Chapter 115. The Butler
“Co closer. Now.”
Mapheltan beckoned with a curling finger, his glowing red eyes fixed on the prisoner.
Verdan, bound by chains, showed no reaction. He stood stiffly, his expression calm—though slightly rigid.
Mapheltan smirked with amusent.
Verdan was Yohan. Down to the last detail.
Not just in appearance, but even the way he responded under shock mirrored Yohan perfectly.
Yohan always kept a mask on, hiding his emotions, maintaining calm even in the direst situations.
The fake Yohan—Verdan—was no different.
Even when faced with a demon, he forced himself to remain composed.
It was the effect of his power, Impersonator, which copied not just physical traits but also aspects of the target’s personality.
The fake Yohan slowly spoke.
“...Now I understand. Why did you always order the mansion to be emptied at night.”
Mapheltan chuckled.
“Let’s hear your theory.”
Verdan, still in Yohan’s form, responded with a asured tone.
“The Watcher of the Abyss—you’re a demon disguised as a human. When certain conditions are t, you revert to your true form. I believe that condition is… nightfall.”
Yohan had always insisted the mansion be vacated before night.
Until now, the reason had been unclear.
But now Verdan had witnessed Yohan transforming into a demon.
It all clicked into place.
Though he didn’t know the exact ti, he could guess—it must’ve been after sunset when he was captured by the knight.
That left one conclusion:
Yohan transford into a demon at night.
To hide that, he cleared out the estate every evening.
Mapheltan nodded.
“Not bad. You’ve figured out most of it.”
There was one thing Verdan hadn’t realized:
Yohan wasn’t a full demon—he was a half-demon.
Of course, that wasn’t sothing anyone could guess. No one in this world had ever heard of a being whose race changed with the sun.
Verdan remained calm.
“So, there’s sothing I missed.”
“I’m a half-demon,” Mapheltan said flatly.
Verdan raised an eyebrow.
“A half-demon… then…”
Mapheltan cut him off.
“We’ll talk about that later. I’ve got questions for you first.”
Verdan, sensing the shift in tone, lowered his voice.
“I’ll answer truthfully. But please—let serve you. Let be at your side.”
Mapheltan sneered.
Verdan had started scheming again.
And Mapheltan could tell—because Verdan now shared his temperant.
He was, in effect, looking into a mirror.
‘Tch. Look at this guy.’
Verdan had clearly realized Mapheltan was interested in the Impersonator ability.
Which ant he wouldn’t be killed.
Instead, Mapheltan would want to use him.
Verdan had already calculated that much.
Since survival was certain, the next step was ensuring quality of life.
He didn’t want to be a slave.
If he voluntarily pledged allegiance, maybe he’d be treated as a subordinate instead.
Maybe he’d be given so freedom.
From there, he could start plotting a way out.
‘Annoying bastard…’
Scheming for every advantage, hiding behind masks, playing mind gas—it was the kind of behavior Mapheltan found most revolting.
‘Spitting in my own face, aren’t you?’
Mapheltan clicked his tongue.
“Drop the transformation.”
He didn’t want to keep talking to “Yohan.”
Verdan hesitated, then lowered his head.
“If I offended you, I apologize.”
Mapheltan’s expression darkened.
“This is your final warning. Drop the transformation.”
His voice grew cold as frost. Red eyes flashed.
Verdan swallowed hard.
“...Understood.”
He grabbed at his own face and ripped the skin off.
The Impersonator spell lifted.
In its place appeared the bald, sly-faced man—Verdan’s true form.
He imdiately fell to the floor in a deep bow.
Mapheltan’s expression softened slightly.
The irritation lifted.
“Now we can talk properly,” he said.
Verdan couldn’t even et his eyes. His voice trembled.
“I—I’m ready to answer anything.”
“Was it really House Leonard that sent you?”
Leonard was the oldest knight family in the kingdom—revered for their honor and integrity.
“It was. They approached first. Offered to pay for any and all information about the Miyatro household.”
Mapheltan paused.
House Leonard despised dirty politics.
They prized honor above all.
They were known as the Shield of the Kingdom, a title earned through centuries of uprightness.
So why had they turned on Yohan?
Mapheltan narrowed his eyes.
“Was the Marquis himself involved?”
Verdan, still prostrate, answered,
“I’m not sure. Soone of his status wouldn’t et with scum like … I’ve never seen his face.”
The Marquis of Leonard was known to abhor the underworld.
He wouldn’t even look at it.
“Then who gave you the job?”
“I don’t know his na. He wore a mask.”
Mapheltan scowled.
