All eyes and ears turned to Kachian. Sitting upright, Kachian la Orr let out a soft, mirthless laugh.

“What changes if I say I don’t acknowledge it?”

“...Please answer clearly. Do you acknowledge it? Or not?”

“I asked what would change.”

“This is a sacred court. With all due respect, Your Highness the Crown Prince, as the key person involved in this case and a witness, you are not permitted to respond with counterquestions. Please answer the question.”

“Absurd. Every last one of you here! The Duke of Peleta! His Imperial Majesty! You're all trying to kill me. What can I possibly say that would change anything? Even if I cried out in injustice, none of you would believe me! Have you even considered what Duke Diarka would say to you if he knew?”

His voice, strained as if it were torn from the depths of his chest, echoed thunderously through the courtroom.

Everyone who made eye contact with him immediately looked away, frightened—including the very inquisitor who had asked the question.

The absence of any representatives or defenders from House Diarka today meant only one thing: they had truly abandoned the Crown Prince. But who could say how the situation might change tomorrow?

If the ailing Duke Diarka were to recover and raise Kachian’s hand, every person who had dared act against him today could be executed.

Yuder looked at the faces of those struggling to hide their anxiety and thought:

‘Their thoughts are practically written on their faces.’

Even while bedridden and wounded, the old Duke Diarka was still more terrifying to them than the very-much-alive Kironne.

His influence blanketed the entire Orr Empire, regardless of whether he was present or not.

Then, a calm voice pierced the frozen air.

“The witness has refused to answer three times.”

Only upon hearing that did everyone finally snap back to attention.

Kishiar la Orr, entirely unshaken, turned to the inquisitor with a composed face.

“As far as I know, in such cases, the law interprets refusal to answer as an intentional delay tactic, and the confessions of the accused are recorded as credible. Am I wrong?”

“...N-No, that is correct.”

The inquisitor swallowed hard and nodded.

“Then you’d best make that declaration.”

With a graceful wave of his hand, Kishiar gestured for him to speak so that all could hear, smiling ever so politely.

Kachian paled at the sight of that face.

The inquisitor looked up at the Grand Justices, exchanged a silent glance, then spoke.

“...As the witness has refused to provide a proper answer despite being asked three times, the confessions of the accused will be officially recorded as credible.”

“W-What?! You mean to record something I never said? That’s—”

“It is the law and long-standing tradition.”

Kachian clenched his fists and protested fiercely.

But the result, once entered into the record, could not be changed.

‘So they’re applying the adverse inference principle. I know that one all too well.’

Watching Kachian protest, Yuder recalled the trial of Yudrain Aile in his past life.

When the so-called witnesses blatantly lied, Yudrain had refused to respond to anything. As a result, the record officially stated that all their testimony was correct.

At the time, he thought the Empire and the Emperor still needed the Cavalry and that he’d be released soon—but he wasn’t.

That seemingly minor record held far greater power than expected, and Yudrain Aile was sent straight to the torture chambers in accordance with the trial’s outcome.

‘...’

It wasn’t exactly the same, but somehow, this situation felt awfully familiar.

Watching Kachian flail without a single person on his side, Yuder felt an unexpected wave of emotion pass through him—however fleeting.

Ignoring Kachian’s screams, the inquisitor furrowed his brow and raised a hand.

“Bring in the next witness.”

This time, Marin appeared.

After leaving the Chamber of Truth yesterday, she hadn’t returned to the Cavalry. Today, she was dressed smartly in full Cavalry uniform.

‘Considering the threat to her life, the Emperor must’ve arranged special protection.’

At the sight of her, the three vice commanders and scattered Cavalry members positioned throughout the courtroom straightened their postures.

Marin confidently took the witness stand, raised her hand, and testified nearly identically to yesterday.

What was different now, though, was the presence of Osem Nully and the mercenary who had infiltrated the village.

The inquisitor confirmed that Marin had no prior connection to them and listened to her recount the incident at Gwanaman village.

Then came the critical question.

“How did you realize the attackers weren’t bandits, but mercenaries?”

“We found identity tags after capturing them.”

“And why do you believe they specifically targeted you?”

“Apparently, the request letter said so. I assumed it was the work of someone who knew me.”

“Is that why you reported the client?”

“I didn’t report them because they tried to kill me. I did it to protect the innocent villagers.”

“The client has been identified as Osem Nully. And Osem Nully has confessed that he acted under orders from His Highness the Crown Prince. Do you have any connection to His Highness?”

“He may deny it, but we are certainly connected.”

With the same firm, unwavering tone she had used before the Emperor and Empress, Marin answered boldly.

“I know him. We grew up in the same village since childhood. He lived next door. Every villager remembers this.”

“...My god.”

Someone in the audience murmured in disbelief.

Kachian sat frozen, his face blank.

Did it feel like the Chamber of Truth all over again?

Did it feel like a new nightmare on top of the old one?

There was no way to know.

But after saying everything she needed to say, Marin bowed politely and stepped back.

The Seven Grand Justices exchanged silent words using magical tools.

Their conclusion came quickly, without the need for recess.

“...Osem Nully, the accused, has provided a detailed confession and admitted his guilt. Taking this into account, we sentence him not to death, but to a fine of 10,000 gold coins. If he cannot pay, he will receive equivalent punishment—ten years of imprisonment followed by ten years of forced labor on Merche Island. The sentence will be carried out once all related trials are concluded...”

Both Osem Nully and the mercenary were spared the death penalty.

Their punishment was severe, but since no one had actually died as a result of the incident, the sentence was mitigated.

The fact that Osem Nully avoided execution meant the Grand Justices recognized he wasn’t the true mastermind.

As murmurs spread, the chief Grand Justice in the center spoke solemnly.

“The accuser whose report initiated this trial, Marin, submitted a formal accusation letter before entering the courtroom, charging His Highness the Crown Prince with criminal acts.

His Highness has also expressed intent to submit a letter of protest this morning, declaring his innocence.

Therefore, the Seven Grand Justices have unanimously agreed to accept both documents and combine them into a single case.”

“......”

The courtroom fell into a silence as deep as the ocean floor.

No one dared to speak.

All awaited the next words of the Grand Justice with breathless attention.

“An investigation for this case has already begun as of yesterday, by imperial decree. It will proceed through the proper legal procedures. We hereby declare the trial concluded before the gods.”

The Grand Justices chanted their closing prayers and swiftly exited.

Kachian la Orr, his eyes bloodshot, continued to glare at Marin, Kishiar, and Yuder.

When a knight approached to help him up, he shoved the hand away and muttered in a low voice,

“How disgraceful... drunk on your little victory. Don’t think this will go your way forever.”