Chapter 48 - Price for Freedom [1]
“Urgh… my head hurts.” I rubbed my temples in pain.
How long have I been asleep?
“Right… Scarlett beat me up without giving me a chance to explain me why. Isn’t that great?” I regained my senses and looked around the room.
“…Where am I?” I noticed magic circles surrounding me, confining me in a small, enclosed space.
—Cring…
I tried to move my hands to rub my eyes, but shackles bound them, preventing any free movement.
The magic circle was also draining my strength, just like that pill they tried to force on me every day.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening.
“Sigh…” I closed my eyes, knowing this would happen—I just didn’t expect it so soon.
Looking back, a lot had happened that night.
I returned to my room after gathering valuable information, only to be overwhelmed by the difference between the magicians at the top and me, a lousy brat.
I thought I was strong, but fighting Scarlett made me realize I wasn’t.
The gap between us was so vast that even if things went according to plan, there was a 90% chance she would evade my attacks, especially considering how effortlessly she escaped from that Ichor prison.
As tensions reached a breaking point, Camila—or Camellia, now that she had revealed her true self—found a subordinate powerful enough to counter the firepower I had always prided myself on.
That same firepower had once shattered the sky, only to be countered effectively.
All of these mind-boggling events took place in the span of a single night.
“—You’re finally awake.” I heard a deep voice above me as I lay down.
“…Who?” I replied, too tired to look up at him after waking.
“Aren’t you surprised?” He sounded confused for a moment.
“I don’t think I can afford to be surprised, no?” I sighed in exhaustion.
All I wanted was a little rest after escaping from Arcadia. The reward?
—Confinement.
What the hell did I do to deserve being beaten up by the guardian of the Historia family?
“…I suppose Lady Camellia was right.” He asserted, bringing Camellia into the conversation and reminding me of what had happened before I lost consciousness.
Seeing her for the first time in days, she had stabbed me in the neck with a syringe and knocked me out.
I didn’t mind putting my trust in her… but it did leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
“…Who did what say?” I replied, pretending to be clueless about the person named Camellia.
“That you’re a clever girl who knows what she's doing.” He said, expecting my oblivious response.
To speak properly to me, I heard rustling sounds, and—
—Fwoop…!
“Mweh…?” I was abruptly lifted from the floor, held by the armpits like a cat.
“—Oh, you’re that big guy from before.” I calmed down when I recognized him.
“I don’t faze you?” He brushed off the dirt on my clothes and set me down, sitting in front of him.
“I mean, you know how scary Eldians are in comparison, right?” I recalled what each of the Eldians looked like.
Their grotesque appearances haunted my mind due to how traumatic they were.
At this point, nothing could faze me since I had faced opponents at least a hundred times stronger than myself.
“Ha… Hahaha!!! I like you, girl.” He laughed at my response and patted my head with his rough hands.
—Rustle Rustle...
"Wah." I didn't expect his sudden physical contact on my head, causing it to bob left and right.
Such a response would be creepy without context, but I don't feel anything from him.
Back when I was walking around the city, many people were staring at me with bewilderment, curiosity, and even excitement.
It didn't feel pleasant, that's for sure.
What would have happened if Kleinford weren't such a nice place to live? I might have been kidnapped since I looked pretty young for my age and was defenceless.
Although I speak as if I don't care about anything... he was quite the monster himself.
He had brown skin, white ashen tattoos, and visible scars all over his body. I could tell he had been through countless battles in his life.
He was frighteningly tall—around eight feet or more—which meant he was genuinely twice my height, considering I was at least four feet tall... at a minimum, yeah.
There are many races in this world, though not in the traditional fantasy sense.
If someone were to tell me he belonged to the Giant Race, a race that doesn’t exist, I would have believed them.
“Thanks?” I tilted my head, confused by why he was patting my head.
Camellia does the same thing, too. It’s not that I like it or anything.
“Mghaaah~ So, where are we, anyways, uh, mister?” I stretched my arms because my muscles felt stiff.
I felt sore all over after using Ichor to heal some of my wounds, but at least I didn't look as bad at a glance.
It wasn’t as terrible as when I first woke up in the hospital, so this was bearable, at least.
