Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint-Chapter 438: Reverse Judgment (3)

"The Blood Curse is the power that enforces absolute control over lower vampires. The progenitor can directly control the blood of their followers, stripping them of the ability or will to resist. The followers cannot betray their progenitor. Not even one."

A murmur rippled through the room. Some vampires cast sidelong glances at Tyr, wondering if he should stop Lir from speaking further. However, Tyr did not intervene. Under the Founder’s unspoken permission, Lir continued her speech.

"My father wished for my mother to rebel and break free from the Blood Curse so she could stand on her own. That way, as a connoisseur of blood, he could taste her blood again. He made my mother an AIN, forced me to become Yueling, and then gave me his blood to turn me into an AIN as well. He twisted the Curse and manipulated the hierarchy to provoke rebellion. Moreover, he forced us to attempt rebellion ourselves."

The concept of severing the Blood Curse from above was shocking, but it made sense. The one who imposed the Curse could withdraw it, so that was understandable. But when a subordinate attempts to break the Curse on their own, it’s a different matter entirely. For the followers, betraying their progenitor would be like their limbs acting on their own. No one would be pleased with their body acting without control.

The vampires looked at Lir with cold, calculating eyes.

"...In the end, it became the very thing that strangled my father's neck. My father proved his power, after all. I was the one who ended him."

Perhaps sensing the shifting mood, Lir didn't elaborate on the method. I wondered—was that the wise choice? Did she not think that if she mentioned the method, the vampires would be even more eager to kill her before that knowledge spread? Or did she simply not care about her own fate?

Her words had been strange from the start. I had assumed she was pleading for her life, but all she had done was confess to the crime of revealing her father’s sins in the courtroom. Even if the scandal was about an Elder, it was still a scandal. Lir’s goal was to undermine the reputation of someone already dead.

Something was subtly off about her. She showed more interest in the lives of others than her own. Even now, there was no fear of death in her eyes.

"If I am guilty of rebellion, then my father, who made me rebel, is just as guilty!"

A heavy silence descended over the hall. After delivering her impassioned speech, Lir waited, expressionless, for the Founder’s judgment.

It was an unexpected revelation, and the scandal had shaken all the vampires. But the outcome would not change.

"So, you’re saying you killed Ruskinia?"

"Yes."

"This trial is about uncovering the truth behind the murder of an Elder. Whatever your reasons, they don’t matter. Your circumstances will not change the outcome."

Tyr, true to his nature, was unconcerned with minor scandals. Even if his heart still beat, and his senses were intact, the years and experiences he had lived through could not be erased. Tyr knew better than anyone that if he focused on every trivial detail, he would never be able to make a judgment.

The crime was clear. Tyr’s voice was quiet but solemn as he delivered the verdict, one that everyone could hear.

"Nothing has changed. I will now pass judgment on the criminal, Lir Nightingale..."

"Objection!"

The voice came from nearby. Tyr turned swiftly, caught off guard. My hand was extended in front of me, stopping the proceedings.

"Tyr. This is different now. The situation has changed."

"Changed? What do you mean?"

I stepped down from the podium and stood directly in front of the accused, looking up at Tyr as I spoke.

"Honorable judge, according to Lir Nightingale’s testimony, Elder Ruskinia also attempted to break free from the Blood Curse. Is there no room for leniency on that matter?"

Tyr seemed momentarily flustered but composed himself and responded.

"That doesn’t change anything. Only I can judge an Elder. No matter what sins Ruskinia may have committed, once he killed an Elder, there’s no escaping the punishment. Not to mention, even if the crimes of the deceased Ruskinia cannot be found, that’s irrelevant."

"You say only the Founder can judge an Elder? Then what about other Elders? Can’t one Elder judge another?"

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As I spoke, I subtly glanced at Valdamir. He, too, was a vampire, but his expression betrayed no emotion. He was clearly paying close attention to me, though—his focus on my every word was unmistakable.

"Of course not. Would an Elder kill another Elder?"

But what if that wasn’t the case? What if the truth hidden between the two criminals was different?

"What if it wasn’t 'another' Elder?"

"...What?"

