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Chapter 27: False Verdicts

"I hear you."

Flint's voice echoed through the courtyard like temple bells in twilight. Each word marked the passage of time as she performed another kowtow, her forehead touching the ground where countless souls had left their mark. The brownish-red resentment force swirled around her, creating an ethereal mist in the fading daylight.

"I hear you."

Her voice carried neither weakness nor hesitation, despite the blood flowing from her eyes. Each declaration was both a blessing and a promise to the departed, drawing their accumulated sorrow into herself.

Sage Mortius Crane twisted his blood-red ruby ring, his aristocratic features twisted with impatience. "Must we waste more time on a dying girl, Sage South Rain?" His fingers drummed against the jade handrail, betraying his growing agitation.

"The longer we delay, the more this... spectacle tarnishes our sect's reputation." As Sage Mortius Crane spoke these words, his head was not turned towards Sage South Rain, but slightly tilted, facing Sage East Cloud, who was sitting on the main seat with eyes closed, deeply immersed in thought.

South Rain's usually gentle eyes had turned to ice. Gone was her customary peaceful demeanor, replaced by something ancient and dangerous. "Tell me, Sage Mortius," she said, her voice carrying the chill of winter frost, "what crime exactly has she committed?"

A contemptuous laugh escaped Crane's throat. "Look at her!" He gestured sharply at the resentment force surrounding Flint. "She's practically bathing in it. The disciples who brought her in should have ended this immediately rather than dragging our sect's name through the mud by involving the Immortal Alliance."

"I hear you."

Another kowtow. Another soul acknowledged. The brownish-red mist seemed to pulse with each declaration, growing lighter with every utterance of those three words.

"Sage South Rain," Seedling's voice rose with desperate hope, "we found an underground prison filled with cultivators whose souls had been absorbed! When Flint went to rescue me, the resentment force suddenly latched onto her. She's innocent!"

Her purple eyes blazed as she turned to glare at Sage Mortius Crane. "And your hound has been seen at that prison. You probably built it! The only reason you're so eager for Flint's death is that you're afraid we'll discover you've been secretly imprisoning criminals who should have been sent to the Immortal Alliance. You must have an even bigger scheme!"

Sage West Wind placed a comforting hand on Seedling's head, but notably refrained from his usual gentle admonishments about respectful behavior.

Sage Mortius Crane's eyes narrowed to slits as he regarded Seedling with contempt. He adjusted his ruby ring with deliberate slowness, though it sat perfectly on his finger.

"Thank you, child, for helping prove Flint's innocence," Sage South Rain said with a nod. After a moment of contemplation, her gaze hardened with resolve as she turned to address the Sect Leader, who remained deep in meditation.

"I understand Flint's situation," she declared. "She does have a unique constitution that allows her to absorb resentment force, though these deaths were not by her hand. Right now, she's—"

"I hear you."

The words rang out like clockwork, steady and unwavering.

South Rain's eyes softened as she watched Flint in the courtyard. "She's helping these resentful souls release their attachments and return to... where souls are meant to go."

The resentment force continued to swirl around Flint, growing lighter with each ritualistic declaration.

Sage Mortius Crane furrowed his brow, twisting the ruby ring on his left thumb with increasing force. "Oh? So anyone can simply claim they have some 'special constitution'..."

"I hear you."

Though Flint's ritual words had been constant, this particular utterance seemed to pierce through Sage Mortius Crane's composure, setting his nerves on edge.

"Sage Mortius Crane," South Rain cut in sharply, "perhaps you should explain the underground prison instead."

At that moment, his jade tablet vibrated subtly – a sensation only he could feel through his body. He didn't reach for it, but his eyes narrowed slightly as a victorious smile played across his lips. He ceased fidgeting with his ring, instead admiring the dove egg-sized ruby that reflected his satisfied gaze.

"When did I ever say that mysterious underground chamber was mine?" He turned to South Rain, his voice dripping with honeyed venom. "And why would you make such an assumption? Because of a few words from this little girl?"

He tapped his long, black fingernail against the jade handrail with deliberate precision. "I believe," he paused, savoring each word, "we should send someone to investigate this underground chamber, since..."

His smile, when he finally turned it on Seedling, made her fur stand on end. "Our little fox here claims those cultivators absorbed the souls themselves."

The calculated cruelty in his expression made Seedling's stomach turn, but before she could respond, another steady declaration echoed through the courtyard.

"I hear you."

The resentment force pulsed once more, and in that moment, something in Sage Mortius Crane's carefully composed expression flickered – a shadow of genuine unease crossing his features before he could mask it.

An Adept-Level disciple was dispatched to investigate the underground prison where Flint had been found. The grand hall lapsed into silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of "I hear you" drifting in from the courtyard, marking time's relentless passage.

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Spark gradually regained his composure and stood, his earlier emotional breakdown subsiding. Though his mind had momentarily shattered, he'd caught the recent exchange. South Rain's explanation had acted as a balm to his troubled thoughts, and guilt began to creep in over his doubts about Flint.

