Chapter 215
Chapter 215
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 215
Chapter Title: Sarcho's Trial
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Sarcho had the security forces wait below the platform under the pretext of turning himself in for his crimes, and he was promptly taken into custody.
The Collegoton Independent Republic's court decided on criminal punishment, and the trial proceedings began.
Sarcho believed this was the price he rightfully owed.
He didn't know the law in detail.
However, the republic's courts naturally followed much of the United Kingdom's legal precedents, and by Sarcho's own judgment, conspiring with an enemy state like that warranted the gallows as a merciful sentence.
But an unexpected turn arrived.
Sarcho had assumed he wouldn't even get a chance to defend himself under military law, yet a lawyer he'd never seen before stepped forward to represent him.
The dwarf lawyer said to the stunned Sarcho,
"I'm not the only one. As soon as we saw the articles about you, every lawyer in Collegoton volunteered to defend you. I'm just here as their representative."
"I have no money."
"Everyone knows that, and they volunteered anyway."
The trial began.
The prosecutor argued that Sarcho had contributed to the deaths of numerous comrades and sided with the enemy United Kingdom, demanding the death penalty.
In the first trial, the court sided with the prosecution.
Sarcho thought it was only natural, but the dwarf lawyer proposed a different strategy.
"Let's use a few legal loopholes to delay the trial."
"Is that necessary?"
"The longer it drags on, the more it works in our favor."
The dwarf lawyer continued,
"You might not realize it, Representative, but there's a massive campaign outside the courthouse to save you."
"No way."
"Word is, there might even be a hearing, and though the president won't attend, other comrades who knew about you are involved."
"I'm just sorry to put them in a difficult spot."
"No. They see this as their chance to save you. The hearing has drawn interest from journalists not just in Collegoton, but worldwide—even from the distant Empire."
"...No way."
Sarcho took a negative stance, arguing that if it were true, he couldn't let the nation descend into chaos, but there wasn't much he could do anyway.
The lawyer handled everything.
As a result, the second trial overturned the verdict.
The dwarf lawyer argued that crimes committed before Collegoton's founding shouldn't be retroactively applied.
The argument was accepted, and Sarcho was dramatically acquitted.
The prosecution immediately appealed.
In the meantime, the lawyer changed; an elf lawyer came to visit Sarcho instead of the dwarf.
"What happened to him?"
"He was injured in a car accident. Fortunately, it's not serious, but he won't be able to represent you for a while."
"How did that..."
The elf lawyer lowered his voice dramatically.
"Rumors say Intelligence was involved."
"...Ah, damn."
"They're even said to be flooding the prosecution with info on you. Luckily, your record is so clean it's leaving them scrambling..."
As Sarcho fell silent, the elf lawyer added,
"But don't worry. They can't act too boldly. Interest in this case exploded after the hearing. Everyone's caught up in secularism fever. If this wraps up well, you'll have another trial ahead."
"Pardon?"
"Your speech was printed and sold without permission. If it were free giveaways, fine—but some are profiting off it. As the author, shouldn't you get the royalties?"
"No... that's..."
The final trial convened.
The elf lawyer said to Sarcho as they entered the courthouse,
"Today's hearing might get noisy."
"Why? Is there a reason?"
"They approved a demonstration outside the courthouse."
As the trial time arrived, voices from the crowd outside became audible.
Faint but discernible to Sarcho:
"Free Sarcho!" "We forgive Sarcho!" and the like.
The prosecutor countered that even if pre-founding, Schwanel revolutionaries—core members plotting a revolutionary government—warranted punishment for their precursor crimes.
The elf lawyer countered with the opposite logic.
If so, wasn't Sarcho contributing to the founding to atone for his crimes?
"If he hadn't rejoined the revolutionaries, this trial wouldn't even be happening. He always intended to confess these buried truths. If pre-founding crimes demand payment, his pre-founding achievements must be weighed too."
The elf lawyer added that despite his parliamentary seat, Sarcho had little money because—beyond minimal living expenses—he donated to funds for families of the first revolutionaries' victims, apologized to those families who knew, and received forgiveness from some.
The verdict took time.
In the end, Sarcho was sentenced to 20 years of labor reeducation.
The court acknowledged his deception of the revolutionary precursors (the government's forerunners), leading to many deaths, but noted he hadn't fully grasped the United Kingdom's brutality and showed ongoing remorse and reflection.
The elf lawyer paled, apologizing to Sarcho, who waved it off.
"Something I never even imagined happened—what's there to be sorry for?"
Sarcho was shocked it wasn't death, yet inwardly mocked his own quiet joy.
'All that talk of staking my life or reflecting—it's just wanting to live, after all.'
On the day he boarded the transport to the Schwanel reeducation camp, Sarcho finally saw the massive crowd cheering him.
