Duality 23 Judgmen

One more late and late night chapter.

This chapter doesn't have as many words as "Windows to the soul" — 3.5k against the previous 5.1k—, but it still took me a lot longer than expected. I guess we've all learned that I suck at planning. Whenever I give a time frame from now on, add a few days just to be on the safe side.

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Before walking forward, Jonathan asked her to let him do the talking and she nodded. She doubted that they would take her words seriously anyway.

Dene followed him into the audience room. A single glance and she took note of all of those present. Not because it was small, but because it was relatively empty.

From a rough estimate, she concluded it could comfortably house upwards of a hundred people. The southerner counted nine. She recognized all of them.

Standing on the floor, Jonathan's brother talked to his group from the night before. Minus the broke neck Heddwyn.

As they entered, his gaze fell upon her, naked hatred in his eyes. Like his older brother, he also had dark circles under his eyes. Different from Jonathan though, he was slouching, still feeling the aftermath of her kicks no doubt.

Dene could understand herself not getting healed, as Jonathan was the only one who treated her well, and one man can only do so much. What she didn't comprehend was why his brother hadn't been healed, especially for such a thing.

Whatever the reason though, it brought a not so involuntary sneer to her face, which only worked to increase his anger.

Besides him and the other three, there were also the two Paladin guards from yesterday. And upon the staired dais, Duke and d.u.c.h.ess sat on their respective thrones. Angela stood by the Duke's throne, talking to him.

Jonathan and his brother inherited most of their features from the father. Green eyes, chestnut hair, athletic builds and tall. Tall for northerners at least. Jonathan seemed to be the best one in this aspect and he still tilted his head upwards to gaze at Dene's eyes.

Save for the square jaw, the siblings didn't take after their mother at all. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders, and big brown eyes turned to look at Dene. The distaste for the dark-skinned woman was better concealed on the older woman's face, but still there.

Dene followed Jonathan until they were side by side directly in front of the dais. The last people having arrived, the Duke signaled and Angela stepped down from the dais so that she stood to the left of the hall. From the frown on his face, it was clear how much he didn't want to be there right now. With a sigh, he spoke, "Miss Grant, what's the first item for the day?"

Angela stepped forward and began her speech, "My Lord, on the grounds of this castle, a vicious crime took place. Last night, Heddwyn Bankes, son to Earl Bankes of Wesford, was cowardly murdered." Pointing to Dene, she continued, "The culprit also attempted murder against four other highborn, among which was young Lord Richard Olsen, whom she left gravely injured."

She had barely finished when someone cried out, "I want her executed!"

Jonathan immediately told his brother to shut up. Then turning to his father he asked, "Why is Miss Dene even under judgment? She is the victim here."

Richard once again demanded an execution, calling her a wh.o.r.e in the process and soon the two brothers were arguing.

"Silence!" The Duke closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. That's exactly why he didn't want to be doing this.

If Richard had a.s.saulted some random lowborn woman, then he would just sweep it under the rug. Had the woman been dark-skinned, there wouldn't even be a need to cover it up. And had any of them been hurt by the said woman, then she would be punished.

But for some reason his favorite son decided he had to defend this soot skin woman. making matters worse, she even managed to kill a n.o.ble.

Now he had to find a solution that pleased his two sons, as well as his wife who wanted the woman's death for hurting one of her children. Not enough, he also had to take into consideration Angela, Earl Bankes and the other n.o.bles under himself, to whom the news would undoubtedly leak.

At the same time yesterday he had been celebrating while a perfect storm started taking shape over his head. The Duke sighed for the second time and addressed Jonathan's protest, "Although it isn't clear what exactly happened yesterday, it's undeniable that the desert woman killed a n.o.ble. The case has to be judged, and I'll determine if she is guilty or not."

Wanting to end this as soon as possible, he called the two Paladin guards forward to give their testimonies. Then came Jonathan, Richard and each of his followers. Angela also gave her account, though it had less value as she came back to the kitchen after the fight ended.

Dene, the central figure in the case, wasn't called to speak, a fact that didn't go unnoticed. Jonathan protested and the Duke brushed it off saying it wasn't needed, seeing as everyone had given practically the same account of the event. And, surprisingly, that was true.

Jonathan looked at Dene and she just nodded. There really wasn't anything she could add. Richard himself told what happened as if there wasn't anything wrong in his actions, which made the southerner wonder if he and Jonathan were really related.

Having heard —almost— all involved parties, the Duke gave his judgment. "The desert woman, Dene, undeniably took the life of a n.o.ble, a crime punishable by death. However, given that the accused did so under duress, the death penalty shall not be used and she will be sentenced to flogging no less than-"

He didn't get to finish. Unwilling to accept what was happening, Richard and his mother both argued. Jonathan didn't say a word, but it was clear he didn't accept it either.

The Duke's attempt to finding a middle ground displeased everyone.

While his brother and mother protested, Jonathan walked to one of the guards and reached for the man's scabbard. The man didn't dare to stop him.

With a mix of anger and indignation plastered on his face, the young Lord walked back to the front of the dais, his actions finally being noticed.

His mother stopped arguing and looked at him. Already knowing the answer, but not daring to believe it, she asked: "Son, what are you doing?"

With the weapon in hands, he answered, "I refuse to recognize this sentence. If Miss Dene was highborn it would be Richard and his accomplices who would be under judgment." He proceeded to unsheathe the sword and put its blade against the palm of his hand. "I demand a trial by com-"

"Stop!" "Stop him!" both parents cried out before he could spill his blood.

