Ascension Of The Villain-Chapter 255: Melted Grandfather

Vyan's gaze hardened, though his voice slipped into a tone almost dismissive, crafted to slice through suspicion. "How could I be talking about Ash," he said, letting his words hang heavy, layered with a bitterness that masked his intent, "when I watched him die right before my eyes?"

But beneath the calculated detachment, Vyan's thoughts coiled tight with worry.

The truth of Aster's survival was a flame he couldn't let anyone extinguish—not here, and certainly not with his grandfather. Eryndor's loyalty to the empire was forged in iron to the point he didn't look back on his own daughter and family in their final moments, leaving them stranded and disgraced.

So, if he suspected even a glimmer of truth, Vyan knew his grandfather wouldn't hesitate. He would turn Aster in, hand him back to the emperor like a sacrificial pawn, indifferent to the years of suffering his brother endured.

However, despite Vyan's best effort to dismiss the question, Eryndor didn't buy it. "No, there is a possibility that Aster didn't die that day," he said at last, a faint tremor in his voice. "I didn't see Aster's body in the coffin later on."

Vyan's mask slipped for just a heartbeat as he narrowed his eyes. "And how would you know that?" His tone was edged, sharp as glass. "You didn't even come to the funeral."

A distant sorrow appeared on Eryndor's face, and something clicked within Vyan.

His heart stilled at the realization, unsettling and unexpected. "You…" His voice softened, almost faltering. "You did…?" But how could that be? "Then, why did everyone say you didn't?"

Eryndor's gaze drifted, his eyes dim with memories, lost in a place Vyan couldn't reach. "How could I not?" he murmured. "You two were Natalia's kids—my grandsons."

The admission hung between them like a ghost. It was raw and unadorned. Vyan felt a storm roil within him, as if caught in the pull of something he couldn't fully name. His emotions were placed somewhere between anger and sorrow.

He didn't know how to feel—if he should feel anything at all.

A glimmer of decency—one lone appearance at a funeral—couldn't erase years of the inhumane pressure he put on them. There was no way it could stitch together wounds Eryndor himself had carved deep.

A fleeting moment of grief didn't make up for the grandfather he should have been.

People usually ran to their grandparents when their parents got too strict. And in the Ashstone siblings' case, they had to run away from their grandfather in case they were trapped in some sort of grueling training session.

All because he believed that his grandkids were meant for greatness; one would inherit the title of Grand Duke of Ashstone and the other Duke of Preaton. Therefore, they should be the best in everything—they shouldn't have any weaknesses; flaws were for commoners.

While Vyan managed to escape this torture, thanks to being estranged, Aster wasn't so lucky. Nor has Ronan, who was now burdened with the responsibility to overtake Eryndor's 'great' duties in the future.

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"How kind of you," Vyan muttered, a little condescending, and shook his head slowly. "Whatever. Believe what you want, old man, but I wasn't talking about Ash. Whatever fantasy you have concocted in your head, let it stay there."

But Eryndor's gaze remained as though he could see right through the brittle shell Vyan had drawn around himself, peeling back layers of feigned indifference. "I know that you are lying, Vyan."

Vyan scoffed. "Do you really think I would be hiding a fact as big as my own brother being alive?"

"I can't think of anybody else for whom you would be willing to come talk to me. I am well aware of how stubborn you are. So, it can't be just anybody for whom you would bury your ego and pride."

Vyan got irritated. "Why, can't I have formed bonds with somebody other than Ash for whom I would go to such lengths?" he snapped a little.

"Yes, you could have, but there is nobody close to you who could have a mental condition as you have described," Eryndor pointed out, calmly but deadly.

"You talk as if you have been keeping track …" Vyan paused, another realization dawning on him. "You… you have been keeping track of me and the people I interact with?"

"Well, you are only twenty-one. I can't expect you to always make good judgment of people, so I simply keep a lookout," Eryndor admitted, while Clyde choked on air.

