A bead of cold sweat uncontrollably slid down Pablo's temple. Though his eyes were still half-closed as usual, inside he was panicking terribly. So this was what they called "meeting a pig-headed teammate."
"Count Heim," he said carefully, "as I mentioned before, all of this comes from Duke Mandrake's one-sided story. We only came here to follow the rules. Whether or not rumors of a witch appearing in Heim City are true, it is still our duty to investigate."
"Oh? Then tell me, Knight Pablo—what's the punishment for falsely accusing someone of harboring a witch?"
"That… depends on the circumstances," Pablo replied, secretly wiping away the sweat on his brow. The boy before him seemed far too calm and mature for his age, and it was unnerving.
Luckily, he had pushed all responsibility onto Brenda from the start. Otherwise, he'd be the one unable to get out of this mess now.
"Then allow me to remind you," said Hel, taking out a small booklet Pablo himself had given her. She had already read through it last night.
"According to Chapter 15 of the Law Codex—anyone who spreads false witch accusations will be punished according to the severity of the act: fines up to 1,000 gold coins or imprisonment up to ten years. Now, if a noble intentionally frames another noble to eliminate a rival—would that not count as a severe case?"
"Of course," Pablo nodded quickly.
He wasn't particularly close to Brenda anyway. His goal today was merely to pressure Hel a little—not to pick a life-or-death fight. There was no reason to take Brenda's side.
From the beginning, he'd made it clear that even if one of Hel's subordinates really was found to be a witch, she wouldn't be severely punished. Whatever the church's bishops planned to do with that information to pressure Vivian was none of his concern.
"In that case, I have no objections. Knight Pablo, you may proceed."
Pablo nodded and motioned for the women below the platform to step up one by one and touch the broken cross.
Hel had already inspected the relic's properties:
[Name]: Divine Heir's Monument
[Grade]: Red – Sacred Artifact
[Effect]: Divine Radiance (Red)
[Description]: A tombstone from ancient times belonging to a divine heir. When a creature bearing traces of divine power touches the stone, it emits a brilliant light.
Hel blinked. A glowing tombstone… seriously? Did that ancient "divine heir" have to be so flashy?
Time passed slowly. By evening, the entire crowd had been tested. The only ones remaining were those standing beside Hel.
Just then, a loud cry echoed from afar. A griffin swooped down toward Heim Square.
The massive creature's descent stirred up violent gusts, sending people tumbling and the crowd into chaos.
The rider atop the griffin seemed intent on making an entrance—ordering her mount to land directly amid the people. If it actually did, the civilians of Heim City would surely suffer casualties.
But before it could reach the ground, a thunderous explosion rang out from the castle direction. A magic-imbued arrow streaked through the air, leaving behind rings of sonic booms—piercing straight toward the griffin's heart.
Bang!
The arrow hit true. Half the beast's body exploded into a crimson mist.The knight atop it lost balance and plummeted to the ground, immediately seized by city guards who rushed in.
The rider was none other than Duke Brenda of Mandrake—but now she looked utterly miserable.
"Another elf?" Pablo muttered, eyeing the petite figure who caught the falling griffin's corpse with one hand, preventing it from crushing anyone below.
His expression grew grim. Though elves and humans were allies, the Church of Judgement had always believed: Those not of our kind cannot be trusted. Even their allies were treated with suspicion.
"So," he said meaningfully to Hel, "the Heim family still maintains ties with the elves, even here in the eastern continent."
Without waiting for a reply, Pablo turned toward the restrained Brenda. "Duke Mandrake, you seem to be a little late."
"My apologies, Knight Pablo," Brenda said curtly. "I was delayed on the way. But before we continue, please allow me to settle some personal matters."
"By all means."
Brenda nodded, then turned her venomous gaze toward Hel. Her face twisted with hostility as she spat, "Hel Heim, in the name of Duke Mandrake, I formally accuse you of attempting to assassinate your liege!"
"Oh?" Hel's voice was calm. "I saw only a magical beast attempting to invade my city. I never received any notice that Duke Mandrake was coming."
"You—!"
Brenda trembled with fury but dared not lash out. Her eyes darted toward the two Bloodlust Elves beside Hel, and after a moment of silent calculation, she swallowed her anger. She wasn't stupid—Hel clearly had the advantage right now. If Pablo weren't here, Brenda wouldn't even dare confront her.
"Well then," Hel said evenly, "shall we continue the tests, Knight Pablo? I'm sure our esteemed Duke Mandrake is very eager to know whether her false accusations will succeed."
"False accusations?" Brenda scoffed. "You, a backwater count, think you know what a witch is? Do you even understand how witches are born? Tell me, why would I— a grand duke—bother fabricating something like this? Do you think a noble of my rank would risk her honor just to frame someone like you?"
"Not impossible," came a cold voice from the crowd.
A cloaked figure stepped onto the platform, her tone sharp as she glared at Brenda.
"As far as I know," the woman continued, "there was once a king who used a witch's blood to falsely accuse his own queen—just so his daughter could become the new one. So why couldn't Duke Mandrake do the same—falsely accuse a potential rival to secure her own position?"
With that, she slowly removed her hood, revealing a gentle and familiar face.
It was Sister Pamela—the same nun who had once visited Heim City.