For vampires, followers are extensions of their progenitors. Rebellion, in this context, is when a limb goes rogue and strangles its own master.

"You all know. A follower cannot defy their progenitor. And that’s why Lir’s actions are so shocking, and difficult to believe."

But what if the follower was not truly rebelling? If a part of the progenitor—the very blood that controls them—moved to kill its master?

"However, what if it wasn’t rebellion at all?"

We would call it suicide.

"What if the death of Elder Ruskinia was something he himself planned? What would you say to that?"

A strange murmur filled the air. Even vampires, whose hearts were as cold as ice, couldn’t remain silent in the face of my words. The atmosphere was tense, and the inner turmoil of the room was deafening—louder than anything I had expected. The trial, which everyone had assumed would be decided by a lack of evidence and distorted memories, was spiraling into uncharted political waters. The crowd's uncontained roars echoed throughout, with many coming from the factions who had lost an Elder.

"That’s preposterous!"

The AIN who had been subjected to the dismemberment demonstration by Valdamir earlier shouted. Her body bristled with feathers, puffing up in a show of intimidation as she advanced toward me. I smiled, welcoming her challenge.

"Oh, looks like we have an opponent. Are you my opponent?"

"Suicide, for a vampire? Is that even possible?"

"Maybe you don’t know vampires very well, but there are plenty of people in this world who attempt suicide—or something close to it."

"Only weak and foolish humans would do that. Lord Ruskinia would never! A strong and cruel Elder like him, choosing to end his life?"

"Well, you’d be surprised. It’s not just weak humans who do it. People climb sheer cliffs with their bare hands, challenge opponents they know they can’t defeat, or charge into enemy lines with reckless abandon. There are those who seek to test their limits by throwing themselves into danger."

If an Elder is mad enough to embed feathers into their own followers, create double-jointed limbs, or bind them with bat-like membranes, they surely wouldn’t hesitate to twist the Blood Curse either.

"I’ve heard that Lord Ruskinia was quite a daring figure. Do you think someone like him would try something like this?"

"Hmph. That’s just your suspicion. There’s no proof anywhere."

The vampire, ever the strategist, didn’t take the bait. She carefully sidestepped my words, zeroing in on the gap in my argument.

"All you’re saying is that it’s possible. But that’s just a theory. Lord Ruskinia could very well have done anything. That’s an obvious fact. However..."

The AIN pointed directly at Lir.

"Lir Nightingale. If she’s the killer, there’s no need to consider possibilities. She had the motive, she made the attempt, and she took Ruskinia’s True Blood. She even confessed to the crime herself! The evidence of her guilt is crystal clear."

The vampires in the room nodded in agreement. As if to add weight to the argument, murmurs of "Exactly," and "It’s obvious," rippled through the crowd. The AIN, with the support of the onlookers, bowed toward Tyr.

"I apologize, but I believe the intentions of the concubine here are highly suspect. We hope the Founder will make a clear judgment."

"Hmm..."

‘I’m sorry, Hughes, but their argument isn’t wrong. Simply presenting a possibility isn’t enough to overturn the verdict. If you truly wanted to save her, you should have given us a heads-up. Then, you could have spoken with Valdamir and Kabilla, and we could have declared her innocent.’

Wait, you could have declared her innocent just by giving a heads-up? That hadn’t even crossed my mind. I hadn’t realized the Founder could handle things that way.

Don’t worry though. I’m not defending Lir out of a desire to save her—I’m doing it to uncover the truth.

The truth matters. Curiosity cannot be satisfied with lies.

"Motive. Attempt. Evidence. You said the defendant had all three, right?"

The three points brought up by the AIN were indeed valid. In a military court, without the context of the Duchy, a conviction would have been inevitable, even without evidence. But this was the Duchy. The land of vampires.

"I will use my authority to refute those grounds."

"Authority?"

"Yes. With my authority."

In this land, where followers cannot even think of defying their progenitor, where absolute control reigns.

"The follower cannot rebel against their progenitor. The intent to rebel, the attempt to do so, the success in taking the progenitor's True Blood—it would have been impossible for Lir Nightingale to achieve all of that on her own."