“You idiot. Then he could’ve been an impostor.”
Verdan quickly shook his head.
“He showed the house’s aura—the signature silver aura only Leonard knights can wield.”
The Leonard family’s aura was unique—a silvery wave of energy that left no room for doubt.
Mapheltan clicked his tongue again.
“So you really know nothing of value.”
Verdan trembled harder.
“I—I’m sorry! Please, just let live!”
Aside from his Impersonator ability, Verdan was useless.
Mapheltan glared at him.
“One last question. Why did you send those lowlifes to the mansion?”
A few days ago, a group of thieves had broken in under the cover of night.
“To test it. I wanted to see what happened at night, so I sent a group of disposable thugs. I watched from afar.”
He had planned to sneak in himself if they returned safely.
But they never ca back.
They vanished—devoured by the mansion.
Now he understood why.
A demon lived there.
Mapheltan sighed.
“Every answer is exactly as I expected. You’re nothing without that ability.”
Verdan shrank again.
“P-please. I can be useful! I swear—”
“Silence. You’ll stay down here. Your fate will be decided later.”
Thanks to Verdan, information about the mansion had leaked.
Other lowlifes might co poking around, like the ones from last night.
Mapheltan was deeply annoyed.
Verdan would pay for that—sohow.
He turned to leave.
Night had fallen.
It was ti to protect the estate.
‘Damn this ss.’
Mapheltan left the prison.
Verdan lay trembling, still staring at the floor.
***
Haman awoke to the sound of rustling.
“Guh…”
Pain surged through him the mont he stirred.
It felt like his whole body had been torn apart.
His muscles scread. His ribs ached. His eyes barely opened.
The result of Verdan’s brutal beating.
As the image of Verdan’s face entered his mind, Haman scread.
“No! No! Don’t hurt !”
The trauma swallowed his mind whole.
He thrashed violently, screams echoing through the mansion.
A group of people heard the noise.
“What the hell?! You said no one was here!”
“We gotta go! Hurry!”
“Grab everything! Move your asses!”
“You! What are you standing around for?!”
Voices exploded in panic.
Footsteps thundered through the halls.
Chaos spread through the once-silent mansion.
Hearing all the noise finally snapped Haman out of it.
He opened his eyes wide.
This wasn’t an unfamiliar ceiling.
He’d been here many tis before.
Ever since being hired by the Count, Haman had helped clean and restore this old mansion for over a month.
Even this guest room was familiar to him.
mories slowly returned.
—Baron Miyatro sent here. Butler Haman, is that correct?
A knight had appeared, arrested Verdan, and rescued Haman.
He passed out afterward.
Now he was awake.
“I—I survived…”
But his words were cut off.
“Move, dammit!”
“If you’re done looting, then run!”
“Stupid bastards! Hurry!”
More shouting, more running.
Haman’s eyes widened.
“No way!”
Thieves. A group was robbing the mansion.
As a top graduate of the Preparatory Institute, Haman had morized countless protocols for such events.
But now?
His mind went blank.
Only one phrase remained:
—A butler’s duty is to protect the master’s property with their life and uphold their authority without fail.
Haman bolted upright from the bed.
Dragging his battered body, he ran from the room.
Spotted shadows in the corridor.
He shouted with everything he had.
“STOP! I said, STOP RIGHT THERE!”
The intruders turned in unison.
“Just one guy?”
“Looks like it.”
“Should we shut him up and keep going?”
They hadn’t finished raiding the place.
So paused, knives glinting.
Haman charged at them.
“You bastards dare rob this house? Drop everything and GET OUT!”
The thieves sneered.
One pulled a dagger.
“Co here, little rat. I’ll make it quick.”
He grabbed Haman from behind.
Holding him tight, he raised the blade to stab him in the gut.
Haman thrashed.
“LET GO! GET OFF !”
The thief raised his hand.
The blade neared his belly.
Just before it struck—BANG!
The thief’s arm went limp.
Haman twisted to look.
The thief’s head was gone.
Blood gushed from where it had been.
The others froze in place.
“Wh-What the hell?!”
“WHO DID THAT?!”
Another bang—another head exploded.
Blood sprayed. Necks gushed.
It continued.
All six thieves lost their heads in seconds.
Haman stared, stunned.
He collapsed to the floor.
Eyes wide with horror.
“Wh-what… what is this…?”
A cold voice spoke.
“Quite the interesting fellow.”
Haman whipped his head toward the sound.
No one was there.
Fear gripped him.
“H-Huh?!”
Sothing unseen tapped his back.
“First assignnt. Hang the corpses at the front gate.”
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