Chapter 145: The Tin Knight and The City of Scales (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 145: The Tin Knight and The City of Scales (5)
Adel retorted, almost having a fit.
“I have nothing to do with the Lennart Mask!”
“Yes, that’s right, you don’t. But I told you to wear a mask, not to call yourself the Lennart Mask. And I’m not asking you to wear it alone, so calm down.”
“Oh. Ah. R-Right.”
Adel’s bluster deflated once more.
Suppressing the urge to keep teasing her slightly blushing cousin, Maris explained.
“I’m thinking of creating a special unit. One that, externally, has no connection to our family, but in reality, moves for our family’s benefit.”
Like a villain recalling a wicked prank, the corners of Maris’s lips curled up slightly.
“The special unit will have two main objectives. First, to crush anyone who has clashed with us in the past, or any new enemies we encounter.”
“You don’t mean… kill them all, do you?”
“That would be cleaner, but beating them to a pulp and leaving them alive isn’t a bad option either. Having them wander around in tatters will serve as good advertising to others.”
“What’s the second objective?”
“To escape without standing trial.”
“What?”
Maris shrugged.
“This is ultimately a battle of face. Now that our family’s prestige has been so damaged, the prestige of the Kingdom of Heaven—or more accurately, the Lord of Justitia—must be chipped away by an equal measure. Only then will our people be satisfied that we’ve landed a blow and willingly back down.”
“And that method is… not standing trial and not paying fines?”
“Sounds childish, doesn’t it? But it’s surprisingly effective. It means that for all the talk of the Kingdom of Heaven’s authority, it doesn’t apply to outlaws. You might think it’s petty, but that’s how battles of pride work.”
Outlaws who would crush those with ill-fated ties to the Lennart dojos, all while evading any proper judgment for their actions.
Everyone would suspect the Lennart family, but that didn’t matter, Maris said.
In fact, it was better for it to be an open secret.
However, she also stressed that no direct evidence could be left behind, so they had to avoid being captured at all costs.
“I need at least one more person with outstanding skills. We have plenty of talent within the family, but the number of people we can deploy to another country is limited.”
“So you chose me.”
“As the winner of the Thracus martial arts tournament, your skills are beyond doubt. The problem is the reward…”
Maris paused, letting the silence hang.
It seemed partly to organize her thoughts and partly a rhetorical technique to capture her audience’s full attention.
“First, you’ll be certified as having passed the Lennart dojo’s Justitia branch test. But consider that a mere bonus. With your skills, you’d have no problem getting the token even if you took the official test.”
The real offer was next, Maris added.
“—How about I become your patron?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m saying I’ll be your ally in the competition to become the heir of Friedel.”
Adel’s eyes widened, trembling violently.
*
Maris told her there was still time and no need to decide immediately, leaving the choice to her.
The meal served at the mansion was magnificent, a testament to the Lennart family’s power, but Adel had no capacity to enjoy its taste.
Maris’s words echoed in her mind like a voice in a cave.
—Your story with Giselle… well, it’s quite famous within the main family. It should have been ‘extremely famous,’ but there are certain circumstances. And those circumstances are related to whether or not you can become the lord.
—Skipping the details and getting to the point, there are people in the main family who don’t want you to become the lord. And their power and influence are considerable.
—Adelaide. I’m not dismissing your skills or reputation, but the head of a branch family is, like it or not, inevitably tied to the main family. Even if your abilities surpass Giselle’s, if the main family chooses her over you, it will be difficult to reclaim your position as lord. Besides, Giselle herself is no pushover.
—So, make allies in the main family. Increase the number of people who will support you, who will argue that you are the rightful lord. …Ah, and just in case you misunderstand, this doesn’t mean I’ll side with Giselle if you refuse this offer. You can trust me on that. No, really!
“I don’t think she was trying to threaten you, Lady Adel.”
As if reading Adel’s complicated thoughts, Sophia spoke up.