“You can call me Orion, an ambassador from Trestkania. Nice to meet you, Aria,” he said, extending his enormous hand, which was nearly the size of my head.
...Hmm? This giant is... an ambassador from Trestkania? This guy?
I mean, his personality was definitely suited for the job; he truly embodied the title of 'Friendly Giant.'
However, his appearance was certainly awe-inspiring, that’s for sure.
It’s surprising they sent an ambassador when Demiurge and Trestkania were at odds with each other. Did something happen to make this possible without Noah's interference?
“Was it Camila’s... Camellia's constant bickering that brought you here?” I asked, shaking his hand and assuming she had spouted nonsense about me.
Seeing that Orion already knew I was familiar with her, I stopped trying to hide it and got to the point.
“Haha, indeed.” He replied, nodding in agreement.
Our shared nodding created a sense of camaraderie, as if we had both experienced the same thing.
…
…
…
Time passed as we attempted to ease the tension between us. The constant tremors indicated that I was being transported by something to an unknown place.
“…To answer your question, the Grand Council has decided to detain you.” He sighed and placed his hands on my shoulders.
The weight of his hands felt crushing.
His expression quickly shifted to a more serious tone. Seeing such a mixed expression on someone like him made me uncomfortable.
“Today… you will be judged to determine whether or not they will execute you.” He asserted firmly.
…
…
…
“Hmm… wait, what?” I placed my hand on my face as I processed what he had just said.
Question: Why did Scarlett make baseless assumptions about me being a Morzen Cultist?
In a world where lives were at stake due to dinky rocks (Exitium Stones), I absorbed one out of sheer luck—or perhaps bad luck.
So if I try to piece things together on why that's the case…
—Fwip… Rattle…
I removed the bandages from my left arm, unveiling the massive tattoo that had been imprinted on me.
From a strange, eldritch pattern emerged a new grand design that resembled a tree, marked with eleven symbols that held significance.
“—I’m guessing it’s because of this?”
“…Yes.” He hesitated to reveal the truth.
"Sure, but is a flimsy tattoo enough to convince everyone that I'm a Morzen Cultist?"
"That's precisely why they're using it against you, Aria."
"Haha, now that's funny."
I laughed without emotion, struggling to believe it.
From thinking this tattoo was just a minor issue, to telling myself that Kleinford was a city free of corrupt officials.
I really jinxed myself, huh? Great.
They weren’t wrong; this tattoo truly originated from Morze.
The Exitium stones were scattered across continents specifically to prevent Morze from finding them.
Noah’s clan was part of the group that sealed one of the eleven Exitium stones—specifically, the one in my damn arm.
Naturally, they would assume I was someone suspicious.
Great—just fucking great.
“But if everything goes well, you’ll be fine.” He loosened his grip as he noticed my mixed expression.
His gaze toward me was tinged with pity, an emotion I despised, but held a flickering flame of determination.
“Lady Camellia and I will be there to serve as your defence.” He nodded his head to reassure me that it's going to be okay.
"I see..." I replied in a daze, a little tired from everything.
“Then, do you believe that I’m a Morzen Cultist too, Orion?”
…
…
...
He fell silent after hearing my bold declaration.
“...You see, I’ve been on the battlefield for years, and during that time, I’ve encountered many different kinds of people.”
—Thud…!
Orion stood up the moment the vehicle stopped at our final destination.
“Just by looking into your eyes, I can tell you’ve been through a lot to have such confidence, child.”
—Clink.
Without any ill intent, he removed the chains that bound me and handed me handcuffs to put on my wrists.
“I believe that a child is never to be blamed, but rather the ones who nurture them,” he said to me, genuinely believing in his words.
“So if no one else believes you, then I will, even if it costs me my life.” He smiled gently.
It’s hard for me to trust this man with such beliefs, but at the same time, that confidence must be the reason he’s still alive.
“…That’s such a cliche thing to say.” I was amazed by how he said such words without batting an eye.
“…Yet I don’t mind being trusted without having to validate myself.” I stood up and allowed myself to be handcuffed.
—Ving…!
“Ack!” I grunted in pain as the chains, infused with sealing magic, clamped down on me.
These cuffs were more secure than regular ones because the sealing magic drained me of my powers.
