The Dragon's Reverse Scale (1)
Not a soul dared to speak in the face of so unexpected a turn.
Even with a face buried under hair and beard grown wild from years of neglect, even with a hunched back and lifeless green eyes — there was no mistaking him. He was the King.
It was the first time I had ever laid eyes on the royal countenance, yet I knew it at once.
The pressure...
I could hardly breathe. His mere presence had turned the atmosphere of the courtroom grave in an instant.
The attendance of a reclusive King was extraordinary enough — but he had not taken the jurors' seats, nor the gallery, nor even a place of honor. He had sat down on her side, among the Queen's supporters.
What that meant, anyone could read.
"...By royal command, he's here to watch us fall."
The Minister murmured under his breath. In the eyes of the man who had revered King Leo more than anyone alive, there was a flicker of agitation.
"If this is how it stands, no amount of evidence or justification will..."
The voice that had been unwavering only moments ago now trembled. He, too, was clearly shaken to his core.
Then Hailin spoke.
"...The game is still playable."
"What?"
"He said he came to observe, did he not? Which means he has no intention of intervening from the start."
The startled Minister turned to look at her.
"You know full well what it means that His Majesty sat on that side of the room?"
"Sitting on that side doesn't mean it's over."
Hailin's fists were clenched so tight they had gone white, yet still she nodded.
"There are things you only learn by striking head-on, old man. Sometimes you have to shatter the boulder with the egg."
At that, it was I who stepped in to encourage the Minister.
"Director Hailin is right. You're the one who told me not to lose heart before the opening bell."
So the King had come. Nothing changed because of it. The trial would proceed either way, and all we had to do was carry out what we had prepared. That was the best move remaining.
"...True. We mustn't be swallowed whole."
The Minister soon recovered his composure and muttered to himself.
"Ahem."
Meanwhile, the silence in the courtroom had stretched on far too long, and one of the Queen's retainers let out a deliberate, pointed cough. The judge, who had been gaping foolishly, finally came to his senses.
"Th-then... I hereby declare this trial officially in session."
Slowly, the rhythm of the room began to right itself.
"This trial has been personally requested by Queen Helena Castor, and concerns the punishment of the defendant, Nathan Kell."
The first procedure of any trial was the reading of charges, followed by the prosecution's opening attack.
"First, the plaintiff. Please present your position, including the defendant's alleged offenses."
The words had barely left the judge's mouth before a sharp-featured man seated beside the Queen rose to his feet.
"Director of Internal Inspection, Pierce..."
The Minister murmured low.
"The defendant, Nathan Kell, in his capacity as an Immigration Officer, bears the duty of treating all entrants with courtesy and of granting entry to any traveler whose purpose is peaceful — regardless of who they may be."
Pierce pointed a finger straight at me.
"And yet, without legitimate grounds, he branded a mere pilgrimage a 'crusading army' and denied them entry. This constitutes a grave diplomatic discourtesy."
The first strike — a claim that cunningly buried a lie inside the truth.
"Do you have evidence to support this?"
the judge asked. In answer, the man produced a neatly folded letter and handed it up to the bench — a formal letter of protest from the Holy Church itself.
"A letter written by the injured party directly."
The judge unfolded it and read the contents aloud in summary.
Insult against the Pope and the Holy Church, and the unjustified denial of entry to a peaceful pilgrimage, whose purpose is peace alone.
A document smeared top to bottom with every lie imaginable rang out through the courtroom.
"Defendant's side. Do you have a rebuttal?"
"Any man with a conscience wouldn't dare."
the Queen sneered.
"Not that a heart that knows no god could manage even that."
"..."
It was a cheap provocation — and yet for a moment something hot surged up my throat.
If following principle is a crime, then what in this world counts as innocence?
It's you people who are lying.
But a gentle hand pressed down firmly on my shoulder.
"This officer's counsel will speak first."
Hailin rose from her seat — and with one hand, shoved the box beside me off the table and under it.
"Heave-ho."
THUD! — and hundreds upon hundreds of documents came spilling out.
"Every piece of rebuttal evidence regarding the protest letter you've just presented — all of it, gathered right here."
"Th-that's all evidence?"
"It is."
She scooped up several bundles, walked over to the judge, and passed them along as she spoke.
"By the Kingdom's entry regulations, an officer does have a duty to show courtesy to all entrants. However!"