He had told Eryndor to express himself, but he had no idea he would be so literal about it, and he definitely didn't expect him to have been keeping tabs on Vyan—out of care, obviously. To be honest, it was kind of sweet. Although he wasn't sure how Vyan would take it.

As expected, Vyan didn't take it so well. His sharp snort said it all. "So, you think I am incompetent?"

"That's not what I said. I just meant you are young and inexperienced," Eryndor said gruffly. "There is nothing wrong with that."

"Yes, the only thing that is wrong here is you mistaking my inexperience for stupidity," Vyan retorted. "I obviously background-check everybody I work with, and I have Clyde too, who, for your information, is very experienced. So, you have no right to keep track of me when you couldn't be bothered to personally ask me how the person in question is doing, to begin with."

"What can I do when I know that you wouldn't accept me—after the things I have done?"

"You could have tried!" Vyan emphasized. "But did you do that?"

Eryndor was at a loss for words for some time before he gathered the courage to say, "Well, I want to try now. Would you let me?"

Now, it was time for Vyan to lose his voice.

He glanced at Clyde and asked through telepathy, 'what do I do?'

'Give it a shot, why don't you?' Clyde suggested. 'You are going to give your Tia another chance as well, so I guess it wouldn't be so bad to do the same for your grandfather.'

'I hope to Goddess that you are right, or else…'

'It will be okay. Your grandfather is just a little clueless. He only implemented the things he grew up with. He didn't know he was wrong. Since, you know, no one spoke up against him. Only now is he realizing it. So, you should help him with that. Perhaps, it's not too late,' he advised, giving Vyan a soft, encouraging smile.

After much contemplation, Vyan gave him a nod and looked back at Eryndor. "Alright, fine. I will give you a chance to make up for what we have lost."

At that, a grateful, warm smile bloomed on Eryndor's face. Vyan could swear his unfeeling grandfather almost appeared teary-eyed, but he knew it must have been an illusion.

"So, will you also let me make it up to Aster?" Eryndor asked.

"I am telling you," Vyan huffed, "Ash is not alive—"

"He is," Eryndor objected strongly. "I just know it."

"Well, your knowledge is wrong. My family is all dead and buried—"

"If you are afraid of me leaking the information, then I am even ready to sign a sacred oath with you. I will sign it without hesitation if it means I have one chance to see Aster."

"What…?" Vyan was shocked at that. "You would?"

"Yes, anything to get a chance to meet Aster."

For a moment, Vyan was taken aback; he was about to agree. Until he snapped out of it. "What does it matter?" he scoffed. "How would you meet somebody who doesn't exist in this world?"

"Vyan," Eryndor called out, his sincere eyes staring into Vyan's soul, "stop this act. I can tell when you are lying."

"You don't know me that well to be able to tell that." Eryndor didn't even know that Vyan could perform magic since his parents had lied about it to him in order to spare their younger son from the inhumane training after seeing their older one's spirit and will to live break down from it.

"Vyan, please," Eryndor requested. "This is my last wish."

As Vyan opened his mouth to respond, Eryndor continued, "And just so you know, I kept your mother's last wish. I made sure that her sons got a proper burial; it wasn't my fault that neither of you were dead and the coffins were empty."

Despite hearing that, Vyan just couldn't trust Eryndor. Then again, if he signed the sacred oath, Eryndor would have no way of breaking it, and with Vyan's magical strength, the consequences of breaking that contract could even result in instantaneous death (not that Eryndor would know that).

"Fine, I admit that Ash is alive and it's for him that I need help from Master Jin." Vyan glanced at the acupuncturist who had now made himself comfortable on the sofa, sipping a cup of tea, as if he had been enjoying the grandfather-grandchild fight until now.

At the admission, Eryndor melted into a relieved smile, and Vyan felt, maybe, just maybe, Eryndor wouldn't ever have to face the consequences of breaking the sacred oath.