“That woman, Maris, seems to hold you in quite high regard.”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ assesses that for someone who claims to be fond of you, she was being awfully calculating!]
“It’s just that her methods are clumsy. ‘I’ll do this much for you, so you give me this much in return.’ ‘If I take this risk, what can you do for me?’ Once that kind of mindset and way of speaking becomes second nature, even actions born of goodwill can become calculating. Even if that’s not the person’s intention.”
Before disaster struck her family, Adel’s political experience had been limited to attending the social gatherings of rural nobles.
She could hardly imagine how ‘political’ the life of a duke’s daughter from one of the five most powerful families on the continent must be.
“If Miss Maris isn’t trying to deceive or use me, could what she said be true? That there are people in the main family who disapprove of me. Did I do something wrong? Or did the story about me being captured by bandits and almost sold as a slave spread widely…?”
Adel’s voice trembled faintly.
She had held a vague hope that as long as she traveled with the Tin Knight and his party, everything would work out. Now, it felt as if a large shadow had suddenly been cast over that hope.
Just as Adel shrank back in an indescribable gloom and fear, a rough, cold hand rested on her head.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ guarantees that you can leave it to him!]
“Sir Knight?”
The knight’s and the little lion’s eyes met.
Just as a faint look of expectation appeared on the lion’s face, the Tin Knight spoke.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ tells you to warm up a glass of wine!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ declares that he will go and cut off Maris’s head before the drink gets cold!]
…
………….
“Huh?”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ insists that troublesome problems are usually solved by cutting down the person who presented them!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ says he will go and punish the culprit who brought this worry upon his pupil!]
“No, no, no!! You can’t! Absolutely not!”
The gloomy weight pressing down on Adel evaporated in an instant.
Just as no philosopher could continue their philosophical ponderings while watching an Easter Island statue launch into space on a rocket, in the face of a true madman’s lunacy, worrying about the distant future was a luxury. When your life was about to end in ten minutes, who gave a damn about what came later?
For a moment, she clung to the Tin Knight’s waist as he started walking toward Maris’s mansion, holding on with such monstrous strength that the steel creaked and groaned as if it would buckle.
Just as the Tin Knight was thinking this could be good training in itself and that he should try a little harder, a strange murmuring reached the party’s ears.
“A trial, it’s a trial!”
“The trial of the wicked necromancer has begun!”
“They say the Lord himself will be observing!”
The eyes of the tin can, the vampire, and the girl containing N% homunculus met.
They ran toward the center of the commotion.
*
A murmur, a whisper.
A circular crowd formed by the many people who had gathered.
At its center, a man in a black robe knelt, his hands and feet bound.
Soldiers armed with spears stood ready to move at a moment’s notice around the man. In front of him, another man who appeared to be an official of Justitia was shouting something, holding a long parchment.
“—The defendant did, in the dead of night, dig up graves to steal corpses, and stole the livestock of others to perform a wicked ritual with their blood. Do you admit to your crimes?”
The man remained silent.
The official’s eyebrow twitched.
Glancing at someone seated on a chair behind him, the official finally shouted in a loud voice.
“Ahem! Many witnesses have already testified to your crimes! Will you not confess the truth! If you admit your guilt now and beg for mercy—”
“Heh. Heheh.”
A laugh escaped the kneeling prisoner’s lips.
It was an overt sneer.
“Cut the bullshit. I don’t know how long I’m expected to play along with this farce.”
The faces of the soldiers and officials contorted in anger.
The official yelled.
“You cur! How dare you speak so insolently at a sacred trial!”
“Sacred trial, my ass. It’ll all be over once you spit a few questions at the scale anyway. Is a judge even necessary? You could just hang the scale in a confessional booth or something and save on manpower.”
“You dare!”
“Oh, careful now, you look like you’re about to strike me. I hope you’ll place the charge of assault on the scale without fail. Surely, in the noble and virtuous lands of the Kingdom of Heaven, you wouldn’t show favoritism to one of your own colleagues.”
