Chapter 157: Gift (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 157: Gift (3)
I attended the trial in person, seated in the gallery to observe the proceedings. I had no choice; this was a matter that would never be disclosed to the press.
As expected, the proceedings were a farce. Due to Oswin’s background and sheer stubbornness, the petition had been accepted, but the trial itself was rigged from the start.
The Imperial Guard refused to yield, and the judge was firmly in their pocket. No—not just the judge. This entire judiciary would likely become their property before long.
"There is a very high probability that the family tree is a forgery."
The witnesses requested by the Imperial Guard spoke. From the mouths of bribed appraisers, the word 'forgery' echoed like a rhythmic chant.
On the other hand, Professor Oswin had no witnesses. This was only natural. Opposing the Imperial Guard was a quick way to find a noose around one's neck before they even realized what had happened.
"……Counsel. Prior to the trial date, you failed to submit any witness request forms."
Even at the judge’s prompting, Professor Oswin remained silent. Did he truly have nothing to say, or had he already surrendered?
"Counsel. Are you forfeiting your defense?"
As the judge pressed him, Oswin finally raised his head.
"……No. Although I have not submitted a formal witness request," he began, gritting his teeth as if he had reached a desperate resolution. "In accordance with the Court Witness system, I would like to request a new witness—one currently present in this courtroom—to serve as an appraiser."
The Court Witness system. It was a provision that allowed anyone present in the courtroom, including those in the gallery, to be summoned to the stand on the spot without prior procedures.
"……From this room?"
"Yes. The witness I wish to call is sitting right there in the gallery."
He filled out and submitted the request form. As the judge looked it over, his expression visibly wavered.
I, too, found myself suddenly intrigued.
"I… call upon the Knight of Sentinel sitting over there."
The professor spoke those bizarre words and shifted his gaze. His unwavering eyes locked onto mine.
"I would like to request Sir Maximilian Ebenholtz as our appraiser."
It was a development I hadn't even considered. Oswin pointed at me, and every head in the gallery turned in unison. The sudden concentration of gazes and the dramatic flair of his words felt almost theatrical.
"……"
Suddenly, I was genuinely curious. I quietly met Oswin’s gaze. Since when did he know I was here?
"……O-Objection!"
The Imperial Guard’s legal team sprang up like coiled springs.
"Your Honor! Such a sudden witness request, completely unannounced, will cause chaos in the court and compromise the integrity of the trial!"
They babbled nonsense, but the judge ignored them, studying my reaction instead. He was trying to read my intentions, once again measuring the weight of power.
Those bought with gold kneel to greater wealth; those who pander to power cling to the strongest hand. It is the inescapable logic of the law of the jungle.
"Sir Maximilian. Will you accept the request to serve as a witness?" the judge asked politely.
I considered it for a moment, then removed my hat and gave a small nod.
"Yes. Please come forward to the witness stand."
I rose from my seat and walked down the center aisle of the courtroom. I stepped up to the stand situated just beneath the judge's bench.
"……"
Oswin and the Imperial Guard. The judge and the clerk. And Sarah Muller, the mother of the wrongfully detained man, watching me with bated breath. Fortunately, there was no one from Izenheim among them.
I spoke to Oswin Mason.
"Counsel. Please present the list of evidence and all relevant records."
He placed a thick stack of documents before me.
— Tick.
The second hand moved.
Time passed.
Oswin repeatedly wiped his face as if his skin were burning, while Maximilian reviewed the evidence in total silence. His expression remained an unreadable mask. That stillness, in every sense, ratcheted up the tension in the room.
— Tick.
In the lobby outside the courtroom, lawyers who had just heard the news couldn't hide their bewilderment.
"No, what on earth is happening…?"
"Why would Professor Oswin—"
"More importantly, why was Maximilian even in there?"
"Why else? He must have come to monitor the proceedings."
"Is Maximilian really a better option than the Imperial Guard?"
"Hardly."
Maximilian. The lawyers were baffled that one of the primary architects of the Imperial Citizenship Act was now examining the authenticity of a commoner's lineage. There was no way an imperialist, more steeped in elitism than any other noble, would side with a commoner framed as an ideological criminal.
"Even so, Maximilian is… one of the main figures who drafted the Act."