“…I’m glad you understand.” He patted my back a bit more gently this time.
I had thought that Noah and Camila were decent people, but Orion was different.
He truly had no ill intentions.
I… I don’t know, it felt strange being treated this way.
Was this the feeling I would have if Gael treated me better? Like a father would?
…Let’s stop thinking about that. The only thing I needed to know was that characters from beyond the novel were starting to appear.
Scarlett's disciples, and the eccentric nurse who treated me and warned me about her.
The green-haired nurse's entire identity was still a mystery; I didn’t even know her name.
‘Ah, right, I’m going to be executed.’ I blinked a couple of times and was reminded of my current situation.
It’s fine, not like I’m worried or anything.
What makes them think I’m dying here?
—Creak…!
A giant door swung open, flooding my vision with sunlight until we reached a judgment hall where everyone was gathered.
Countless blurred figures appeared one after another on a tall podium, ready to decide whether I would be executed.
The judgment hall was set outdoors, with bystanders watching from the sidelines. Giant podiums were arranged in a circle, housing the greatest leaders of the Demiurge.
They govern the Demiurge as a whole—the Grand Council. The figure at the very center was the judge.
‘…Who? Oh, right, most of the Grand Council members died during the first or second Cardinal Sky.’
The world had taken a different turn; it was no surprise that they had replaced them with new members to fill the vacant slots.
I squinted in an attempt to get a closer look at the Grand Council members, but they were shrouded in a mist that prevented me from seeing their faces.
Once I was at the designated spot, I was chained to a chair, making it clear that attempting to escape would result in swift death.
Numerous guards, including Scarlett Penelope and other magicians, were on standby, intent on preventing me from doing anything foolish.
For someone brought here based on a baseless assumption, this seems excessive for one person, doesn't it?
Next to me were two individuals whom I had already met, and they served as my defence:
Orion Veracus, an ambassador from Trestkania.
And Camellia Historia, the third heir of the Historia family.
“Mmm.” Camellia nodded her head. Although this was our first time speaking to each other, she knew that I was already aware of who she was.
“That girl… wasn't she the one who hopped around with a skewer on her mouth?”
“That little girl is really a Morzen Cultist…?”
“So young… for her to be one of them…”
“Don’t believe in her lies, that is a monster in disguise!”
People continued to murmur among themselves, labelling me as an unfortunate brat and even wishing for my demise.
The nation Morze was so detested that every human being in the world saw them and their citizens as heretics.
‘…How sickening,’ I thought.
Of course, I agree with their standpoint.
Morze has done horrible things, but we can’t forget and look away from their citizens.
In truth, they are the ones who suffer the most merely by existing.
If they escape, they face prosecution because of their race.
If they stay in their homeland, they will likely die a miserable death.
The world labelled and branded them as demons, using religion as a front to eliminate them simply because they had artificial horns.
That’s right; there are no such things as monsters in this world.
Monsters were merely the byproducts of the cruelty that Morze can inflict—a nation that should have been wiped off the face of the earth.
This is the truth that only I know, a stigmata capable of shaking the world to its core.
“Silence!” an old man on the podium shouted, stopping the ceaseless chatter.
“Camellia of the Historia lineage and Orion, the ambassador from Trestkania, do you wish to defend the convicted?”
“Yes, Your Honour.” Camellia and Orion replied, bowing their heads.
I don't know how Orion came to be one of my defendants, but it might be due to the influence of the Historia family, one of the three royal families.
“And the opposing side?” The judge asked, looking to the right to see if they were present.
“That is indeed correct." They responded, bowing their heads as well.
At a glance, the prosecutors appeared to be up to no good, given their demeanour and appearance.
His annoying, long mustache and a detestable face, as if he believed he had already won.
Wow, I've never wanted to punch anyone so much before.
If I have to guess why they took this case, it was likely because they wanted more status to fuel their ego.
“I can’t believe I actually get to face one of them, let alone in court…” I shook my head, reminding myself that if I wrote a little better, crises like this could be avoided.
“All participants are present. Now, let the trial commence!”
—Bang bang bang!
The judge’s words echoed through the hall—this can go in two ways.
To die as the heretic they think I am, or to be deemed not guilty against all odds.
…What do I think? Haha—to hell with that.
