"Death sentence!" a voice rang out in the courtroom.

Murmurs of agreement spread through the crowd. From the back of the room, someone shouted:

"Behead him!"

Another suggested:

"No, impale him with our flag!"

At this point, everyone in the room felt emboldened, each throwing out their own ideas for the execution of the accused.

"How about stoning him?"

But then...

"Silence!" an old man interrupted as he took his place as the chief magistrate of the court.

The crowd fell silent, afraid that the newly arrived judge might not agree with them. However...

"We'll hang him!" declared the judge, and the murmurs quickly turned into shouts of approval.

Seeing the enthusiasm in the room, the judge stood once again and added:

"Let's kill him! Let's kill him! Let's put an end to him and display his body in the square, as our ancestors wisely reserved it for the worst of criminals."

He even removed his musketeer hat, decorated with black feathers, and waved it, encouraging the crowd to raise their voices even higher. Yet, amid all the commotion, the sound of a gavel struck three times: Thud-thud-thud! The crowd fell silent again.

"Order," said another judge, much younger than the first and seated to his right. "Order in the court."

Upon hearing the words of the second judge, everyone in the room held their tongues. Still, a faint "Ha!" echoed in the chamber once again. The sound came from a third and final judge, seated to the left of the chief magistrate. He was a rotund man, stroking his mustache with suspicion.

In total, three judges had been appointed for this case:

The elderly man, known as Sir First.

The young man, nicknamed Sir Second.

And the fat one, called Sir Third.

"This is a farce, don't you think, Sir Second?" said the fat man, addressing the younger judge.

"A farce!?" the old man retorted, pointing a finger at the rotund judge. "Your mustache is the farce, Sir Third. The flag and I demand the utmost respect!"

"But you're not part of the flag, Sir First. Stop believing the length of your nose inspired the height of our flagpole."

"Ah! Y-y-you, Sir Third," the old man stammered, "I-I'll kill you, I'll kill you!"

At that, the fat judge burst into laughter.

"Let's move on," the younger judge finally interjected.

Sighing, weary from the long task ahead, he turned to one of the clerks in the courtroom.

"Well? Proceed."

The clerk nodded in response and stood with a stack of scrolls that detailed the complex case.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

◇◆◇

'Yes, it's definitely a farce', thought a young, slender woman standing by the door.

Her name was Pia, and she was one of the guards assigned to watch over the prisoner. Normally, the courtroom would be staffed by their own guards; however, an order from the prime minister required an additional escort for this trial. Still, Pia couldn't shake the feeling that it was an overreaction.

'But considering', she thought, 'I'm not the only one who's been summoned'.

She scanned the courtroom. Like her, several individuals stood out with their attire, which was incongruent with that of the guards, glowing like fireflies in the night.

Thanks to her combat experience, Pia could tell that they all had considerable skill levels. Even if something went wrong, there were enough capable hands to help. So, she decided to relax and listen to what the clerk, who had been prompted to stand, began to say:

"Session No. 234 is now in session, recorded in the Beltras district. The accused..." He cleared his throat. "The accused is of commoner origin."

At the same time, the elderly judge turned his gaze toward the corridor door where the accused would enter and began making gestures with his hands, saying:

"Come in, come in, come in."

The clerk continued:

"For violations of the law, he is charged with desertion."

The moment the clerk spoke those words, the deep echo of a step accompanied by metal scraping against the floor filled the air. Everyone's heart seemed to stop for a moment. Despite this, the clerk did not hesitate:

"Murder, identity theft."

A mysterious pressure filled the room, and no one could move.

"Terrorism."

The clinking of chains echoed once more along with the clerk's voice:

"Conspiracy against the peace... Direct involvement in the destruction of Cardinal City."

Even Pia, an experienced warrior, could feel her skin begin to prickle. Her heart started pounding faster as the silhouette of the man became visible.

"Torture. Genocide."

Each step of the accused resonated like dry thuds, hammering in the minds of those present. Louder and more intense with each step. Inside the room, the silence was overwhelming, only broken by the clerk's voice:

"Alliance with the fallen."

When the silhouette of the accused became fully visible, Pia watched in horror. The man was covered in heavy chains, binding his legs, torso, and arms. He even wore a muzzle. As if that weren't enough, several guards held onto the chains, pulling and slackening them.

It was as if they were animals dragging a beast; that would be the correct way to describe it.

The man's walk was slow, and with each movement, the clinking of the chains echoed through the courtroom. At this point, even Sir First, the elderly judge, was rendered speechless as his musketeer hat slid off and fell to the floor.

"Kidnapping."

One more step, and the chains clanged loudly.

"Betrayal of the homeland, of the heroes, and thus..."

Another step, and the guards tugged and loosened the chains.

"... to humanity."

At the final step, everything began to move in slow motion.

Unconsciously, Pia reached for the dagger hanging at her waist. She was not alone in this reaction; men, women, even those who had never wielded a sword in their lives knew that this man was dangerous.

But in that fleeting moment, Pia's heart was already set for battle.

"He is..." the clerk concluded, "Eídal Granier, hero killer!"

By the time the clerk finished, Pia had already moved. Faster than anyone else and better than the other guest guards. Without hesitation, she positioned herself beside the man and pressed her dagger to his neck, where the chains left his skin exposed.

Yet, Pia was not the only one to spring into action. The other three guest guards did the same, each aiming their weapon at the man's head, heart, and behind his knees.

But Pia, trembling slightly, was too engrossed in herself to notice this. Her instincts screamed that this man, this despicable man, had to die here and now. In the end, without waiting for the jury's verdict, she had already condemned him to death!

◇◆◇

Dense clouds darkened the sky. Ashes were lifted by the wind and descended on the square like winter snow. The place was crowded: some were frightened, others pleased; some were expectant, others melancholic; some were angry, others holding drinks in their hands.

Everyone's gaze was fixed on the elevated platform in the center. There, a man condemned to death walked towards the thick rope that would soon tighten around his neck.

Then, a person stepped forward, holding a scroll, and spoke:

"Eídal Granier, hero killer, is sentenced to hang by the judgment of the 'Three Races.' Due to his rank, he will be executed in a special manner; a Category Five artifact will be used: the 'Cord of the End.' This artifact is considered unbreakable! It not only suffocates the body but the very soul itself! Even heroes could not survive this."

Eídal, for his part, watched the proceedings with a melancholic expression, not moving, just as he hadn't moved a finger during the trial. With a sigh, he brushed away an ash floating near his face and closed his eyes, accepting his fate. But when the rope was placed around his neck, Eídal whispered a final confession, long held within:

"No, don't misunderstand... It was for love."

That was his only defense. Then, the rope was tightened, exposing the hanging body to an ecstatic crowd!