"Let’s just watch. You never know."
They bit their lips, letting out heavy, anxious sighs.
— Tick.
Meanwhile, in Sonette Kandel’s office, she received the news. Informants she had scattered throughout the courthouse were busily relaying the situation to her.
"……"
Sonette pushed up her glasses as she read the messages.
To be honest… she was hoping for Oliver Muller’s safety. It was a sentiment born of friendship. No matter how callously she had been raised within the Imperial Palace, she wasn't entirely devoid of human emotion.
Oswin Mason, the mentor who had taught her law and reason since childhood. Oliver Muller, the student who was always buried in his books in the corner of the academy.
The sole reason she had gone out of her way to facilitate this trial—even indebting herself to Maximilian for a case that normally wouldn't have seen the light of day—was simple.
It was a gift for them.
They were the people who reminded her that a woman named Sonette Kandel had a past, and that she, too, possessed human emotions.
For all of you.
"Hmm……"
Sonette let out a faint sigh and quietly closed her eyes. The shadows of the room enveloped her in a somber embrace.
— Tick.
The air in the courtroom was freezing. It was bone-chillingly silent; not even the sound of breathing could be heard. Every eye was fixed on a single point.
Maximilian was examining the family tree, sentences and seals reflected in his sharp retinas.
"……"
Before long, he tapped the documents to align them and set them down. Looking around at the people filling the room, he finally spoke.
"Although I am not a professional appraiser who analyzes documents for a living…"
At that single sentence, the entire courtroom stiffened. The very air seemed to lean toward him. In the grip of extreme tension, they stared at his lips, waiting for the verdict.
"Since ancient times, the Empire has thoroughly and meticulously managed bloodlines and family registers to prove Aran lineage."
Soon, a fever of obsessive scrutiny—a madness for verifying even the most ancient ancestral records—would sweep across the Empire.
"The family tree of the grandparents from thirty years ago submitted by the defense, as well as the original birth certificates of the parents."
Maximilian’s long, pale fingers slowly swept over the aged parchment.
"The age and wear of the paper, the degree of discoloration in the ink used for the signatures."
— Tick.
"Above all, the wear marks on the iron seal stamped by the government office, and even the minute difference in pressure the stamp left on the grain of the paper."
He had scoured and cross-checked every inch of the documents.
"This family tree……"
Transparently, without adding or hiding a single thing from the naked truth—
"…can be presumed to be authentic. No traces of forgery or alteration were found."
He merely delivered the appraisal.
— Tick.
At his statement, the families belatedly erupted in cheers, while the complexions of the Imperial Guard turned ashen. Even the judge clutched his forehead, looking visibly shocked.
However, Oswin alone remained apart from the uproar, staring blankly up at Maximilian.
"……"
The heir to Ebenholtz, and one of the main drafters of the Imperial Citizenship Act.
If one could set aside prejudice, he was the most precise man for the job. He would not sell his honor just to kill a mere commoner. To execute the law with cold, clinical precision—that was the true face of the noble named Maximilian.
— Tick.
Maximilian, still on the witness stand, suddenly looked at the clock above the courtroom.
— Tick.
It was a grating, haunting sound.
……
They received Maximilian’s official expert opinion that the documents were genuine. The Imperial Guard dared not challenge Maximilian’s authority, and a farce ensued as the appraisers who had previously testified to forgery rushed to retract their statements, claiming they had 'belatedly' discovered grave errors.
"……Thank goodness. Truly, thank goodness."
In the Zestpol office, Oswin Mason looked at the defendant’s mother, Sarah Muller.
"The next hearing has become very advantageous for us."
Sarah Muller covered her mouth with both hands, her shoulders shaking as she struggled to contain her sobs.
"Now, after just a few more nights, your son will return home safely."
"Thank you…… Thank you so much, Professor……"
"No. The thanks shouldn't go to me."
Oswin Mason looked around the office with reddened eyes. Despite it not being their problem, despite having so much to lose by opposing the Imperial Guard, and despite the risk of being branded as ideological criminals, countless lawyers and scholars had gathered here to lend their wisdom to save an innocent young man.
