"Unless you've been observing this devil for quite some time, in an attempt to succeed your scheme to murder Lord Yindas. Am I wrong, Head Villager Heerys?"
The unforeseen accusation… out of the blue, out of the azure… was thrown towards a man experiencing his early stage of his senescence. A face that wasn't supposed to be wrinkled, maybe the cause wasn't merely from his age alone which gnawed his life-span, but instead the daily life pressure and the tension from inside his mind, as cold sweat was seen running down his wide forehead, proceeding to change the course once the nasal bridge was on its way down, moisturizing the cheeks before passing his oral commissure and dripping through his pointed chin before wetting the wooden floor below. Many varieties of conditions that motivated cold sweat to produce itself even in low amount of quantity, but it was mostly associated with the response of 'fight or flight',
Either to run away or to get hurt,
Either to deny the accusation, or to get hurt for his vindication,
His body's response however, already showed the absolute and undeniable answer,
Abnormally pale skin and high-rate pulses,
Rapid breathing and dilated pupils,
Everything began with a muffled, anxious laugh, echoing in the shadowy corner of this cold room,
"With all due respect, Lord Kharys – the Scion of Holy Knight. Your discernment and divulgence would be illogical to say that I am the murder of Lord Yindas. It's quite an absurd accusation, for I have no power nor reason to commit such a risky scheme."
Because the more time had passed, and stronger still was the silence rolling in to fill the gap in the void of the moonlight after the sudden, unexpected accusation coming out of the mouth of quite an important figure whom many regarded as the adherent of egalitarianism, the accusation would only weigh more on the man's shoulders – a man whose name known as Heerys, who also served as the chief of a small village situated on the edge of the dense forest that happened to be the starting point of two important incidents,
No more 'fight or flight', for Heerys was unable to 'flight' from this difficult situation, nor could he 'fight' in his defense because it was near impossible to read the facial expression of the silver figure whose face was hidden beneath that thick silver helmet of his… let alone to comprehend the inside of his mind,
"You're right, Head Villager." bathed under the azure moonlight that shone his silver armor even more, Kharys began to respond, "You do have no power," while carrying his black greatsword, he approached the crucified family and stopped on top of the cryptic syllabary of melted wax before proceeding to thrust the huge weapon right into the runes until half of its stygian metal was planted into the bloody wooden floor,
Such an incomprehensible move for the layman's mind to comprehend. The purpose was unclear and seemed enigmatic and his blinks became so rapid and difficult to count as a result, waiting and watching patiently yet apprehensively to know on what basis did the Holy Knight dare to accuse him for. Regardless of what was that might be, the silver figure appeared daring to risk his own eminence in this sophistication instead,
"Did you know, Head Villager?" standing next to his embedded greatsword, Kharys began to voice his elucidation, "When the bonds between the runes are broken, physically changing the surface on which they were written, just like the human's vein, 'bleeding' will occur because the circulation system of the rune's body that carrying energy is already 'injured' by a 'minor wound'. Following the known theory, these runes should've been bleeding and leaking its wild energy throughout the room. After all, it is one of drawbacks for using physical rune instead of the psychic one."
Expecting a straightforward explanation, all of a sudden the Holy Knight explained a common knowledge that was supposedly used widely in many magic academies. Although his explanation may seem obscure and vague, because the conclusion of this brief moonlight discussion may appear dark—may appear gloomy. The end of the crimson thread may be able to forecast, especially the man hidding in the shadow who looked even more jittery and uneasy when the Holy Knight was about to continue his thought about it… as if the man indeed was hiding something no one should've peeked into.
"Here's the thing, though," Kharys continued, grabbing and pulling the black greatsword from the wooden floor, "Light Piercer's ability is not only to absorb all visible light to empower itself, but also to absorb the very nature of magical energy. No matter how thin or faint the concentration might be, Light Piercer will always be able to detect it by its starry surface which will begin to twinkle like a little star."
