Chapter 65
He stared at Deonis as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.
“Have you nothing to say—to my magic-tool maker?”
Pressed by Deonis, Serel flushed crimson to the roots of his hair from sheer humiliation. He longed to snap back at him, yet all that escaped his lips was a faint groan.
“If there has been any misunderstanding, I shall clarify everything before the Goddess.”
Gathering what little composure he could, Serel continued with trembling lips.
“However, Your Grace, I implore you to open a trial and prove that this magic-tool maker is far from innocent.”
Then, turning to the soldiers, he commanded:
“Seize the criminal at once!”
The soldiers who had slandered Melody just moments before hesitated now, unable to step forward after witnessing that sacred radiance. Deonis glared at the High Priest with cold fury.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Regardless of the knights’ return, the accusations against the magic-tool maker remain unresolved.”
“We were pursued by a Grizzlyfang, not Celt-ants. That alone proves she did not incite the monsters with her tools.”
“There is one thing Your Grace does not know.”
Serel lifted his chin with insolent boldness.
“And what is that?”
“While Your Grace was in the forest, the wicked magic-tool maker spread disease within the expedition.”
At the absurd accusation, Deonis let out a sharp, disbelieving huff. Even Ryan, who had been silently watching, burst in.
“High Priest—that matter was already settled, was it not?”
“No, Your Highness. Last night, one untreated patient passed away.”
Ryan’s eyebrows shot up.
“Not a single one was in critical condition. How could such a thing happen?”
“Someone had been concealing their symptoms. Now that the barrier is restored and the monsters are gone, it is time to reveal the rot hidden within.”
Awhin, unable to bear more, stepped in.
“Your Holiness, did Melody not risk her life to save countless people?”
“Sir Awhin, is one life worth more than another? Under the Goddess, all lives hold equal weight.”
“…Then let the trial proceed.”
Deonis spoke as he exchanged a look with Melody. She was exhausted already—he hated subjecting her to this—but the trial was inevitable. Ryan lacked the strength to suppress the temple.
If a trial must happen, it was better to give Serel no time to twist the truth.
“If anyone is guilty, they shall bear punishment—equal beneath the Goddess.”
With solemnity, Serel gave his orders, and soldiers approached Melody.
“This way, please… We will escort you.”
Their excessive politeness hardly suited someone they called a criminal, but the light they had witnessed had clearly shaken them. Deonis stepped in front of them.
“I will take her myself.”
The temporary prison was a lone tent set apart from the rest. Inside was a single crude cot, nothing more. After inspecting it, Deonis turned to Melody.
“Do not be afraid. Nothing will happen.”
“I’m not worried. I’ve committed no crime.”
She spoke as though reassuring him. Rage toward Serel flared anew in Deonis’ chest.
Dering approached him the moment he stepped out of the tent, his expression darker than in the forest. He led Deonis toward the shadowed edge of the woods.
“What is it?”
“The High Priest sought me out. He told me to testify against Lady Melody. But the testimony he asked for…”
“What did he want you to say?”
The accusations against Melody concerned events within the barrier. Why any testimony from Dering was needed puzzled Deonis.
Dering spoke grimly:
“He asked how we returned. I told him we killed the Grizzlyfang. Then he asked if I used illegal magic tools in the forest… and demanded I testify to that in the trial.”
A dangerous glint flashed in Deonis’ eyes. Serel clearly intended to twist Melody’s magic tools into weapons of slaughter.
“I know one must reveal the truth… but she saved many lives—mine included. I cannot fathom accusing someone like her of more crimes…”
“How far did you speak?”
Dering clenched his damp fists.
“I mentioned the thread-shaped tool used to cut the Grizzlyfang’s leg… The High Priest immediately sent people to retrieve evidence. I didn’t have time to mention the hammer… Though Lady Melody said she used it to handle monster corpses at the temple…”
“That is enough. Testify only to that. If there is guilt, the appropriate punishment will follow.”
“W-what?!”
Deonis continued through clenched teeth:
“Testify only about the thread-shaped tool. You left your quarters today—not at all. You never met me.”
Realizing the duke’s intent, Dering nodded.
“I remained in my quarters… and did not meet Your Grace.”
“How long since the High Priest left you?”
“I ran here immediately—five minutes at most.”
Deonis moved at once.
He reached the tent just in time to see a knight of the Holy Order stepping out with a long, narrow bundle held carefully to his chest. Melody’s magic tool—no doubt.
Before the man could even gasp, Deonis struck from the shadows. The knight collapsed without a sound. After checking his pulse, Deonis pried the bundle from his arms.
He wanted nothing more than to kill him on the spot—but that would endanger Dering.
He nudged the unconscious knight’s face with his boot, memorizing it.
“I will remember you.”
He muttered, opening the bundle. As expected, Melody’s magic tool was inside.
After brief thought, he headed to Gerson’s temporary forge and grabbed a hammer of similar shape. Walking back out, he tossed the hammer beside the fallen knight—as if that were the tool he had stolen.
Inside Serel’s tent, Awhin pleaded:
“Your Holiness, from all I have witnessed, Lady Melody is not someone who would ever sicken others intentionally.”
Serel rubbed between his brows.
“Sir Awhin, a trial is not about personal sentiment. What matters are the facts established. Even if it was accidental, the magic-tool maker cannot escape responsibility for a knight’s death. You agree, do you not?”
Awhin’s jaw clenched.
“Lady Melody risked her life to prove her innocence and save others. Had she died in that forest, would the temple truly claim no responsibility?”
“How can you compare the temple to a mere magic-tool maker? You, of all people—a knight of the Goddess.”
Awhin bit his lip in guilt. Serel was not wrong. The temple, acting under the Goddess’ will, could not be equated with an individual.
And yet… something in him refused to settle. A shadow of doubt had begun the moment Serel tried to stop him from joining the expedition.
Perhaps the one he believed to be the Goddess’s representative…
was not what he seemed.
