The Damned Demon Chapter 525 The Painting Of The Boy And The Sun

Chapter 525  The Painting Of The Boy And The Sun

As Asher confidently strode through the opulent hallways of the Von Haughton estate, his familiarity with the premises did not go unnoticed.

Logan, trailing just behind with his wife Isla, muttered under his breath, his brows furrowed in a mix of disbelief and curiosity, “Why is he walking as if this isn’t his first time?”

Isla’s response was a whispered gasp, “Did he come here already?” Her eyes widened slightly as the possibility took root, prompting both to pivot their gaze toward Amelia. Their looks were heavy with suspicion, silently questioning whether she had secretly sneaked in her boyfriend under their noses.

Amelia, caught off guard by their accusatory stares, widened her eyes in surprise and shook her head vigorously, a sigh escaping her lips as she pondered why Asher was behaving with such unseemly familiarity, given that he was supposed to be acting as if it were his first visit.

Obviously, she had brought his past self, Cedric, here numerous times, and it wouldn’t even be wrong to say that he treated it as his own home as well. It was one of the main reasons why she got so close to him that she couldn’t stop thinking about him, especially in her dreams.

Catching up to Asher’s brisk pace, Isla masked her suspicion with a hospitable smile and interjected, “Where are you going, son? Our guest hall is to the right.”

Without breaking stride, Asher glanced over his shoulder, addressing both Logan and Isla with a serious tone, “I have something important to talk about with you guys. So how about we head to the painting hall above?”

“Well-” Logan, about to suggest a more appropriate venue, paused mid-sentence as Ash continued his ascent up the stairs without waiting for a response. The couple exchanged another look of bewilderment. Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly, “How does he even know about the painting hall which we don’t even show to our guests?”

Amelia, sensing her parents’ growing suspicion and confusion, rubbed her forehead in exasperation and gently nudged them to continue following Asher without further ado.

When they reached the grand doors of the painting hall, Asher pushed them open with an air of someone well-accustomed to the space. He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the vast, elegant hall adorned with large, luminous windows and walls lined with dozens of paintings. Each canvas captured the valiant figures of the Von Haughton lineage, immortalized in moments of glory and valor, a mirror to their storied past.

Logan, remembering the seriousness of Ash’s voice earlier and recognizing the need for privacy, subtly gestured for the servants and maids to exit the room while Isla’s face was brimming with curiosity, wondering what kind of juicy details he was going to reveal about himself.

Could he be the son of some secret elite family? If so, that would be another fact to take pride in her potential son-in-law.

As the last of the attendants closed the doors behind them, the room fell into a solemn silence.

The air in the painting hall, usually still and thick with the weight of history, seemed to buzz with a current of unease as Amelia’s nerves prickled with unexplainable anxiety. She noticed how Asher’s behavior had shifted subtly since their arrival, his actions threading an undercurrent of tension through the grandiose space. Asher paused in front of a painting that was markedly distinct from the grand portrayals surrounding it.

It depicted a small boy on a street, gazing up at the sun with a warm smile.

The style was simpler, less refined, evoking the earnest efforts of an amateur artist on an ordinary canvas rather than the skilled hands that had crafted the hall’s other works.

“This painting…It stands out from the rest in the sense that it looks like someone a bit inexperienced painted it. Whose is it?” Asher’s voice broke the uneasy silence, his tone laced with curiosity. Logan and Isla exchanged a glance, their features tightening as if the question had touched a sensitive nerve.

Logan cleared his throat, the sound echoing slightly in the vast hall, “It was painted by Aira Evangelion when she was very young,” he explained, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia mixed with a shadow of sorrow.

“Oh…that Hunter who disappeared? But why is her painting here instead of with her family?” Asher continued, his inquiry gentle yet probing, his eyes scanning the painting.

Logan’s face hardened slightly, the lines around his eyes deepening. He exhaled slowly, choosing his words with care, “Because she gave it to someone else who wanted us to keep it here. Unfortunately we can’t reveal who it is since that person requested privacy,” he said, a firm edge to his voice that suggested the topic was closed for further discussion.

Amelia pressed her lips together, noticing how her father’s demeanor changed, probably because he remembered ‘him’. Just what was Asher planning? Even her bubbly mother seemed uneasy and unusually silent.

Asher nodded, seemingly respecting the boundary but not quite ready to steer away from the subject, “I won’t since you said so. But this painting…the sun…it reminds me of the Corrupted Prince. To the people of this world, he was like the sun, protecting them and lighting the way for a better tomorrow until they learned the truth about him. I heard he was quite close with you and your family. Is that true?” he asked, his brow arching inquisitively.