"That duty applies only to those who cooperate with the screening process. Furthermore, standing policy instructs officers to deal firmly with anyone whose purpose is doubtful or deliberately concealed."
"Therefore, no matter what rank or station a traveler may hold, it is entirely proper for a screening officer to raise questions about the purpose of their visit."
"And above all — when a crowd of unprecedented size descends upon us as this pilgrimage has, it is likewise an officer's duty to verify not only the group's stated purpose, but the hidden designs of each and every individual within it."
The words poured out of her like water from a broken dam. In the very center of the courtroom, Hailin raised her voice.
"If fulfilling one's duty is made a crime, then who would ever pledge loyalty to this kingdom again?!"
Before such unassailable logic, the Queen's expression twisted.
"Finally — as for the phrase 'peaceful purpose' written at the end of that protest letter, I consider its credibility deeply compromised."
"What nonsense is this?!"
Pierce exploded, shouting — but the judge was faster.
"What exactly do you mean, the credibility is compromised?"
"To explain, I ask the court to grant the floor to Carton Grayson, Minister of Foreign Affairs."
"Permission granted."
Every gaze in the room swung toward the Minister. Carton rose slowly from his seat and spoke in a deliberate, weighty voice.
"Your Honor. Before I was ever Minister of Foreign Affairs, I devoted myself to this kingdom as head of its Intelligence Department."
A brief self-introduction — and with it, the foundation of everything he was about to say. From his coat pocket he drew a single sheet of paper and passed it to Hailin.
"Shortly after the pilgrimage set out, my department received an urgent report. Intelligence indicated signs of the Evil God Cult's revival, and that war materiel was amassing in the northern reaches of the continent."
Hailin's hand carried it straight to the judge.
"In light of this, the Central Officer's suspicion of the pilgrimage was not reckless paranoia, but a reasonable inference drawn from credible intelligence."
Argument rooted in principle and procedure. A rational basis for suspicion.
And physical evidence to underpin it all.
So THIS is what the two of you prepared!
It was flawless. A defense so clean it took the breath away.
"...Indeed. One could certainly see it that way."
The judge, having read the urgent report, nodded slowly.
"Plaintiff's side. Do you have a rebuttal — or additional charges to add?"
"Well, that is..."
Perhaps because sound logic was landing harder than he'd expected, the Director of Internal Inspection looked toward the Queen with a flustered expression. She glanced sideways at the King seated beside her.
"..."
But the King showed not the slightest interest. His face remained utterly blank. Helena clicked her tongue in visible displeasure before answering.
"...Then let us request witnesses as well."
"Very well. Who are your witnesses?"
The names that followed were familiar to the point of nausea.
"His Holiness Escabar III, Pope of the Holy Church."
"Mohaim Espirentse, Commander of the First Holy Knight Order."
"And Saintess Erzena Selaphe."
A stir rippled through the courtroom.
"Th-the Pope?!"
"The Pope is attending this trial?"
Every one of them was a heavyweight name carrying enormous political and religious weight. The Queen concluded her statement with supreme confidence.
"That makes three witnesses in total."
"Accepted. Their participation is permitted."
The moment those words fell, the doors of the courtroom opened.
— creeeak.
And in walked two all-too-familiar faces.
"Gah...!"
"The Knight Commander and the Saintess... it's really them...!"
Mohaim and Erzena strode into the courtroom. Even Hailin and Carton were visibly thrown.
"H-how are they here already?!"
"...The moment the pilgrimage passed through, they must have sent a carriage straight for the castle."
I was the only one not surprised.
Once they had taken their place on the Queen's side, Mohaim promptly produced a communication crystal and activated it.
— vwooom.
In the same instant, the benevolent face of the Pope appeared within it.
"A pleasure to meet you all, honored figures of the Crossline Kingdom."
The man I never wished to see again spoke in a leisurely, unhurried voice.
"Your Holiness — no, witness. Are you aware of the reason you are being called to this trial?"
"Ah, the presiding judge, I presume. Of course I am. Now then — allow this old man a few words."
He squared his shoulders and began his testimony.
"This pilgrimage was what the Lord Himself willed. But that officer, blinded by vain suspicion, declared their entry denied — and as a result, the Lord grew wrathful."
A solemn voice wrapped itself around the entire courtroom. The audacity of the man was beyond all bounds. The Queen nodded along as if in solemn agreement.
