THE ZOMBIE SYSTEM-Chapter 54 - 53: The Twelve

"State your name for the record."

The courthouse stretched before Leon, a stone cathedral built for judgment itself. Massive granite walls rose thirty feet overhead. Ancient laws were carved into every surface in scripts that predated modern civilisation. Names of legendary S-rank hunters decorated the walls in gold lettering—heroes whose power had shaped continents.

Natural light filtered through stained glass windows. Each panel depicted scenes from hunter history. The First Dimensional War. The Great Purge. The Continental Accords. Light cast colored shadows across carved inscriptions that spoke of absolute authority.

Leon walked forward. Manna-dampening cuffs circled his wrists like metal shackles. Each step echoed against stone that had witnessed three centuries of trials. His movement felt restricted but his spine stayed straight. frёewebηovel.cѳm

His eyes swept the courtroom with tactical precision. Gallery seats packed with spectators stretched behind him. Citizens pressed against enchanted barriers. News crystals recorded everything. Some faces showed curiosity. Others displayed hunger for blood.

Twelve chairs dominated the front of the courtroom. The jury that would decide his fate.

Leon’s gaze settled on each face. Analyzed expressions. Cataloged potential allies and certain enemies.

Director Maedlin Voskar sat in the first chair. A-rank hunter. Association board member. Scarred hands gripped the armrests. Cold eyes studied Leon like a threat to be eliminated. No mercy would come from this direction.

Archivist Renneth Solde occupied the second seat. B-rank hunter who looked uncomfortable in courtroom settings, Thick glasses reflected light as he shuffled throughout legal documents. Books were his preference over bloodshed. Potentially neutral.

Vice-Chairman Pyra Eltyos filled the third position. Stern face carved from granite. Association leadership but old-school military background. His eyes measured Leon’s posture. Combat experience recognized combat achievement. Maybe favorable.

Lord Kevran DeNire represented noble interests in seat four. Public supporter of House Virell. Political influence stretched across three continents. His expression showed disgust barely concealed behind aristocratic manners. Definite opposition.

Lady Thelyra Voneir smiled from the fifth chair. Another influential house representative. Private figure whose motives remained hidden behind political masks. Her smirk suggested amusement at the proceedings. Unpredictable.

Bran Dekker lounged in seat six. Iron-fang Guild director. Cunning reputation mixed with corruption rumors. His calculating gaze promised nothing good. Personal profit mattered more than justice.

Vaela Murne occupied the seventh position. Sanctuary Guild head. Pure disdain radiated from every line of her body. Leon’s necromancy violated her fundamental beliefs about life and death. Absolute enemy.

Callen Etros gripped his chair’s armrests in seat eight. Distant cousin of the Virell family. ARES Guild representative. Fury burned behind his eyes like barely contained fire. Vengeance motivated every breath. Personal hatred guaranteed opposition.

Thorne Quen appeared bored in the ninth chair. Black-fang Guild member. Attentive despite his casual posture. Cold pragmatism replaced emotional investment. Could work for or against depending on perceived advantage.

Saria Dullin tapped her staff against the tenth chair. Tempest Veil Guild. Idle energy crackling around her fingers. A smirk flickered at her lips like she knew secrets others didn’t. Hidden amusement suggested complexity.

Kohr Raiven sat straight as a blade in seat eleven. Crimson Dawn Guild fighter. His eyes tracked Leon’s movements like a rival swordsman evaluating technique. Professional respect mixed with competitive assessment. Warrior recognizing warrior.

Elim Voth filled the final chair. Celestial Path Guild representative. Ancient eyes glowed with faint inner light. His expression showed curiosity rather than judgment. Leon felt examined like a revelation unfolding before divine sight. Most mysterious vote.

The crowd shifted behind Leon. Whispers carried across stone like wind through leaves. Some called for blood. Others demanded justice. Most watched in fascination as history unfolded.

Chairman Ethella rose from his position behind the jury panel. Midnight robes flowed around his tall frame. Authority radiated from every gesture. His voice carried across the courtroom without amplification.

"This tribunal is now in session. The defendant will identify himself."

Leon’s voice cut through silence. "Leon Graves."

"The charges are as follows." Ethella’s words fell like hammer blows. "First charge: murder of an active S-rank hunter in violation of Continental Law Section Seven."

Murmurs rippled through the gallery. Recording crystals focused on Leon’s face. He showed no reaction.

"Second charge: unlawful raising and repurposing of ranked hunters without proper Association authorization as outlined in Necromancy Regulation Code Twelve."

The crowd’s tension increased. Necromancy remained taboo across most societies. Leon’s abilities challenged fundamental beliefs about death and dignity.

"Third charge: deliberate disruption of the Hunter Association’s balance of power through unauthorized action resulting in guild destabilization."

Silence fell over the courtroom. These charges carried death sentences. Everyone understood the stakes.

"Fourth charge: violation of rank protocol through advancement exceeding established parameters without official recognition."

Leon’s rapid progression from F-rank to B-rank killer broke every rule in Association handbooks. His very existence challenged their authority.

The weight of accusations settled over the courtroom like a burial shroud. Spectators realized they witnessed a trial that could reshape hunter society. Traditional power structures faced challenges from impossible advancement.

Director Voskar leaned forward. His scarred hands showed decades of combat experience. "How does the defendant plead?"

Leon met his gaze without flinching. "Not guilty."

Gasps echoed through the gallery. Some spectators called out protests. Others shouted support. Guards moved to maintain order.

"Silence," Ethella commanded. Instant quiet followed his voice.

Archivist Solde adjusted his glasses. "The defendant claims innocence despite documented evidence of S-rank termination?"

"I claim self-defense," Leon replied. "Tobias Virell attacked my family. I responded appropriately."

Lord DeNire’s face flushed red. "Appropriately? You murdered—"

"Objection." Vice-Chairman Eltyos cut him off. "The defendant acted within hunter combat codes. Virell initiated aggression against civilian targets."

The jury erupted in arguments. Political factions clashed over legal interpretations. Personal biases colored every statement.

Lady Voneir’s smirk widened. She watched the chaos with obvious entertainment. Her vote remained hidden behind aristocratic games.

Bran Dekker calculated odds while others argued. Iron-fang benefits mattered more than justice or law. His support would cost something.

Vaela Murne’s disgust deepened. "Necromancy violates natural order. The defendant’s very existence threatens—"

"Threatens what?" Thorne Quen interrupted. "Threatens your comfortable assumptions about power?"

Saria Dullin’s staff crackled with energy. "The boy showed creativity. Adaptation. Survival instincts that most hunters lack."

Kohr Raiven nodded slowly. "Combat effectiveness speaks louder than rank classifications. He proved himself in battle."

Callen Etros slammed his fist against his chair. "He murdered my family! Justice demands..."

"Justice demands truth," Elim Voth said quietly. His ancient voice carried weight beyond volume. "This young man represents something we don’t understand. Fear makes poor foundation for judgment."

Chairman Ethella raised his hand. Silence returned gradually.

"Evidence presentation begins tomorrow at dawn. Witness testimony follows. Jury deliberation concludes the proceedings." His cold eyes swept the assembly. "Verdict requires simple majority. Execution or exile."

The courthouse erupted as spectators realized the proceedings’ true nature. Leon’s fate hung on seven votes from twelve jurors. Each carried personal agendas. Political pressure. Guild loyalty. Family honor.

Leon stood quietly amid the chaos. His cuffs pulsed with suppression runes. His system remained locked away. But his mind calculated odds and identified potential allies.

Tomorrow would determine everything.

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