Chapter 143: The Verdict and the Assassination

“After repeated deliberation, and based on the undeniable evidence of the defendant’s proven crimes of witchcraft and apostasy, which have had a significant impact, the defendant is hereby sentenced to death by fire, to be executed immediately.” The Chief Inquisitor proclaimed the verdict. “May the holy flame of the sun cleanse all sins.”

Jeanne Decker stared intently at the Inquisitor, not uttering a single word.

There were no cries, no shouts. Protest was utterly meaningless. This ecclesiastical court had persecuted countless individuals under the guise of heresy, and she was merely one more victim.

The third trial had been shockingly brief. After a mere ninety minutes of deliberation, a verdict was delivered.

After all, the outcome had been predetermined, and no unexpected variables had arisen.

The execution was slated for the very day of the trial, a rather uncommon occurrence.

The powers behind Jeanne Decker’s condemnation had amplified the matter, making it common knowledge throughout the Imperial City. The Church, unable to entirely save face, could only strive to minimize the repercussions.

A swift execution would limit those who might learn of it in time, allowing the Church to quickly move past the incident.

Jeanne Decker was escorted from the judgment seat, prepared for transport to the execution grounds.

****

In the gallery, Duke Bedford sat, leaning on his cane. Beside him, Count Gina glanced around.

“That old dog still hasn’t appeared,” Count Gina whispered. “He must not bear to hear the verdict. What a pity, what a pity. I wanted to see his face properly.”

“After all, this adopted daughter was ultimately implicated because of him,” Duke Bedford said with a smile. “Let’s return and celebrate. Our objectives have been achieved; there’s no need to witness the execution.”

Two quarters of an hour later, the prison carriage transporting the condemned departed from the tribunal.

Once, prisoners like Jeanne Decker, condemned for heresy, were typically paraded through the streets in caged wagons, much like captured Red Queen witches. This time, however, Jeanne Decker rode in a fully enclosed prison carriage.

This arrangement by the Church was not out of consideration for her, but rather to minimize public impact.

****

On the grand avenue leading to the ecclesiastical court, a carriage was parked nearby.

Duke Alençon sat inside the coach, his face grave, watching the prison carriage as it was driven away from the court.

Due to the impeachments from several prominent figures, his military authority had been significantly curtailed. The troops dispatched to the northern border in recent years had also been recalled.

His carefully cultivated connections within the Church had been severed entirely because of this incident.

His foolish son, having reached new heights of idiocy by betraying the family, had been disinherited and cast out. The Alençon family now needed to find a new heir.

Yet, these were not what pained him most.

What truly grieved him was the internal strife plaguing the nation, and his own failure, which had cost a promising young life and exacerbated the hidden dangers along the northern frontier.

In recent years, the Dragonspine Kingdom, bolstered by the Empire to suppress other ethnic groups, had seen a succession of s*ave uprisings. The barbarian tribes, historically opposed to the Empire, were once again asserting themselves. Meanwhile, the central aristocrats merely luxuriated in their comfort, their only interest in smuggling contraband and slaves across the northern border.

Did this nation truly have a future?

The shock of his adopted daughter’s wrongful death stirred in him, for the first time, such a ‘treasonous’ question.

****

Meanwhile, at Requiem Square.

Another carriage quietly approached the main road near the square, only to find a roadblock ahead.

The individuals manning the checkpoint were not city guards, but enforcers from the Inquisition.

Three gray-robed enforcers stood in the middle of the road, led by a white-robed Junior Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor gestured for the carriage to halt, pointing to a sign that read: “Area ahead requisitioned, temporary prohibition of passage.”

Normally, such a display would suffice to disperse pedestrians and carriages. Indeed, most people would proactively detour upon seeing such an ominous group of Inquisitors from a distance.

However, this carriage merely slowed slightly, continuing to advance. The driver, an elderly man with a white beard, seemed to have poor eyesight. He squinted, leaning forward, his expression puzzled.

“Stop and turn around! Reroute to the east! The Church has temporarily requisitioned the area ahead!” the Junior Inquisitor warned.

“Eh?” The old driver cupped a hand to his ear, shouting back in confusion.

The Junior Inquisitor frowned suspiciously. This old man was not only blind but also deaf. Was he not afraid of accidents while driving a carriage?

He strode forward, waving for the other enforcers to follow, and pointed at the carriage, roaring, “Stop at once!”

The coachman finally understood and brought the horses to a halt.

Upon clearly seeing the attire of the people blocking the road, his expression shifted from confusion to terror.

“Ah! My apologies, Inquisitor! I didn’t see clearly…”

The old man waved his hands repeatedly.

“You, blind and deaf, dare to drive a carriage?” The Junior Inquisitor cursed, glancing at the carriage. “Is anyone else inside? Where are you going?”

The old man’s behavior gave him a strange feeling. Since the carriage had already drawn near, he decided to question them.

“My master, mistress, and young lady are inside. They are going for an outing in the suburbs,” the coachman said with a placating smile.

“Open the window for me to see,” the Junior Inquisitor commanded.

“Yes, yes, yes.” The old man turned to explain the situation.

‘Idiot! Did you not even ask when the Church made the announcement? Believe it or not, I’ll fire you tomorrow, you old fool who doesn’t know his place!’ The person inside the carriage cursed.

The old man hastily begged his employers for mercy. Simultaneously, the carriage door opened, and a man dressed as a wealthy merchant stepped down, head bowed. He removed his top hat as he apologized to the Junior Inquisitor: “My sincerest apologies, sir. Please forgive us.”

In that moment, as he stepped down, his top hat precisely obscured his face. At this point, the Inquisitor, detecting no anomaly, did not raise his guard. Then, as the top hat continued to lower, the Junior Inquisitor saw a mask.

Before the Junior Inquisitor could widen his eyes in surprise, the merchant suddenly lunged towards him with incredible speed, closing the distance in an instant. He raised a white-gloved arm and struck the Inquisitor’s chest.

The Inquisitor’s eyes rolled back, and he immediately lost consciousness. The assailant withdrew his hand, now holding a fragment of crystal.

This was ‘Abyss’ Fourth-Tier ‘Abyss Lord’ Soul Severance, which harvests only a small portion of the target’s soul, stealing a specific attribute. This attribute could be a physical sensation like touch, hearing, or sight, or it could be a memory. This time, the attacker had stolen his ability to think.

The carriage driver had already sprung into action with his companions, raising his hand to summon the ‘Warlock’s’ Corrosive Flame, instantly felling one enforcer. He then brandished a demonic claw and lunged at another.

Meanwhile, a masked girl leaped from the carriage, hurling a Corrosive Flame at the remaining enforcer.

In mere seconds, the entire Inquisitor squad manning the roadblock was annihilated.

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