The points were already made and outright spoken loudly, divulging the classified fact of such a powerful relic in order to reveal another veiled fact that was buried deeply inside the mind of a man who looked even more agitated now as his muscles were trembling and his cold sweat showing not any sign to stagnate any time soon—if anything, it was his own cold sweat that froze him in place—because it clearly was visible under the azure light, that the starry surface of Light Piercer did not twinkle like a little star, meaning the rune imprisoning the resting family was only a mere painting to begin with… a bloodstained painting which dedicated to the 'unwitting devil',
Yet the man insisted on fight instead flight, as he kept denying it because if the reason was based merely on that, it wouldn't be enough to drop the blame on him,
"So you wanted to say that the runes weren't created by the devil, am I wrong, Lord Kharys?" Heerys smiled to keep himself steady and calm, balancing the leftover serenity inside his mind and body, "But for someone approaching his old age, and know nothing about magical or arcane work, knew only of how to lead a small village on the edge of the continent… it was an impossible task for me. After all, if the runes were indeed not created by a devil or its similar kin… there are still many possibility of the third party intervention who knows the working of this kind of thing."
Even if everything the man said seemed reasonable enough, judging from his background and prosopography, the possibility was near zero; there was simply no supporting knowledge or experience to execute a scheme like drawing a magical rune, except from the external sources that formed the silver figure's strong hypothesis. Moreover, an in-depth observation of the room led the silver figure to find a thing or two that made him even more certain of the current situation,
"A book," Kharys calmly responded back, about to destroy the head villager's stubborn denial, "There's a book that explains and describes that sort of things here."
"I beg your pardon, Lord Kharys… b-but that's still quite absurd, don't you think?" unyielding to keep on denying, the head villager, Heerys, never ceased to keep on defending himself, "Because there are thousands of such books in this very room, and I know nothing about the content of each book. Therefore, how am I to know about the book in question?"
"Because Lord Yindas had been observing this devil too."
Without a moment's hesitation, the silver figure immediately launched a verbal counterattack. This time, however, for the desperate man, the hurdle had reached the point of impossibility—a direct consequence of his own iniquity and miscalculation,
Reaching his final deduction, the silver figure went on to interfere with the man's rebuttal on behalf of so-called self-defense. This was because anything the man might want to say after the following cessation would be considered obstruction of justice for perjury, as well as making false statements to the on-duty official—a position now occupied temporarily by the Holy Knight as the agent of order,
"You came to this mansion last night in the witching hour where nothing to light your path but the starry skies and its lingering moon…"
Kharys stopped for a moment to take a short breath while looking at the large window overlooking the dense forest bathing beneath the skies—which eerily were similar to yesterday's night skies when the bloody ritual happened,
"…right… under the same skies like now…"
He then continued, turning his silver-plated face toward the anxious-looking man,
"…living under the shelter of such a huge mansion which was occupied by three individuals of a small familiy; surrounded by nothing but clusters of large trees as silent eyewitnesses, the bait was, unfortunately, worked. Lord Yindas was interested in your offer thus welcoming you into his room."
Nothing to say right now, for the head villager simply showed his dumbfounded expression beyond the corner shadow,
"Then… then this happened," Kharys continued, staring at the brutally crucified family whose pool of blood had dried and was exposed to the radiation of the cyanic light, attending the scene of a sad ending—both the sad end for last night and tonight, "Everything went according to your plan… finishing off his whole family was also a necessary move to take advantage of that slight moment when the devil seemingly had risen from hell. Given that you already knew Lord Yindas' intention was to build such an accommodation in this remote place, you began your search for a ritualistic book that could pass the blame onto the devil. The whole night was more than enough for you to find and prepare this entire farce of a bloody ritual."
The silver figure slowly turned, walking toward the window behind the desk, overlooking the front garden, "This window is facing the way where the sun rise, hence it's almost impossible for the two servants who came to this mansion long before dawn to notice the blood stain. Except when it enters dusk," he then turned his silver-plated face to the large window in the opposite position, "Where the dusk skies emitting its last crimson ray for that day… a color resembles blood thus allowing it to be noticed easier."
