The Arrested Devil

"Mark, don't hesitate any longer. You were born to be the heir here. This is the legacy your father left you, and it always will be."

"Stop talking, Frank."

The young man Mark gripped the whip in his hand, gazing at the flocks of sheep and the endless deep green grassland in the distance. He gritted his teeth and remained silent.

However, upon closer inspection, a chilling fact becomes apparent—he was completely alone.

Mark Brown is the rightful heir to this fertile land and its herds.

More than a decade ago, his father, Tommy Brown, was a serf. But Tommy joined the Embers of the Burned Kingdom, rose through the ranks to become a junior officer, and seized the land and herds from the Northern Nobles.

But his good fortune didn't last long. Due to a recurrence of his old battlefield wounds, his father soon passed away, leaving seven-year-old Mark and his mother to depend on each other.

Such a large ranch couldn't be managed by just one woman and a teenager. Soon, their family received an uninvited guest—the so-called Uncle Gordon Gray, who was Mark's stepfather.

What made Mark even more unhappy was that Gordon and his mother soon had a little son, named Theodore Gray, who was greatly loved.

Theodore, a child bestowed by the gods, his name alone reveals the love his parents have for him.

Listening to the baby's constant crying throughout the night, and seeing his mother and stepfather's joyful smiles, Mark clenched his fists, feeling incredibly depressed, as if he were a stranger here.

Not long after, his mother, whose health had been weakened by long-term abuse from slave owners, fell ill and seemed to have little time left.

Once his mother left, Mark's last blood relative disappeared, leaving only a stranger and distant stepfather.

"Does this ranch left by my father mean it will be named after Gray from now on?" Mark sighed to himself as he looked at the familiar grassland and the crowded cattle and sheep.

He had been sitting by the haystack for half a day. The night had grown pitch black. Mark wanted to go back to the house his father had left behind, but he didn't want to face his unfamiliar stepfather.

"Mark, haven't you thought it through yet? If you hesitate any longer and are too soft-hearted, you will become a slave to the Gray Family."

A hissing, shrill voice echoed in Mark's ears; it was the same voice.

After his father's death, Mark became extremely withdrawn and had few friends in the village. He often wept alone late at Deep Night.

But his stepfather and mother focused almost all their attention on the newborn, Mark's "brother," and were completely unaware of anything amiss.

However, in recent months, Mark has met his only true friend, a creature with tattered wings and red skin named Frank.

It seems that no one can see Frank except Mark, not even his mother and stepfather.

Mark was initially quite disgusted with this guy who called himself the Wishing Elf and remained wary.

But over time, due to the neglect from his current family, Mark began to pour out his frustrations to Frank, and their conversations became more and more frequent, to the point where they talked about everything.

"Frank, no matter what, they are my family. I can't treat them like this." Mark's voice trembled, and his eyes were unfocused.

But Frank leaned close to Mark's ear and whispered in his shrill voice, "Family? Do they really consider you family? Think about it. Mark, the pastures, the house, the sheep, even your mother's love—all of this should have been yours!"

"But now? You're nothing more than a slave tending their ranch!"

Frank's sharp and biting sarcasm was like a venom-laced dagger, piercing deep into Mark's heart.

"No, that's impossible!"

Mark kept shaking his head. He suddenly shook off Frank's hand that was brushing against his face and squatted down next to the haystack, holding his head in his hands.

His voice choked with emotion as he said, "Yes, yes, I still have my mother. She won't abandon me; she has always loved me."

Frank flapped his tattered wings and flew beside Mark, patting his shoulder with his red claws as if to comfort him.

"Mark, I understand how you feel, but have you thought about why your mother fell ill so suddenly? Think about it, Mark, if your mother were to pass away, who would benefit the most?"

"The precious wealth your father left you through his own hard work—your sheep, pastures, and houses—will fall into whose hands?"

And so, with Frank's "gentle persuasion", Mark, with tears in his eyes, whispered the name he didn't want to mention.

"Gordon Gray."

"More precisely, there's your brother— Theodore Gray. Tsk tsk, a child of God, what an ambitious name."

Frank let out a low, hoarse laugh and continued, "When faced with readily available benefits, even the life of one's wife is not worth mentioning."

Just imagine, Mark, once your mother is poisoned by him, Gordon Gray can brazenly take over your house, own your flock, and pass all the wealth to Theodore.

And you are nothing more than a slave serving the Gray Family.

Hearing Frank's horrific description, Mark trembled with rage, bloodshot eyes welling with tears. "No, these are things my father left behind, things he risked his life for!"

"Yes, Mr. Brown," Frank said excitedly, uttering the unfamiliar title.

"You should pick up your weapon and kill that damned intruder and his bastard before they lay a hand on you."

But Mark was still somewhat frightened by Frank's suggestion; killing a person was still too terrible for this ordinary shepherd.

"But, but, this is a crime! The Imperial Security Team will not let me off the hook."

"Crime?"

Frank leaned closer, looking at him with exasperation, and said, "You're defending your property!"

You are protecting your father's honor and safeguarding your home! Even the judges of the gods would not consider you guilty!

"But."

Mark huddled beside the haystack, his face a mixture of anger, worry, and fear.

Frank continued to fuel the fire, issuing righteous accusations. "Do you want to disgrace your father? He was a hero who defeated the Northern Nobles, and you, Mark, I misjudged you. You're just a cowardly coward who can only watch helplessly as his homeland is gradually taken over, and watch his mother grovel before other men."

"Enough!"

Mark suddenly stood up and roared, his still-youthful face revealing an unprecedented ferocity.