When he turned his head, still slightly dazed, he met Seedling's resentful glare. Shame forced him to look away, his gaze settling instead on Flint in the courtyard. Though he didn't fully understand what she was doing, he sensed its profound importance.

In his heart, he prayed Flint wouldn't hate him for his earlier display of mistrust. The wolf prince who had once sworn to protect her had faltered at the crucial moment, letting suspicions cloud his judgment. The weight of his actions pressed heavily on his shoulders as he watched her continue her solemn ritual.

"I hear you."

Another sacred declaration and kowtow from Flint made Spark's heart clench. Looking at her injured body and remembering her blood-streaked eyes, he felt a deep, aching pain in his chest.

"In fact, I see no reason why Flint would need to absorb souls," Sage South Rain said, her steady gaze fixed on Sage Mortius Crane as he admired his ring. "From what I understand, soul absorption is only attempted when cultivators cannot break through their current level. Flint is merely at Middle Initiative – nowhere near a breakthrough point."

Sage East Cloud opened his eyes and glanced at South Rain, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face before he nodded. "That is my understanding as well."

"Tch." A barely audible click of disapproval escaped Sage Mortius Crane's lips as his fingers resumed their restless turning of the ruby ring.

Something else clearly weighed on Sage South Rain's mind, but she held her tongue. After all, everyone knew Sage Mortius Crane himself had been stuck at Late Master for years, unable to advance despite reaching the peak of that realm.

The sunset painted the courtyard in deep crimson, mirroring the fading resentment force around Flint. Her voice, though softer now, remained steady.

"I hear you."

The returning Adept-Level disciple's report cut through the tense atmosphere. "Sect Leader, all the imprisoned cultivators are dead." He produced a piece of paper with a hastily sketched formation pattern. "These strange runes were carved into the cage floors..."

The formation diagram, though partial and distorted, drew sharp inhales from several of the elders present. Most couldn't decipher its exact purpose, but its ominous nature was clear.

"Is it so impossible," Sage Mortius Crane's voice dripped with calculated malice, "that someone discovered a forbidden art to absorb souls for cultivation?" He fixed his gaze on the reporting disciple. "How did they die?"

"The cages wouldn't open, Master Crane. We observed no wounds – they simply... ceased to be."

"How fascinating." Crane's lips curved into a cruel smile. "Rather like the aftermath of soul absorption, wouldn't you say?"

His predatory gaze shifted to Seedling. "Are you absolutely certain these cultivators were alive when you saw them?"

"Of course they were!" Seedling's voice rose with desperation. "They... they spoke to me!" But even as the words left her mouth, she realized how weak her defense sounded.

Ignoring her protest, Crane continued his calculated assault. "Mysteriously deceased cultivators. Soul-draining formations. And then we find Flint, saturated in resentment force..." He let the implications hang in the air. "Are we truly to believe she has no connection to this?"

"I hear you."

Flint's voice carried through their debate, unwavering.

"And let us not forget," Sage Mortius Crane pressed on, "the curious case of Samuel, an Adept-Level cultivator who mysteriously exploded in her presence. After which, her cultivation..." His eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "Advanced remarkably quickly, didn't it? For someone with all Deficient spirit roots to reach Middle Initiative in less than a year..."

South Rain's expression hardened to ice. How had Crane learned these details? His information network was clearly more extensive than she'd realized.

"You're insane!" Seedling's fury finally erupted. "Do you honestly think Flint could build an underground prison by herself?"

Sage Mortius Crane's eyes glittered with mockery, though his fingers betrayed a nervous energy as they continued to fidget with his ring. "But doesn't her boyfriend have quite deep pockets? The little wolf prince?" His gaze slid to Seedling. "And you, from such an illustrious Wind-Charm Fox family..."

"One does wonder," he added with deliberate casualness, "why we've started accepting so many spiritual beast royalty." The barb was clearly aimed at Sage North Thunder, who had championed the admission of spiritual beasts. The latter's expression darkened further.

"Enough." Sage South Rain's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "These are nothing but baseless speculations. How can you be certain these cultivators died from soul absorption?"

Sage Mortius Crane shrugged, his affected nonchalance belied by the way he anxiously worked the ring around his thumb. "We could investigate further..."

"I hear you."

Flint's steady voice continued to echo through the courtyard, each declaration accompanied by another kowtow. The brownish-red resentment force had grown noticeably fainter now, barely visible in the deepening twilight.

Finally breaking his prolonged silence, Sage East Cloud spoke: "This matter is indeed complex and requires further investigation..."

His gaze drifted to Flint, where the resentment force around her had noticeably dimmed. "This disciple – Flint, I believe – appears to be genuinely helping these resentful souls find peace."

"As for whether she absorbed souls..." A barely perceptible hesitation flickered in Sage East Cloud's eyes before he concluded, "She hasn't reached a breakthrough point in her cultivation, so there would be no need."

