The Necromancer's Trial
Maria stared blankly up at the mage. Ian Raven, disciple of Eredis. He had just declared that she hadn't killed anyone.
Why? It was unbelievable. No, she couldn't believe it. The madness boiling in her veins—she knew it all too well. For a long time now, Maria had been tormented by the curse of the dead. It was a horrific, repulsive, filthy kind of curse. An endless gluttony. A craving for rotten flesh. Whenever she closed her eyes, the whispers of the dead echoed in her mind, chipping away at her sanity bit by bit.
Maria thought she was already half-mad. It couldn't be helped. Maintaining one's senses while hearing the whispers of the dead was an incredibly difficult task.
So when Eric's corpse lay before her, she simply accepted the reality with calm detachment. Ah. My madness has flared up again. I've killed someone who liked me with my own hands.
She didn't resist when the villagers captured her. In the dark warehouse, she thought and thought. Where exactly did it all go wrong?
So when she lost consciousness again, she wasn't flustered. Even when Ian came chasing after her, she wasn't particularly surprised. She just thought an opportunity had arrived. A perfect chance to put an end to this miserable, painful life.
But Ian didn't kill Maria. Instead, he said this: The one who killed Eric wasn't her.
"But... but...!" Tears streamed endlessly down Maria's cheeks. Unable to even wipe them away, she cried out in anguish.
"There was no one else...! I was the only one who could harm Eric!"
Ian extended his hand to Maria. "Is that really true?"
"...!"
"You don't even fully understand the mystery dwelling in your body yet. And you're so certain? That there really was no one else?"
Maria fell silent. She couldn't refute Ian's words. No. It was more like she didn't want to refute them.
...If she truly hadn't killed Eric. If that was the truth. There could be no greater salvation to make her heart tremble.
"I... I don't know." Maria still couldn't grasp Ian's hand.
"Am I really, really the one who didn't kill Eric?"
Then Ian smiled and said, "Trust the mage's advice."
With trembling fingertips, Maria clasped the hand Ian offered. "I'll... trust you."
Belenca sheathed her sword. Kira smiled warmly, while Jooabil scratched his head, utterly confused. Holding Maria's hand, Ian slowly walked back to the village.
The moment he witnessed Maria's mystery, Ian had found the missing puzzle piece. Now it was time to use the final piece to complete the picture.
Shepherd Pael. That man was the last piece of this incident. Ian planned to interrogate him the moment they returned.
"Aigoo! Mage sir!"
But at the village outskirts, Ian encountered a group of farmers armed with pitchforks and flails—they were clearly the ones who'd mobilized to chase down the escaped Maria. Sure enough, they gasped in shock upon seeing her.
"Witch!"
"The mage caught her!"
Ian scattered darkness to push the farmers back. It was getting dark anyway, making the mystery of darkness easier to handle.
"M-Mage sir?"
"Don't make a fuss. Go home. I've got Maria under control."
"But..."
"But what."
The farmers couldn't even meet Ian's eyes. If there was anyone who could stare down a mage, it wouldn't be some rural bumpkins.
"Um..."
"What now?"
"Sir Lrshah is waiting."
The farmer hesitated before adding, "The lord too."
"The lord?"
Ian hurried to the village square. A bustling crowd had gathered: Sir Lrshah, the villagers, and the entire lord's entourage.
"Ah! You must be the mage Ian Gong!"
A stranger approached Ian familiarly. His neat attire and the horse suggested he was from the lord's group. A man in his early thirties, nothing particularly striking about him.
"Ah. Yeah."
Nobles acting chummy with Ian was nothing new. So he neatly ignored the man.
The man seemed slightly taken aback by Ian's response but remembered he was a mage.
"Aha! I see!"
"...?"
"You stupid, arrogant mage bastard!"
The man suddenly unleashed a barrage of insults. Ian knew exactly what this was: the classic mage taunt.
Ian sighed deeply, suddenly exhausted. A necromancer was on the loose in the village right now... and this guy wanted to try mage taunting in this situation?
"Skip that."
"What? Who do you think you're talking to like that, you dried piss stain!"
"..."
"You nauseating phlegm glob! You toilet shit crumb!"
No. Ian stared at the young noble in disbelief. That wasn't mage taunting; that was just straight-up cursing... He half-wanted to seriously suggest the guy go major in hip-hop.
"Minor baron. No cursing."
"Ah! Sir Lrshah! This isn't just cursing, it's..."
"It's just cursing, so stop."
"R-Really?"
Rural barons didn't know how to do proper mage taunts. They rarely encountered mages, so it was natural.
Sir Lrshah shut down the minor baron in one go and approached Ian.
"Investigation done?"
"I've uncovered quite a bit."
"Good."
Sir Lrshah pointed to an elderly noble. "Baron Dorin came personally to judge the necromancer. He'll deliver the verdict today."
Ian asked just in case, "When does the trial start?"
