“All of the above charges are established. I hereby declare the confiscation of all of Lanse’s property and sentence him to death!”
Upon hearing this, the mercenaries all gasped.
It was just a minor hobby, not a capital offense.
However, a few of them, upon seeing the notebook that had fallen to the ground, began to sweat profusely.
Lafeier slightly eased his pressure.
“On what, what grounds!” one mercenary shouted. “On what grounds are you executing the Lieutenant? You have no right to execute the Lieutenant!”
Then, four or five more mercenaries stepped forward, pointing at Lafeier. “That’s right! Release the Lieutenant immediately, or you won’t leave here alive!”
“You brat, who allowed you to speak so arrogantly here!”
…
Watching their flustered expressions, Lafeier barely suppressed a laugh.
Just as he thought.
‘Imprisoning over a dozen male half-bloods and subjecting them to various acts of violence—thinking about it, how could Lanse have done that alone? There must be accomplices!’
Those accomplices could basically be narrowed down to Lanse’s trusted inner circle—the very people now stepping forward to defend him.
However, the other trembling, hesitant mercenaries couldn’t be ruled out either.
“What, are you trying to rebel?”
Lafeier’s tone carried a hint of anger. As he spoke, he didn’t forget to kick Lanse again.
‘No, I can’t laugh. Not yet!’
“You, don’t slander us! Let the Lieutenant go now, or you’ll regret it!”
A mercenary stepped forward and pointed at Lafeier.
Then, three or four more mercenaries stepped forward, shouting loudly:
“Release him! Release him!”
“Yeah, release him!”
The leaders shouted with increasing fervor, and finally, even the hesitant mercenaries joined the cry.
“Release him! Release him!”
“Release him?” Lafeier sneered, then signaled Liliya with his eyes.
Liliya understood immediately. She stepped forward, and the leaders were so frightened they scrambled back into the crowd.
They were truly afraid of this maid—she was a complete monster!
Her speed and strength rivaled those of a Demon Man. Anyone who had been on a battlefield knew how absurd that was.
She could cross a hundred meters in a single breath.
One punch could shatter stone, one kick could snap a tree. If an ordinary person encountered her, they could only pray she wasn’t fond of torture.
However, Demon Men were also the race most afraid of sunlight and silver, so humans did have means to counter them.
But this girl before them bore no traits of the Blood Race, wasn’t afraid of sunlight, and wasn’t even harmed by silver items soaked in holy water.
Earlier, a mercenary had used a heirloom silver fork—allegedly personally blessed and washed by the current Pope Gregory II in his youth—and stabbed the girl with it. It felt like stabbing a steel plate.
The fork snapped on the spot. That mercenary was now clutching his arm, cowering in a corner.
“So? Still want me to release him?”
Lafeier asked with a smirk.
Silence fell over the crowd.
“Estina,” Lafeier said sternly, “come, escort the prisoner to the execution ground!”
“Yes!” Estina acknowledged, then led three guards onto the platform.
They grabbed Lanse and dragged him down the stairs by force.
With every step down, Lanse was slammed against the edge.
Adrenaline, like a storm, made every inch of his body abnormally sensitive.
His hard cartilage struck the stair edges, producing a strange Oh hoh hoh hoh~ sound with each impact. A trail of blood began from the fourth step from the bottom, forming a thin, mushroom-like pattern all the way to the entrance of the hall.
Seeing this gruesome sight, even the mercenaries were terrified.
That bandit leader, who had crawled out of the Blood Race’s den, killed countless, and was ruthless—he had been broken down to this state!
Good heavens, how had they done it?!
Among the mercenaries involved in Lanse’s dirty dealings, two were so scared they wet themselves.
Not even Lafeier had expected his full-pressure aura to be so overpowering.
‘Still not coming out?’
Lafeier muttered to himself.
Just as Estina and the others were about to step over the threshold and enter the square outside the administrative building, a voice arrived as if on cue:
“Hold it, Estina.”
Sophia’s head was wrapped in white gauze. She wore a gold-and-black gown, exuding an air of elegance and nobility, yet with a hint of a clergy’s secrecy and sanctity.
She bowed slightly at the main entrance. From Lanse’s kneeling perspective, the afternoon sunlight cast her slender shadow upon him.
Those inside the hall couldn’t see her clearly—only a vague outline of her face, made even more sacred by the golden light.
“Your Excellency the Warden, isn’t it rather hasty to carry out the execution like this?”
“Lanse…” She paused briefly. “Lord Lanse has indeed done things improperly, but it is the Empire’s law that should judge him, not your personal vendetta.”
Her calm voice sharpened, her flat tone turning violent and tyrannical. “Your Excellency, do you think you can replace the Empire’s law? Do you think you can trample on His Majesty the Emperor’s decrees and the authority of the Imperial Ministry of Justice under your feet?”
“Your Excellency, with all due respect—!”
In an instant, her towering fury condensed into icy blue crystals. “Even a member of the House of Lancaster does not have the right to ignore His Majesty the Emperor’s will, does he?”
Lafeier watched Sophia with amusement, tapping a bump on the floor with his foot, and said sternly, “Is that a threat?”
‘Accusing me of something? Ridiculous!’
That foolish woman Sophia didn’t even see whose territory this was.
Lafeier had thought she would pull some grand stunt, but this was all she had?
Trying to threaten him with the law and the Emperor?
Lafeier could only sigh—this dumb woman hadn’t even done her background check properly.
Of course, it might also be that the Duke’s family’s confidentiality was too good.
Sophia didn’t reply. She just stared at Lafeier with a dark, sinister gaze. In the brightly lit hall, her eyes writhed like dawn itself, light and shadow weaving into a mist that slithered over Lafeier along with her creepy smile.
Then her gaze shifted to another person—Liliya.
Chaos evolved into threads in the void, winding from all directions toward Liliya’s soul.
Ordinary people couldn’t see those threads; they only felt an eerie, chilling wind abruptly spread from the center of the hall outward.
Magic—a long-decayed art.
Apart from holy arts, magic had long vanished from this world.
But those black pupils and threads were a form of magic.
Ancient, profound, mysterious, concealing a dread from the celestial bodies and the void.
No one knew it; no one could perceive it.
It acted on existence itself, yet transcended the concept of existence.
Down to the fundamentals. Down to the roots.
“You… you are mine!” Sophia roared. Black gas billowed from her eye sockets like boiling water, expanding violently until dirty blood flowed from the corners of her eyes.