This statement pulled Flint back from the brink of execution by the Immortal Alliance. Everyone's expression softened somewhat, except for Sage Mortius Crane.

Sage East Cloud turned his attention to Sage Mortius Crane, his tone carrying concern rather than reproach. "However, what are we to do about all the resentment force surrounding Flint? Other disciples witnessed her return in this state."

Sage Mortius Crane clearly wanted to suggest immediate expulsion from the sect, but after surveying the other high-ranking elders, he merely clicked his tongue silently.

"If the most suspicious person escapes, I have no better suggestions," Sage Mortius Crane said casually, adjusting his ring.

Pierce Everett, who had been standing attendance on Sage East Cloud, suddenly spoke up: "Could we say it was the work of The Abyssal Pavilion?"

Sage South Rain shot Pierce a look of pure disgust but remained silent. The other elders, however, showed no objection to this proposal.

"Ah... that's not a bad idea," Sage East Cloud mused. "But how would we present it?"

Sage Mortius Crane's eyes darted between the assembled elders, noting only Sage South Rain's furrowed brow. His lips curved into an amused smile. "We could say The Abyssal Pavilion dug an underground chamber, imprisoned some cultivators, and set up soul-absorption formations. Our poor Celestial Sword Sect disciple Flint accidentally triggered the formation, resulting in her current state with the resentment force."

"But Flint didn't absorb any souls!" Seedling burst out again. Sage West Wind quickly placed a calming hand on her head.

This time, it was Sage East Cloud who interrupted her: "Well... if that's what happened, then Flint is innocent... I'll explain it to the Immortal Alliance... And Sage Mortius Crane's explanation does seem quite plausible..."

Sage South Rain's frown deepened. "You would have Flint bear the stigma of soul absorption for the rest of her life..."

"But she would be considered innocent," Sage East Cloud placated. "It would all be the work of The Abyssal Pavilion..."

Sage South Rain's hands clenched into fists.

"We'll investigate later," Sage East Cloud concluded. "Once we uncover the truth, we can clear her name. Right now, we just need an explanation."

"I hear you."

As darkness crept across the sky like a veil drawn over hidden truths, Flint completed her final tribute and kowtow. The brownish-red aura that had surrounded her had finally dissipated. She rose shakily, making her way toward the grand hall. Her forehead was raw and bloodied from the repeated prostrations, leaving crimson marks where she had knelt.

Seeing Flint approach, Spark rushed forward to support her. She didn't resist, allowing him to bear some of her weight.

Sage Mortius Crane observed Flint, now free of the resentment force, and a sudden realization struck him: She can cleanse others of resentment force.

A similar thought occurred to Sage East Cloud, though his expression remained impassive.

Sage South Rain trembled as she touched Flint's wounded forehead. "Flint, are you alright?" But even as she asked, she knew the answer was clearly no.

Blood had dried on Flint's lips, but she managed a weak smile. "Thank you, Sage South Rain." Finally able to focus, she concentrated the Genesis energy in her throat, allowing the Light and Shadow natural aura to flow separately within her body. At last, the bleeding from her eyes and mouth ceased.

Sage East Cloud addressed Flint with an air of paternal concern: "Dear child, we now understand that you were wrongfully implicated by The Abyssal Pavilion. We will prove your innocence. You may return to rest now."

Flint's gaze remained cold as she shifted her attention to Sage South Rain, whose face was etched with sorrow. The elder gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Though Flint had been focused on her ritual and kowtows, she had heard every word of their earlier discussion.

Unable to think of a better solution in the moment, she turned back to Sage East Cloud, her eyes still devoid of warmth. "Thank you, Sect Leader."

Sage East Cloud then addressed the other three cardinal elders: "You may all retire now. Thank you for your efforts today."

———

As they were ushered out of the Heaven-Piercing Grand Hall, Seedling's eyes blazed with fury as she rounded on Spark. "You treacherous wolf! How could you doubt Flint?"

Despite her exhaustion, Flint spoke calmly from where she leaned against Spark's shoulder. "Seedling, he didn't see what happened in there." Her measured words carried no blame, only weariness.

Flint's understanding response sparked a flicker of gratitude in Spark's heart, though guilt still gnawed at him. "Flint, I..." The words caught in his throat as he struggled to explain his moment of doubt.

"I'm sorry..." was all he could finally manage, his voice heavy with regret.

Given their conditions - Flint's weakness and Seedling's broken leg - they were both assigned ground floor guest quarters, sparing them the need to climb stairs to their usual dormitories.

Spark now brought meals to both of them, and they would gather in Seedling's room to eat together. They chose her room since she was the one currently unable to walk, just as they had previously gathered in Flint's room when her leg had been injured.

The underground prison was swiftly demolished, with officials citing the discovery of forbidden soul-absorption runes linked to The Abyssal Pavilion. The promised vindication of Flint's innocence seemed destined to remain an unfulfilled pledge.