Despite being bound and kneeling, the prisoner exuded an air of utter composure, while the soldiers and the official couldn’t hide their anger and humiliation. Looking at their faces, one could be forgiven for confusing who the prisoner was.
The Tin Knight tilted his head.
Something different from what he had expected was unfolding.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ says it doesn’t seem to be Dorothea who was captured!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ wonders if there’s some rule that necromancers have to color-coordinate in black!]
Adel ignored the second comment and answered only the first.
“You’re right. That’s a relief, but, um…”
She trailed off vaguely.
The reactions of the people around them were strange.
While many showed anger or contempt at the prisoner’s attitude, not everyone looked at him as if he deserved to die. A fair number of them seemed to sympathize with his words or even looked refreshed by them.
Just then, a man who had been watching the proceedings from his chair stood up.
He wore pure white priestly robes and had soft brown hair.
As Adel looked at the man, who had an incredibly gentle and kind appearance, she heard the word people were murmuring.
Lord.
He spoke to the prisoner.
“There is an error in your words. I wish to correct that part.”
“Oh, so the noble priest deigns to bestow his teachings upon this wretched sinner. Should I be so moved by your sermon that I weep?”
Despite the sarcastic remark, the Lord’s smile did not waver.
“First, a trial is not a meaningless and useless act. While it is the will of the great Lord that judges sin, it is the work of imperfect humans to confess it. If testimony were based solely on the words of the judge and witnesses, there would be no guarantee that the verdict is not biased. The sinner has the right to speak of their sins and their justifications, and the trial is the stage that guarantees this right.”
“So, you’re saying this trial is to give me a chance to make excuses?”
“That is correct. If you are truly wronged, then confess that injustice to the scale. The Lord will judge all things righteously.”
The Lord gestured to something on one side of the courtroom.
It was a scale.
Its overall shape was identical to the ones the soldiers carried, but its size was larger than most trees. More importantly, unlike the other scales made of ivory, this one was crafted from a lustrous emerald.
The two pans of the scale were somewhat tilted to one side, apparently in reaction to the sins the official had just listed.
“Now, do you have anything you wish to say?”
The Lord’s demeanor was consistently polite and even amicable toward the prisoner.
Perhaps his heart was changed by this attitude, as the prisoner began to speak.
“…It is true that I took the corpses, but they were all bodies with no surviving relatives. There is no one who can be called a victim.”
The scale did not react.
The prisoner looked at the Lord as if in protest, but the Lord simply smiled as if to tell him to continue.
“You said I stole livestock, but that is an injustice! I paid for them properly!”
This time, the scale reacted.
The black pan, which had been tilted down, rose slightly. The prisoner’s eyes lit up as he continued to pour out his words.
“I had a contract with the farm owners to be supplied with livestock at regular intervals. The term was for half a year, and the price was always to be the same. But then, a rumor spread that I was a necromancer, and their attitude changed. They started demanding ridiculous prices, making excuses about market rates and their reputation!”
At the prisoner’s words, the complexions of a few people who had been watching the trial with relaxed expressions from one side of the courtroom changed.
At a signal from the official, the guards surrounded them.
“I simply left them the originally agreed-upon price and took the livestock I was supposed to receive. They’re the ones who fabricated this story about theft! I’m not the sinner, they are!”
The black pan rose a little more.
Confirming this, the Lord nodded and spoke in a benevolent voice.
“I understand your grievance. Their trial will be held subsequently. Is this the end of your defense?”
“Um, and also.”
The prisoner added a few more things, and each time, the scale either moved or remained still.
“…That is all I have to say.”
“Very well. Then let us confirm the verdict.”
The Lord took a book from his robes and flipped through the pages, aligning them with the scale’s reading.
“Until every corpse you have desecrated turns to a handful of dust, I sentence you to imprisonment. Do you accept the verdict, or will you substitute it with value?”