“......”

While Ever and Steber looked at him with puzzled yet concerned expressions about his health, Kanna’s eyes quickly flickered with realization.

“Yuder, by any chance, that scarf is...”

“—The Seven Grand Justices who protect the laws of the Empire, along with the Commander of the Cavalry, Master of the Dawn, will now enter. Everyone, please rise and show your respect.”

Before the question could be properly voiced, a loud proclamation rang throughout the chamber. With everyone rising to face the entrance, their conversation was abruptly cut off.

“It’s not because I caught a cold. I’m perfectly healthy, so don’t worry,” Yuder whispered quickly, just loud enough for the vice commanders to hear, then turned his head.

The massive door, old yet exuding not a hint of decay, swung open grandly as the Grand Justices filed in one after another.

When Kishiar’s face appeared behind them, indistinct gasps and held breaths could be heard from all directions.

It was the same scene as during the trial of House Apeto, but many things had changed.

Back then, though Kishiar had entered as Commander of the Cavalry, people still referred to him merely as “Duke Peleta.” But now, he was addressed by the title he had earned and forged for himself.

Gone were those who treated his appearance like a decorative object and casually muttered whatever they pleased.

They were still stunned by his beauty, yes—but this time, it was with a full awareness of the power he possessed.

Even the noble faction that once mocked the Emperor no longer dared to speak carelessly. The solemnity of the courtroom remained unbroken, and Yuder felt far more at ease than he had back then.

From a worthless royal anyone could mock, to a Swordmaster who could command the heavens and earth with a single blade—

In a single year, he had turned everything around and now stood confidently in his rightful place.

When Kishiar’s blue coat and the cloth tied around Yuder’s neck came into view together, there was a brief ripple through the crowd, but it subsided quickly.

“......”

Yuder could feel the three vice commanders glancing between his neck and Kishiar’s coat.

The first to speak was Steber.

“Hmm... I thought I was finally seeing the rare sight of Yuder feeling cold, but I see now—it must be a scarf bestowed by the Commander?”

“This morning, when I opened the window, the wind was stronger than expected,” Kishiar replied with a painted-on smile.

“I was concerned for my aide, who rarely wears anything thick, even on cold days. Of what I had, this seemed most appropriate, so I included it with my coat.”

“Ahh... I see.”

Steber nodded with his usual composed expression. But when he briefly turned to glance at Yuder’s face, Yuder could feel the certainty in that look.

‘He’s more or less figured it out.’

But that was all. Steber didn’t press any further and simply stood calmly, wearing his usual gentle expression.

“I agree with the Commander,” Ever said. “Yuder may be resistant to heat and cold thanks to his abilities, but it’s still best to dress appropriately for the weather.”

Ever, as always, responded in a completely normal tone, showing no sign of having noticed anything unusual in the conversation.

A stark contrast to Kanna, who stood beside them clenching her fists, her lips parting as if to scream and closing again as if restraining herself.

Kishiar, his gaze soft with fondness for his three vice commanders, finally turned to Yuder and grinned.

“Is the scarf uncomfortable? We’re indoors now—if it feels stuffy, you can take it off.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Very well, then.”

Kishiar sat down gracefully.

During the previous trial, the proceedings had started as soon as he took his seat, but this time, someone else was still expected.

Yuder shifted his gaze toward the defendant’s area.

Osem Nully, the former attendant who had hired mercenaries in place of Crown Prince Kachian, had already been apprehended.

He sat slumped, bound tightly with magical restraints and ropes, his face gaunt.

Nearby was another luxurious chair, similar to the one Kishiar had taken. The table in front of it was draped with a red cloth bearing the mark of Gwanghui Palace—clearly designating it as the Crown Prince’s seat.

“Has the Crown Prince not yet arrived?” one of the Grand Justices asked a knight stationed by the door.

The knight cracked the door open, checked outside with a troubled expression, and nodded.

“...There was some commotion in the waiting room. He’ll be entering shortly.”

As if on cue, the door opened again not long after.

Kachian entered, his face twisted with fury. Dressed in the formal robes of the Crown Prince, his head was held high in defiance.

He shook off the hands of the knights supporting his arms and shouted sharply,

“Unhand me, you insolent brutes!”

Despite his disheveled robes, he looked beautiful—eerily so.

But there was no stir, no murmur like the one that had accompanied Kishiar’s appearance.

Kachian’s eyes scanned the packed courtroom as he panted.

A moment of undeniable realization—Diarka had truly abandoned him.

Everyone present was here to gawk at him.

His gaze darkened with rage, hatred, and despair.

Yuder saw the Crown Prince’s trembling eyes slowly shift toward them.

The bloodshot, glaring eyes locked onto Yuder before shifting to Kishiar.

If he’d had a weapon—if he’d even had the chance—he would’ve charged without hesitation.

“Your Highness, Crown Prince. Please take your assigned seat,” one of the Grand Justices requested carefully.

Kachian let out a scoff, glaring at the speaker.

“...Very well. I must commit the faces of those who dragged the Empire’s future here like a beast, parading him in disgrace.”

He walked slowly to his seat.

When his eyes met Osem Nully’s halfway through, Kachian clenched his jaw.

Undoubtedly, Osem was one of the people he most wanted dead.

Knowing that, Osem stared right back without flinching.

Hatred and blame passed between them as Kachian finally sat in his designated chair.

The Grand Justices, each dabbing the sweat from their foreheads, began their introductions.

They solemnly declared their vow before the gods to judge fairly, and thus began a trial that would go down in history.

“The accused, Osem Nully, admitted in the first hearing that he hired mercenaries under someone’s order. State again who gave that order.”

During the first trial, Osem had confessed that he acted under the Crown Prince’s command and had detailed the process.

Now, as the inquisitor beneath the Grand Justices reconfirmed that point, Osem answered honestly with a resigned expression.

“I sought out mercenaries under orders from His Highness the Crown Prince.”

“Did you know beforehand what the mercenaries would be tasked to do?”

“No. I merely delivered the letter and the money. I swear to the gods I did [N O V E L I G H T] not know what was written in that letter!”

Next, one of the captured mercenaries was brought forth, bound just like Osem.

He had been chosen to testify on behalf of the group because he was the most articulate.

Even under the weight of so many eyes, he didn’t shrink back much.

“State again who gave you the letter and money.”

“This man here.”

“Why did you keep the letter instead of destroying it immediately?”

“I wasn’t paid properly, so I kept it as evidence. There was no other reason or intent.”

“Why didn’t you hesitate to accept a request to harm innocent villagers?”

“People like us do anything for money. As long as we get paid properly, what does it matter?”

“Did you know in advance that those who stopped and exposed you were Cavalry members?”

“No. I didn’t know they were from the Cavalry. But I heard they were extremely dangerous, and the letter said they had to be taken out first.”

It was exactly what they had heard in the Chamber of Truth.

While Yuder, already aware of all this, remained calm, many others gasped and covered their mouths in shock.

Kachian watched the proceedings in silence, grinding his teeth.

Finally, the Grand Justices turned their eyes toward him.

“Your Highness, Crown Prince. Do you acknowledge these testimonies?”