

“And even while the projection was speaking—while I was stepping forward, trying to get closer—Julius stayed in that same spot. He didn’t move at all.”

Luca smiled.

“That’s because he and your father had designed the spell or the projection, or whatever they used to send the ’spirit’ to a predetermined location.”

“Julius was standing exactly where he was supposed to be. When the projection ended, the light flew directly into him.”

“It gave the appearance of possession, but it was just a carefully orchestrated trick.”

Leona’s face went pale. It made sense. It all made sense.

Luca continued, his voice growing more harsh.

“And this also explains how Julius knew so much about your father’s mannerisms.”

“Your father taught him. He probably spent days with Julius, training him, molding him, turning him into a perfect imitation.”

“And the secrets?” He let out a wry chuckle. “The family secrets, the village secrets, the private information that only your father knew?”

Luca’s voice dropped as he said,

“Your father told him everything.”

“Why would he write them down in a journal when he could just tell his chosen successor directly?”

Leona’s knees buckled. Nyx caught her arm, holding her upright.

“All of it.” Nyx whispered, her voice shaking with fury. “All of it was a lie. The possession, the curse, the ’evil spirit’—it was all just a way to hide the truth.”

“Our father wasn’t a victim of his unresolved wishes…He was the architect.”

Luca nodded slowly.

“And Julius wasn’t a victim either. He was the co-conspirator. The son your father never had.”

The crowd erupted again, their voices rising with anger and disgust.

“How could they?!”

“Those monsters!”

“Leona, we are so, so sorry. We blamed you for so long, and it was never your fault!”

Luna and Lulu clung to their mother, their faces pale with horror.

They had never known their grandfather, he had died before they were born. But hearing about him now, learning what kind of man he had been, made their blood run cold.

To think that such evil ran in their own bloodline…it was almost too much to process.

As everyone panicked at the revelations, Luca took a visible breath, composing himself.

It was a masterful shift in presence, and the effect on the crowd was immediate.

The frantic whispers died away. The villagers’ spiraling panic subsided, replaced by an almost hypnotic focus on Luca’s next words.

“I pieced this together largely from Nyx’s journals.”

Hearing this, Nyx felt a swell of pride that nearly overwhelmed her.

Those journals, the ones her father had so despised he’d burned them, that he’d mocked her for keeping had ultimately vindicated her.

They’d given her the final word, even from beyond his death. It felt like spitting on his grave.

Luca’s gaze turned to Julius, who visibly shuddered under the weight of that look.

“From those journals, I learned that you and the former patriarch were extraordinarily close. Inseparable, really. He didn’t just favor you,.he openly said it: I wish I had a son like you.”

“You were his right hand. His trusted confidant. The son he never had.”

An elderly elf nodded slowly. “It’s true. They were always together. Laughing, talking late into the night.”

“The way he looked at Julius.” Another murmured, their voice thick with dawning realization. “There was such warmth in his eyes. I never saw him look at his own family that way.”

“He was the most capable male in the village.” A third added. “It made sense he’d favor him, or so we thought.”

“But now, hearing this…it all makes terrible sense.”

Luca nodded firmly. “He was the perfect candidate because in your father’s heart, Julius was the heir he wanted. The true future Patriarch. The rightful leader of this village.”

He paced slowly, his expression darkening.

“But the Patriarch couldn’t simply hand him the throne. Not directly. He valued his bloodline above all else.”

“The village also would never accept a ’random’ male usurping power. It would destabilize everything, shatter the fragile balance between the genders, unleash chaos.”

“He knew that. And yet…”

Luca’s voice dropped, heavy with disdain.

“He couldn’t stomach handing that power to his daughter either. A woman. As if the very thought was beneath him.”

He paused, letting the tension coil tighter.

“So he devised this brilliant, monstrous plan: use his own daughter as a puppet while allowing a man he trusted to pull her strings.”

“Before his death, they sat together and mapped it all out. Every detail. From beginning to end, they planned it like two master strategists playing with the lives of everyone around them.”

Luca spread his hands, his voice dripping with mock admiration.