Sir Lrshah glanced at the fading twilight. "Right after sunset."
In medieval times, a lord holds king-like power in his domain. His rights include taxation, military command, and most fantastically, judicial authority.
Judicial power means the lord's word is the law. Whatever he commands is automatically legal!
Even absurd orders like "Every household must eat mint chocolate before bed" or "All pizzas must have pineapple" can't be challenged. Why? Because the lord's word is law!
He could even arrest a visiting emperor for removing pineapple from his pizza. Emperor or not, breaking the law is breaking the law!
Of course, actually jailing the emperor for skipping pineapple pizza would turn your domain into a smoldering wasteland the next day... but it's a legitimate exercise of rights, making a lord's judicial power terrifyingly absolute.
Before the trial began, Ian asked Sir Lrshah quietly, "Did you find the necromancer?"
Sir Lrshah shook his head. "No. Not a trace left behind."
He whispered quickly, "He's targeting us... or at least drawing our attention."
Ian crossed his arms, deep in thought. "No clues, so we can't even guess what he wants."
"Sir. If my hunch is right... he'll show up at the trial today."
Sir Lrshah froze in surprise at Ian's words. No way... Had he identified the necromancer in that short time?!
"You. Did you find the necromancer?"
"More or less," Ian said. "He's probably after Maria."
"Maria? That novice necromancer?"
Ian shook his head. "Novice is too generous. She's just someone swept up in necromancy."
"Why target a kid like that?"
Ian held back. It was all speculation. They'd only know after clashing. But regardless, Sir Lrshah was genuinely impressed by Ian's abilities.
"Entrusting the investigation to you was the right call."
"Just luck on my part."
Sir Lrshah trusted the mage's wisdom. Ian would surely uncover the truth and find the necromancer.
"I'll trust you."
"What a coincidence. I'm trusting you too, Sir Lrshah."
Sir Lrshah burst into laughter at Ian's quip. "Alright. Let's do this."
The sun set, and torches blazed in the village square. The lord and his retinue. Sir Lrshah. Ian and the villagers. The trial preparations were complete.
"The trial of the necromancer Maria shall now begin!"
Ian observed the lord's group impassively. He'd gathered info around the village and concluded Maria wasn't Eric's killer. He saw no reason for her execution. She was just a poor girl caught in a mystery's sway.
...But that was merely his view. The one holding Maria's life in his hands was, naturally, that lord. Innocent if he said so, death if he decreed it. That was medieval justice.
"The rightful ruler of this land, Baron Dorin, shall judge the necromancer's guilt!"
The trial's MC(?) was the baron's son, the minor baron.
"Baron. Speak."
A doddering old man rose unsteadily from his chair. And the moment Baron Dorin opened his mouth, Ian felt a dizzying wave of vertigo...
"Eeeeeng~ Eeeng~ Eng~"
"Baron. Say 'let's begin.'"
"Waaae~ Me baby baron~ Mama milk~"
"..."
Baron Dorin was... a senile old fool! That was the judge? Ian immediately wanted to object...
"Excuse me. The baron's not quite right in the head. Can he even hold a trial?"
"Hey! Mage! Watch your mouth! What's wrong with the baron?!"
They insisted he could, leaving Ian speechless. If the son said it was fine, what could he say?
Just don't spout nonsense, please. It might actually work out better. Easier to deal with a young noble with floppy ears than a stubborn old coot. The minor baron was wary of Sir Lrshah's authority—a classic rural baron's survival tactic.
"Then explain the situation!"
The minor baron was just the facilitator... Sir Lrshah would handle the actual judging.
Under the villagers' watchful eyes, someone stepped forward and bowed. The pale gravedigger, Joseph.
Joseph explained on behalf of the village.
"Two days ago, the necromancer Maria murdered Robert's son, Eric, with necromancy."
"She lured Eric secretly to a remote forest."
"Then possessed a pre-prepared ghoul and slaughtered him brutally."
"She tried to flee but collapsed from magic backlash, losing consciousness."
"And ended up captured by us."
No sooner had Joseph finished than the villagers erupted.
"Execute the witch!"
"Kill her! Kill!"
"For the village's peace!"
The trial was the lord's right, but also a crucial event. He could rule as he pleased, but that didn't mean he should. Tyrannical rulings sparked rebellions. So the minor lord had to judge Maria carefully.
If Ian and Sir Lrshah weren't here, he'd have sentenced her to death without a second thought. The villagers demanded it! With everyone clamoring to kill her, executing Maria would boost his popularity!
But the trial featured figures even the lord found uncomfortable: Mage Ian and the Pope's knight, Sir Lrshah.
Clack! Clack! A loud staff thumped the ground.
Mage Ian stepped forward, tapping his staff. The villagers—and even the minor lord—fell silent at the mage's appearance.
"Esteemed lord."
As Ian spoke, all eyes focused on him. With calm eyes, he intoned like a song:
"Here and now, I shall reveal three truths."