"You should thank everyone gathered here. And," Oswin patted the weeping mother’s hand with a warm smile, "ultimately, it was Oliver’s steadfast character—never giving up even under false accusations—that saved him."
— Knock, knock.
A light knock interrupted them.
"Hmm?"
Who could it be at this hour? Oswin approached and opened the door. Standing there was a woman in a wide-brimmed hat: Sonette Kandel.
"I heard the news. Congratulations, Professor," Sonette said in her usual dry voice.
Oswin’s face brightened. "It was all thanks to your advice. I owe you."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Truly. Even I harbored prejudices. Quite shamefully, I must admit."
"……"
Sonette remained silent, her expression unchanging. Oswin added with fervor, "But this is not the end; it is the beginning. Among the countless youths the Imperial Guard dragged away from Zestpol, there are still so many innocent children wrongfully accused, just like Oliver."
"……"
Not the end, but the beginning. There are still many innocent youths.
Sonette listened quietly. "Yes. I’ll see you later—with Oliver."
She turned around, leaving behind a faint, unreadable smile.
I personally visited the headquarters of the Special Guard battalion tasked with the execution of the Imperial Citizenship Act. I was there to demand the original records for 'Oliver Muller,' the man who had become the centerpiece of this ideological trial.
"His appearance, birth registration, and even his grandparents' records—he is an absolutely perfect, pure-blooded Aran."
"Ah, yes. I'm not well-versed in the field situation. There's a separate investigator who personally dragged him in."
Sitting across from me in the visitation room was Lieutenant Colonel Lorenz. A notorious war criminal from before my regression, he was currently sweating profusely as he made excuses.
"But well, no matter how clean his Aran blood is, if his ideology is impure, locking him up is the whole point of this bill, isn't it?"
If we only nitpick over physical evidence, we'll end up missing the true traitors we actually need to catch. I agree with that sentiment. The proverb, 'Better to let ten guilty men go free than to punish one innocent man,' is merely an incompetence that hastens destruction in this era.
However, the standard and direction are what matter. Our power is limited, and the tip of our blade must be focused solely on Izenheim. We shouldn't exhaust our resources dragging away and imprisoning our fellow Arans.
"If that man conspired to incite rebellion against the execution of Imperial law, he should naturally be punished."
"Exactly! But since those rats hide and whisper in the dark, it's very difficult to tell them apart. Our hardships—"
"It is not difficult," I interrupted, lightly tapping the table and shooting him a cold look. "If you put more effort into regular surveillance and intelligence gathering, that is."
"……Actually, we'd like to do that too. It's just that in this Zestpol night school incident, well, an unusually overzealous investigator tried to unreasonably boost his track record, so..."
Lorenz was desperate to deflect responsibility. He wasn't a soldier like Schweitzer, nor did he have powerful backing like Reutern. He was an incompetent war criminal from a nouveau riche family.
In other words, he was useless trash.
"Then fetch that overzealous investigator and the suspect, Oliver," I said, picking up Oliver’s investigation file.
"……Yes. I will bring them right away."
Lorenz sluggishly slipped out of the room. I waited in silence.
Creak—
Soon, the heavy iron door opened. The moment someone stepped inside, my finger twitched.
...Thump.
Beneath my collarbone, my heart pounded. My face stiffened. I looked away from the documents, slowly raised my head, and stared at the doorway.
Clank.
A bloodied man approached, his wrists bound in handcuffs.
Clank.
He was in a wretched state. His skin had been torn and his bones seemingly broken from torture; he was barely holding himself upright.
Thump—
From the body of 'Oliver Muller'—the young man whose innocence Oswin Mason and countless scholars had pleaded for—my heart palpitated violently once again.
Thump—
I watched indifferently as he slumped heavily into the chair opposite me.
Thump—
The truth crystallized in an instant.
If the family tree was genuine, but a birth certificate was forged for a birth that never actually took place...
In other words, if it was an adoption……
I murmured his name.
"Oliver Muller."
The darkness is deep. Sometimes it flows from places we cannot know, from origins we could never guess. It coils itself in unimaginable places. Perhaps because that is its very nature.
"……Is that your name?"
It seems I still… do not fully understand this world.
* * *
T/N: A quick update, I thought by this time it would on top of trending since it is such a peak novel, lol, I guess not.