Villiem Reinhardt was only four years old when he discovered the difference between good and bad.
It was the day before his second brother's eighth birthday. He and his second brother, Codette Reinhardt, were playing close to the kitchen that day and had seen the glorious sight of the sixteen-layered vanilla cake baked by the many kitchen staff.
Villiem had been obsessed with sweets that time. He'd told his brother that he wanted a taste of the cake. Codette had also wanted a taste, fully knowing that it belonged to him and it was only a matter of hours before he would be able to freely devour it to his satisfaction.
The two of them were aware of the fact that if they went into the kitchen and demanded the cake, the kitchen staff wouldn't casually offer it to them so as not to ruin a piece of their artwork ahead of time.
At his young age, Villiem already knew this much.
So, Codette had told him that they could only get the cake when the kitchen staff were not around. He told him that they should come at night when everyone else had gone to sleep.
Villiem looked forward to night time that day. All he had on his mind was the sumptuous-looking cake.
Codette had promptly come looking for him at night. The two of them snuck into the kitchen with no one wiser. They ate out of the bottom layer of the cake without any inhibitions.
When they were fully satisfied and about to leave, the cake tipped and descended to the floor.
Villiem knew that he would get in trouble with his father, the King of Everflow, if the man found out that his children's greed had caused him his face. The one thing his father cared the most about was his reputation.
How would such a man react when he discovered his two sons were nothing but impatient, greedy thieves?
Villiem was certain that his father would subject himself and Codette to multiple lashings of a whip. Codette knew it too.
That moment when they realized they would get into big trouble if anyone knew of their mischievous behavior, Codette had grabbed Villiem's shoulders and clearly said to him:
"This is not our fault. We were never here. We were both in our rooms sleeping and have no idea of who would dare to eat of the cake at night in secret."
Villiem nodded his head, believing in his brother and convincing himself that the destroyed cake was not their fault.
In the morning, hours before Codette's birthday banquet, the King of Everflow Griffith Reinhardt, discovered that his precious sixteen-layered vanilla cake had been destroyed.
Every living person in Everflow Palace had been summoned to witness the show that day.
King Reinhardt hadn't even cared to listen to the explanation of the kitchen staff and concluded that each one of them was at fault for slacking off and letting the cake get destroyed.
He ordered for them to be punished by receiving a 100 lashes of the whip—a special whip that was riddled with iron spikes and rumored to be soaked in some kind of poison. Even the strongest knights could not withstand 30 lashes of such a whip, how would the ordinary kitchen staff bear 100 lashes?
Fifty people had died that day from the lashings. The remaining five people, who had barely survived, were stripped of their duties in Everflow Palace.
Villiem had watched all of this happen without saying a single word. If he had confessed, he would have been lashed with the same whip. Maybe not with the same number of lashes, but still…
He hadn't wanted to be in the place of the screaming servants who kept on crying and pleading that they were innocent.
Codette, standing by his side, had repeatedly told him:
"It's not our fault."
No matter how one looked at it, they were the ones at fault. They were the ones who had done wrong and caused other people to suffer the consequences of their actions.
If they hadn't been greedy, if they hadn't gone to the kitchen at night, if they had confessed to their actions, the fifty-five kitchen staff wouldn't have had to face such horrible judgement.
They were at fault. He and his brother had done a bad thing.
After everything had been said and done, his father hired a new set of kitchen hands who delivered another sumptuous sixteen-layered cake in the nick of time before the banquet.
Villiem had not eaten a single bite of the new cake. His actions had weighed down on him all through the day.
At night, he secretly made a vow to himself that he would never, no matter the reason or consequences, do any bad thing that would get others in trouble.
Villiem believed that nothing would make him break his vow.
Nevertheless, it was impossible to do no bad in a world where only the evil thrived. It became a matter of time before his vow would become null and void.