Walking away from the window, the silver figure tracked his path back toward the speechless man… could only glare at the Holy Knight with this intense and 'blackened aura' around him… as if he was trying to think of an alternative way or word to diminish the unfavorable ambience for him,
"They came here on schedule, finding that the front door was unlocked, yet didn't grow any suspicion because of how safe and peaceful the surrounding environment was, where wild animals durst not to approach any settlement—more so, this place was built on a quite remote part of the village… as stated by you…"
Keeping his pace as he came near the silent man, Kharys found himself drowning inside the moon's penumbra as well, in order to obtain a clear view of the man's facial reaction as his deduction continued,
"…two living humans in this large, maze-like mansion surely left many gaps for you to sneak out quietly without alerting anyone, after you had stayed pretty much the whole night… sacrificing and preparing in a room that's forbidden for anyone but Lord Yindas himself to enter… leaving the rest of the scheme to play out by itself until what you've just told me earlier."
"Th-that's quite the story, Lord Kharys. Now that one surely sounds like it makes more sense if I really was the murderer," the anxious-looking man, Heerys, showed an uncanny smile, which was then followed by a halting speech, "I may have been observing this devil in order to protect my village, but that doesn't mean I killed Lord Yindas and his family. Everything you just said is merely based on a book that might be among these thousands. There is a possibility that anyone—even outsiders—could know of such things, because that knowledge can be found anywhere on the continent and used to execute the exact same ritual to commit the murder."
"That's exactly what I thought before, Head Villager. That's why I came here—to attest to the truth myself, because I didn't want to believe the otherwise… that the devil is, in fact, innocent…"
The silver figure fell silent for a moment, taking a deep breath as he placed his black greatsword back onto his large back, indicating that this whole ordeal would soon meet its resolution—an anticlimactic ending.
"…Lord Yindas was a secretary of defense. His work always revolved around arcane weapons and magical items, including this rune in this very room. The purpose of this rune is indeed to attract the demon kin by offering a human body—replacing one's heart with a wicked one by ripping open the chest, cutting through skin and bones. Crucifixion and drowning in one's own blood. Everything perfectly matches the condition of the family, and everything is written in that book. Sadly, however, this book isn't your typical encyclopedia or almanac that can be found in nearly all libraries and academic institutions, for this kind of information is considered classified. Moreover, it is more a form of a 'scrapbook,' written by Lord Yindas himself from sources only known to him."
By that single clarification alone, it already showed that such information and knowledge regarding this rune was hard to come by, both through an academy nor any institute, let alone a public library. There was no way in the world for any common folk happened to come across such a book… unless someone who came into this room filled with thousands of books containing similar knowledge and information,
And what the silver figure was about to say would confirm further that the head villager once set his foot inside this very room, hence all the guilt naturally fell upon him,
"And within that old scrapbook," Kharys continued, "I found bits of information detailing my other weapon," all of a sudden, out of nowhere, a bright white-colored greatsword appeared in his grip, surprising the head villager and making him even more agitated, "I'm quite sure you're familiar with this artifact. A white blade, whiter than milk—one of the Divine Artifacts that shoots divine light from the heavens. It's all written in that old scrapbook, making it also some of the most classified information."
Unable to even spit a word out of his dry lips, the head villager's face looked even more paler; and even the shadow was rendered helpless to hide such a pale color with its dark appearance,
"After my fight with the devil, you mentioned a pillar of light that was seen from afar as the Divine Light, didn't you, Head Villager? For a common folk who serves as an ordinary village chief, your knowledge is surprisingly quite vast, in contrast with what you have just claimed… because other villagers may refer to that pillar of light simply as magic or sorcery, no matter what form it might be in actuality, because it's easier for them. Yet you, without any hesitation, referred to it as the Divine Light."
How the tables have turned—from his role as part of the victims to the prime suspect… the words blurted out of the man's lips had indeed delivered karma to him,
"Care to explain that 'sudden thought' of yours, Head Villager Heerys?"