"You saved us, sir!"
"Sarcho is innocent!"
"The revolution lives on!"
"We forgive you!"
Voices poured out until Sarcho left Schwanel behind.
He thought that if he survived long enough, it'd be nice to see the changed republic someday.
"...That's what I thought, for sure."
Months later, Sarcho returned to Schwanel.
Back at the courthouse unrestrained, he met someone in the reception room.
It was Dain.
"Special pardon."
"...Special pardon."
"The president's authority to remit punishment. Legislation took time."
Sarcho said,
"They passed a law for my sake?"
"Yes."
"There must've been... plenty opposed."
Dain agreed.
"At first. But Intelligence's meddling came out. A whistleblower exposed prosecutor ties; journalists tore it apart. Comrade Rolls, who orchestrated it all, is now in your old cell. His first trial's soon."
Sarcho shook his head in disbelief.
"And the public? Surely some wanted me dead in that camp."
"Some, yeah. But this is a republic. A few opinions don't make it happen. Everything follows procedure—and extremes rarely pass it."
"But Intelligence tried allying with the Lubeil revolutionaries. Plenty must've supported that."
Dain said,
"That plan's scrapped. Thanks to your speech."
"Really?"
"While you were in jail and the camp, newspapers' second-most common word was 'secularism.'"
Dain explained,
"Makes sense when you think about it. People are exhausted. Over 80 years of war. Even if the Empire's scum, we can't fight forever. Our grueling labor-filled lives? All because of war. We were born into it, blind to before—but records show life wasn't this harsh. If some want to fight, let them. Not everyone has to."
Sarcho agreed.
As an independent nation, they needn't follow the United Kingdom's path.
The Kingdom's war obsession stemmed from the Empire, but its roots were the gods' conflicts.
If the gods tacitly allowed secularism, people would follow it naturally.
"By the way, what was the newspapers' top word?"
"You... Comrade Sarcho's name."
"...Embarrassing."
Dain said,
"No worries. Many have forgiven you. There's a story going around too."
"A story?"
Dain continued,
"Someone who knew you were a United Kingdom plant tried assassinating you. But you, regretting your actions, told him to do it. He thought it was a trick to survive. Yet you didn't dodge or block—just took the bullet. So your words were sincere."
Sarcho felt an odd sensation.
An event he'd lived, now hearing like a stranger's tale.
He could imagine how others took it.
Dain said,
"So people say: that day, the United Kingdom's plant Sarcho died, leaving only our great revolutionary comrade Sarcho."
Sarcho couldn't immediately resume his parliamentary seat but was recognized as a senior Revolutionary Party member.
Many wanted to meet him: Collegoton reporters, foreign journalists, scholars seeking private audiences, even invitations from the distant Empire.
Sarcho met as many as possible but declined time-sinks with "National duties are urgent; I can't step away."
Tensions between revolutionary forces and United Kingdom provincial troops were easing.
Secularism breathed new life into the revolution.
Separate from Empire-backed upheavals, those unsure of their stance borrowed Sarcho's concept.
Those fearing divine punishment joined revolutions; rulers using heresy as pretext were swept away by revolutionary waves.
As the second revolutionary wave hit, provincial troops prioritized local revolts over inactive revolutionaries.
Moreover, fronts bordering the Empire worsened.
Rumors from the United Kingdom said the kingdom, barely enduring internal revolutions, now showed signs of collapse.
Gazing at the world map on the assembly hall wall, Sarcho pondered future global shifts, Collegoton's responses, and above all, his own role.
Unintended, but people hung on his every word.
Yet amid these thoughts, arriving at his office, Sarcho felt déjà vu.
Habitually checking the hinge, the pencil lead was snapped.
The handle's ointment was wiped clean.
Clearly an intruder—but not the wandering lizardman he'd met, nor the mostly replaced Intelligence crew.
'A United Kingdom operative wouldn't botch an intrusion this amateurishly. Who...?'
Then, incredibly, voices conversed from inside.
'Did I leave the door open? Not intruders—maybe secretaries...'
On a hunch, Sarcho drew his pistol and flung the door open.
"...Why the hell are you bursting in like that?"
"My fault again?"
"This time it is your fau—huh?"
Two people.
The first voice: a froglin man. The second: a human woman, it seemed.
Both unfamiliar faces.
Sarcho quickly aimed his pistol; the human woman, spotting him late, already had a sword drawn.
'Did I miss? Already unsheathed?'
But no sword could stop bullets—Sarcho held full advantage.
Sarcho demanded,
"Who are you?"
The human and froglin exchanged glances.
The froglin turned to Sarcho and said,
"We're not here to threaten you."
"Then?"
"We're looking for a lizardman called Owen."