“I don’t know who conceived the scheme or who executed each particular part. But what I do know is that they performed flawlessly. Both of them.”

He fixed Julius with a cold stare, a sneer playing at his lips.

“Especially you. You truly outdid yourself. You took the Patriarch’s final wishes and twisted them into an instrument of control.”

“Forty years. Forty years you’ve manipulated this entire village using nothing but the shadow of a dead man and your own cunning.”

He paused, his voice dropping a chilling whisper,

“You’re a villain through and through, Julius. Utterly without redemption.”

The words hung in the air like a verdict.

Julius felt the world closing in around him.

Everyone was staring—not with confusion anymore, but with disgust. With hatred. With revulsion.

“How could he?”

“This disgusting man.”

“Get him out of our sight!”

“I hate him! I hate him so much!”

“He’s the reason everyone suffered!”

Even the children turned away from him, as if merely looking at him was contaminating.

Nyx’s eyes burned with barely contained rage, her expression promising violence if given the chance.

His own daughters looked at him with such contempt that he might have been less than human in their eyes.

But Leona’s gaze was the cruelest of all.

The realization had fully crystallized in her mind: she’d been his tool.

A woman, beneath his notice except as a vessel for his ambitions.

Despite everything, she’d harbored some small hope that her father had at least tolerated her, perhaps even cared.

But he’d discarded her the moment she’d been born female. He’d chosen Julius instead.

The cold disdain in her eyes reflected that death of hope.

Julius felt her gaze like a knife.

This was the woman he’d controlled for years, bent to his will, manipulated into compliance. And now she looked at him as if he were beneath contempt.

The anger that had been building within him suddenly exploded.

He lunged forward, his voice cracking like thunder.

“THIS IS BULLSHIT! EVERY SINGLE WORD IS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT!”

“YOU’RE TWISTING EVERYTHING TO SUIT YOUR NARRATIVE, REWRITING HISTORY TO MAKE ME THE VILLAIN!”

He advanced on Luca, his composure shattered, his eyes wild.

“You have no evidence. None! Everything you’ve said is baseless speculation and lies. If you’re so certain I colluded with the patriarch, then prove it.”

“GIVE ME EVIDENCE!”

He was shouting now, his voice hoarse.

“Stop accusing me of crimes you can’t prove! Stop poisoning these people against me without a shred of concrete proof!”

Then his expression twisted into something uglier—a sneer so grotesque, so utterly devoid of human decency, that several villagers looked away in horror at the sight of it.

“And what about the curse?” He spat. “The illness plaguing this village?”

“Are you suggesting both of us created that? Leona herself confirmed I had nothing to do with it, that I wasn’t responsible for the pain. And nine years ago, when two elves fell ill with the same sickness, mana was already scarce. Critically scarce.”

He gestured wildly, his voice taking on a note of desperate logic.

“If I were using some kind of spell to inflict suffering on the entire village, how would that have even been possible back then?!”

“Do you understand how much mana those kinds of curses require?! Even a simple light spell drains people dry these days.”

“BACK THEN? IT WOULD HAVE BEEN PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE!”

The crowd’s certainty wavered. Julius was right—they could all feel the truth in his words.

If there was a curse actively tormenting them, and Julius was already confirmed as having nothing to do with it, then how could he have possibly created it when mana was even more limited?

Seeing the doubt creeping back into their faces, Julius’s confidence surged.

He’d found his trump card, and he knew it.

“Answer me, Hero!”

He demanded, his voice dripping with contempt.

“What theory could you possibly have? What evidence can you produce to counter that?”

He spread his arms wide, like a banker demanding payment.

“Give me the evidence. Show me proof, or admit you’re just spinning tales to manipulate these people.”

His sneer returned, uglier than before.

“And if you can’t, then I suggest you shut your mouth!”

“Stop smearing my name with accusations you can’t substantiate!”

He spoke with deliberate cruelty now, each word a calculated blow.

Because despite his earlier terror, despite the village’s turning against him, Julius still had one undeniable advantage.

He was the only one with answers about the curse.

And without solving that mystery, Luca had nothing unless he wanted everyone in the village to die a gruesome death.

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