Amelia winced slightly, sensing the emotional minefield Asher was navigating. His questions, probing and direct, edged into territories fraught with pain and more.

She understood his motives likely had deeper intentions, but the palpable discomfort it caused was undeniable.

Logan’s demeanor stiffened, his face becoming a mask of controlled anguish as Isla lowered her gaze, her hands clasped tightly in a struggle to suppress her emotions.

“He was,” Logan finally replied, his voice low, strained as he acknowledged their past association, “But now, after what happened…we are trying our best to forget and move on since we don’t want to keep hurting because of what happened,” His eyes shifted to the painting, perhaps seeking solace in its simplicity.

“I understand. It’s quite scary that he was hiding his true self for so many years and gaining the trust of you people, including my girlfriend’s,” Asher continued, his tone mingling disbelief with a biting edge of scorn.

Both Logan and Isla listened in pained silence, their expressions tightening—Logan’s face hardening, Isla’s lips pressing together as if each word was a physical blow.

“How could someone do that to good people like you guys? What’s worse is the number of atrocities he must have committed while pretending to be the good guy. Who knows how many innocents, including children, he must have corrupted and then destroyed using the trust they had in him,” Asher’s words, laden with anger and disapproval, struck a raw nerve. Logan’s face reddened, his hands clenching into fists as if he was struggling to suppress the emotions bubbling forth within him.

Asher went on with a look of hate, “I have never come upon such a son of a bi-”

“That’s enough,” Logan interjected suddenly, his voice a low rumble of restrained power, his eyes hardening like flint.

Isla covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she fought back sobs, the painful memories overwhelming her composure. VIsit n0(v)eLb(i)n.𝘤𝑜𝓂 for the best novel reading experience

“Mom…” Amelia’s voice was a soft murmur, a mix of concern and reproach.

She glanced at Asher, her expression fraught with confusion though she didn’t gesture him to stop since he must be doing this for a good reason.

Since he came this far, he must be planning to accomplish something by doing all this.

“Forgive my rudeness but I want you to leave. I am not in the mood for a discussion now,” Logan declared firmly, his gaze piercing as he looked at Ash. His posture was rigid, his hands clasped behind his back, signaling the finality of his request.

“What’s wrong, sir? Is it because of what I said about the Corrupted Prince? I am sorry, but I thought I was just stating the truth and that we have every right to be angry about his betrayal towards us,” Asher said, his tone a mix of confusion and earnestness.

Logan, trying to maintain a semblance of calm, inhaled deeply before responding, his voice steady despite the storm brewing in his heart, “Young man, there is no point in stating what has already been and is being stated every day. We are just tired of hearing the same crap over and over again. So unless you knew this man personally and have something new to say about him, don’t bother.”

Asher’s lips curled into a wry smile, a flash of cunning crossing his features as he glanced once more at the painting, “Fine, but…nobody else might know, but I know that this painting belonged to the Corrupted Prince.”

The revelation made Logan’s eyes tremble briefly, while Isla’s breath hitched, the room suddenly seeming too small, too confining. Amelia’s heart thudded painfully, her anxiety spiking at the potential fallout of Asher’s claim. What was he seriously trying to do by going this far?

Asher’s smile grew colder, his next words calculated and chilling, “Looks like you two had no idea. Well…as per the orders of the WHA, any property that belonged to him should be purged from this world, and they will even offer a reward for anyone who manages to find any traces left behind by him. So I am taking it back with me. I am sure you two won’t mind since I need to curry more favor with the WHA as a new employee. Of course, I will share a part of the reward with you guys as well if you want,” he said, reaching out to remove the painting from the wall.

“No!” Isla’s cry was a sharp, desperate sound in the tense air. She reached out instinctively to stop him.

“Don’t you dare, you two-faced midden!” Logan roared, beating Isla to the chase, his fury unbridled as he unleashed a powerful surge of radiant yellow mana. “Urgh!”

The energy struck Asher squarely, sending him flying across the room with a pained groan. His body hit the wall with such force that it cracked, and he crumpled to the floor, motionless.

“Ash!” Amelia’s cry of horror sliced through the thick tension as she rushed to his side, her concern for him overshadowing the chaotic scene around her.

Without wasting a moment, Logan snatched the painting from the wall and handed it to Isla, who, with a swift magical gesture, made the painting disappear as if securing it from further threat.

And the next moment, the two of them had their gazes become cold as they shifted to the collapsed figure on the floor.