Frank was overjoyed. He leaned on Mark's shoulder and praised him repeatedly, "Go and face all of this. That's what a hero does. Kill all those who have hurt you!"

"I will never bring shame to my father. I want to become a hero like him and protect my homeland."

Mark gritted his teeth and muttered to himself. He picked up the pitchfork stuck in the haystack, turned around, and looked at the now dimly lit house.

Clearly, the intruder and his bastard had already gone to sleep, sleeping peacefully in the house his father had left him.

The moon is bright and the stars are few; a gentle breeze blows.

Now is a good opportunity.

Mark strode toward the house his father had left him. The young shepherd was determined to use his pitchfork to clear everything away—even if it would have terrible consequences.

Standing at the door of the dilapidated house, Mark took a deep breath, mustered his courage, and told himself that he had done nothing wrong; he was simply protecting his home.

"Go, Mark, do what you want to do, there's nothing wrong with that."

Frank's voice echoed in Mark's ears, which gave him more confidence. He carefully pushed open the door.

"Squeak—"

He silently entered the room, and seeing his betraying mother, greedy stepfather, and young baby, Mark trembled as he slowly raised the pitchfork in his hand...

"Think of the injustices you suffered, kill them, kill them."

Frank's voice grew increasingly excited, like the cheers of an audience, giving Mark the determination to make his move.

He recalled the countless nights he had silently wept, the hostile gazes he had received, and his mother's intentional or unintentional neglect. With these thoughts in mind, Mark no longer hesitated.

"This is what you deserve."

After whispering those words, Mark held his breath and slowly closed his eyes—

"Stop!"

The room was suddenly illuminated by bright lights, making it as bright as day. The stepfather, mother, and newborn child were all awakened.

"Mark, what are you trying to do?" his mother cried out in alarm.

At this moment, Mark was like a punctured balloon, and all the courage he had painstakingly accumulated to kill was poured out at once.

"Quickly, kill them! This is your last chance!"

Frank urged him impatiently, but Mark seemed to have lost his soul, his legs trembling as he slowly turned around.

"How... how could this be?"

Behind him stood several fully armed Tiefling, their hands holding brand-new rifles, their chest badges prominently displayed.

—That was the emblem that Mark had been longing for, the symbol of the Embers of the Burned Empire.

Standing at the front, Tiefling pointed his gun at the sky, pulled the trigger, and a loud gunshot rang out.

"Bang!"

"Imperial Guard on duty, ordered by His Majesty to arrest those devils who have entered the Empire without permission. All unauthorized persons, leave immediately!"

"Is he the devil?"

Mark turned his head and looked at the red-skinned "wishing Elf," whose Frank had become ferocious.

He was then shocked to realize that his close companion was such a terrifying being, and that he had almost been bewitched by the devil and committed a heinous crime!

"Ignorant mortals!"

The "wishing Elf," which originally looked like a four- or five-year-old child and even somewhat endearing, transformed into an incredibly ferocious and hideous creature amidst the noisy and piercing screams.

A crimson aura surrounded Frank; it was an aura of evil and fear.

"Ah!"

"By Keosius, what is that?"

Mark collapsed to the ground in terror, while his mother and stepfather panicked, and his newborn brother screamed incessantly, nearly fainting.

"Fear it, mortals! I am Lord Frank, your nightmare!"

Seeing the panicked crowd, the devil spoke triumphantly, seemingly trying to scare the Tiefling away.

However, the Tiefling Guard at the very front remained indifferent and unmoved, his eyes fixed on the devil before him.

He said coldly, "A mere little devil dares to deceive the Imperial Guard? He's courting death!"

Without a word, Tiefling raised his rifle and fired without hesitation. The specially made bullet, engraved with runes, flew out of the muzzle and grazed past the little devil.

"Ah!"

Frank clutched his burned arm, letting out a scream of agony, his expression one of extreme terror.

He knew that he had been seen through by these demons!

Frank, his earlier arrogance gone, quickly raised his hands and said with a sheepish grin, "You are also descendants of demons; we are your fellow countrymen. These mortals are merely our food. How about this, I'll help you contact the masters of the Nine Hells."

Tiefling interrupted coldly, "Enough! We are the servants of His Your Majesty Keosius, with hot dragon blood flowing through our veins. We have nothing to do with you filthy devils from Hell! You only have two choices before you: surrender, or die!"

Just then, a soft "pop" was heard, and a plume of blood-red smoke appeared where it had been. The little devil had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only a harsh curse.

"You damned bastards!" (Purgatory Language)

The Tiefling were not alarmed; they simply turned around with a cold smile, and soon they heard a scream.

"Ah!"

At the doorway of the house, the invisible little devil crashed into the "Evil Barrier" that had been set up beforehand, and Frank was revealed, his entire body charred black.

Tiefling nodded to the outside and said loudly, "Thank you for your help, Earl Charlotte."

"It's nothing, it's all for the sake of serving the empire."

The man in the long robe waved his hand, lifted his hood, and revealed an exceptionally hearty smile.

He opened the sack, manipulated the Mage Hand, lifted the half-burnt little devil, and said with great pleasure, "You're arrested, devil Frank."

"Let me out! You audacious mortals!"

The little devil was imprisoned in a birdcage-like cage, pounding on the door incessantly, but to no avail.

And throughout the empire, many similar things were happening, with demons from Hell proving utterly powerless against the Empire Retinue wielded authority.

Duke Mezhuolash, who commands the Tiefling Guard, has formed Exorcism Squad and is recruiting players from all over the empire to search for and arrest demons.