The Pope gestured toward the Saintess at his side.
"Even the holy power of the Saintess standing here has been stripped away — another consequence of that wrath. The Lord's journey, which none may obstruct, was brought to a halt."
And true to his word, the golden aura that had always wreathed the Saintess was indeed gone. Only now did the onlookers notice Erzena's vanished halo, and a low murmur ran through the gallery.
"We lodge our most emphatic protest. Whoever obstructed a peaceful pilgrimage merely passing through, in forgetfulness of a neutral nation's proper duty, deserves punishment."
Having delivered his conclusion with surgical neatness, Escabar turned his gaze toward the Queen's side of the room.
"Isn't that so, His Majesty King Leo Castor?"
Named and singled out so pointedly, the King's eyes moved for the very first time. For a moment, he simply stared at the Pope within the crystal orb.
The man who had sought to cross the border with war in his heart, and the man who had staked his life to stop him.
By some strange twist of fate, the bitter enmity of fifteen years ago now stood gathered under one roof, on the same side of the room.
Beside me, the Minister gazed at the King with desperate, dwindling hope.
"Your Majesty. Please, wake up..."
But the King's answer shattered every one of Carton's fervent expectations.
"...That is so."
"I understand the punishment for this immigration officer is execution. We ask that it be made an example of."
And so they laid bare their final objective.
My death.
"If you doubt me, allow me to play a portion of the conversation we shared at the time. These are the Central Officer's own words, spoken directly — certain to serve as proof."
With that, the Pope touched the crystal orb — and my own voice, taut with fury, rang out through the courtroom.
There it was, recorded beyond all doubt — my own declaration that their purpose was a crusade.
"That concludes my testimony. I say it once more — to call a peaceful pilgrimage a crusading army is a grievous, grievous insult."
Words brimming with conviction, to the point of cruelty.
"And I received it as an insult and a degradation directed at our entire Church."
There it was — the statement I had feared above all others. The Pope himself naming the charge outright.
Unable to hold back any longer, Hailin cried out.
"But look at the mountain of hard evidence right here! A force armed far beyond its stated headcount, the escort of the First Holy Knight Order, the highly unusual presence of the Saintess herself—"
Even that was cut short by the judge's voice.
"Her Holiness's claim is a valid one. At the same time, it would appear there are indeed elements that can reasonably be taken as insult."
"Your Honor!"
"However the matter may turn on subjective interpretation, it remains an affair that may constitute a diplomatic discourtesy."
Little by little, the room was beginning to side with the Pope.
"Then, finally — does the defendant's side wish to make its closing argument?"
A closing argument.
Which meant the judge had already made up his mind.
In other words — we had been driven into a corner, utterly and completely. There was almost no way left to win.
Every eye in the courtroom turned to me.
"...Yes."
I rose slowly from my seat, looked the judge in the eye, and spoke.
"I request the attendance of one final witness."
"A witness to what, exactly?"
"A witness who will prove the true purpose of the pilgrimage — and this officer's innocence."
"Permission granted. Who is the witness?"
I raised my hand and pointed. Every gaze in the room followed my finger.
Straight to one woman — standing among the Queen's own party.
"Erzena Selaphe."
My final card. My last resort.
The single most decisive weapon — one that could only be played when the enemy was certain of victory.
"This officer requests the Saintess of the Holy Church as his witness."
An uproar burst across the courtroom.
"Th-the Saintess? He's calling their witness as his own?!"
"He's lost his mind."
"Figured he'd already lost."
The Pope laughed as if the whole thing were absurd.
"I confess I don't follow this move, Central Officer. What could make Erzena your witness?"
But the laughter did not last long.
"I will accept the request."
"...I beg your pardon?"
The courtroom erupted louder than ever.
"Saintess! What in the world are you—"
The Queen's cry pitched toward a shriek — but the Saintess's voice cut her off.
"I swear before the Lord, from this moment onward, to speak nothing but the truth."
Erzena walked slowly over and took her place beside me. She laid her hand upon mine where it rested on the table, and a warm golden glow shimmered faintly between our fingers.
Her eyes met mine. When I gave a silent nod, she turned her gaze forward once more.
She drew a deep breath — and then, so that every soul in the room could hear, she spoke.
"This pilgrimage is a lie."
The blade had found the dragon's reverse scale.