One guard rushed for the sword while the other held his hands.

Jonathan himself was just a Crusader, so the two Paladins disarmed him without much effort.

Even without a weapon, he remained defiant, looking straight into his father's eyes.

The Duke leaned back into his throne, put a hand to his forehead and sighed once again. Dene was sure she heard a cuss under his breath. She wasn't the only one.

He remained like that for a good half a minute before ultimately conceding, "Fine, you win. I declare the deser- Miss Dene… not guilty."

In the blink of an eye, Jonathan went from silent, righteous anger to a jubilant child. He had a smile from ear to ear and looked ready to give Dene a hug, but held himself back.

The d.u.c.h.ess's relief won over her wish to see Dene punished. It wouldn't be worth it if her son was willing to go that far to protect the desert woman. Her husband didn't move. He was tired.

Angela was far from happy with the decision. Unfortunately for her, there was nothing she could do.

The only one who spoke out against it was Richard. That got his father to move. He berated his son for the problems he caused, ordered him to be confined to his bedchambers and to remain without healing. The two guards dragged the screeching n.o.ble away while his followers left the hall, afraid to speak out.

The matter was resolved, but Jonathan remained there, same as his father.

The middle-aged man wanted nothing more than to laze in bed for the rest of the day, but there was still an important matter on the agenda. Something that could affect the balance of power between the four kingdoms.

Straightening himself in the throne he told Angela to hand them the letter that was brought yesterday by the Duval Knight.

Jonathan started reading it before remembering something. He approached Dene and held the letter so both of them could read it.

It read:

"To your Grace, Duke of The Great Plains and brother of the faith.

Year 7,852 AU, Day 13 of the 1st moon of summer.

Greetings to House Olsen and the free people of The Great Plains. As your Grace is well aware, much blood has been spilled by our ancestors so that we could call ourselves free. Even after achieving independence, the four kingdoms have always remained in a tenuous peace with our former occupiers, the Solis Empire.

We all know that, under the surface, they continue to plot for the destruction of our Houses, the enslavement of our people and the abolis.h.i.+ng of our faith! But the Holy Flame is strong and wise, and one night, it came to me with a mission.

In a dream, it told me of a place at the deserts to the south. There, it told me, I would find the key to defending our lands. So I gathered the armies and marched south, subjugating every soot demon in my way until reaching my final destination. There, I found a particularly strong tribe of demons. They called themselves Yao.

The battle was long and b.l.o.o.d.y. The False Flame stood strong with its minions, determined to keep us away from the promised land. Dark clouds blocked the sun, turning day into night and making the demons even stronger.

One after the other, our soldiers fell and all seemed lost. But at the darkest hour, the Holy Flame came to our rescue. A mighty voice reverberated through the battlefield and told us that the faithful would prevail.

The clouds moved and a single ray of sunlight fell upon me. The demons shrieked in pain while our soldiers were invigorated. I raised my sword to the skies and it ignited. The Holy Flame was with me, so I rushed towards the enemy felling any who dared to stand in my way. Before long, the clouds dissipated and the demons ran away. The day had been won.

But my mission wasn't over yet.

The Holy Flame guided me deeper into the tribe. There, I found a large stairwell leading underground. As I went deeper, I could feel the concentration of mana in the air becoming thicker to a palpable degree. Finally, the stairwell came to an end, and I found myself inside a wide corridor that only got wider the further I went until it was no longer possible to see the walls.

That was the promised land, told me the Holy Flame. With such a thick concentration of mana, it will be possible to train soldiers faster than ever before.

In honor of my conquest over the demons, I was allowed to name the promised land. Therefore, the training grounds for the faithful shall be known, now and forever, as La Louisiane.

Before leaving, it told me to share the news with the faithful, and that together, we shall withstand the Solis menace and remain free.

In 3 months from the writing of this letter, I shall host a conference to decide how we will share La Louisiane, and every Great House is invited.

As proof of the promised land's effectiveness, I've sent a soot demon along with this letter. Although from such a backward and barren place as a desert, they were able to reach great heights in their cultivation thanks to La Louisiane.

The Duke of Margandy, Crown Prince Louis."

…

Dene could've gathered every chamber pot in this castle, and it still wouldn't be a pile of c.r.a.p as big as that story.

Dark clouds in the desert?

One single voice managing to reverberate through a battlefield?

And what the h.e.l.l is 'La Louisiane'? It was called 'Secret Realm'. That's the name The Benefactor had given it hundreds of years ago, and that's what her tribe had always called it.

Jonathan finished reading shortly after her, and the Duke spoke once again. "As you can imagine, I don't know how much of that is true. But if the place he speaks of is really so miraculous, I need to know everything about it." Then addressing her for the first time since this all began, he asked her for anything she knew about the Secret- La Louisiane. In exchange, he would allow her to remain with Jonathan as his servant.

Dene knew that there wouldn't be a better offer coming from him. She also knew that if he didn't receive a satisfactory answer, he would ask again through less pleasant means, so she just nodded.

She decided to share some basic knowledge while withholding any deeper information such as the key to the core grounds, which was embedded in her arm.

Seeing her agree, he began by asking, "How did your tribe find this promised land?"

"We didn't," she answered truthfully, trying to sound as respectful as possible. "Legends say that half a millennia ago, The Benefactor descended from the sky and landed in front of he who would become the first Chief of our tribe. With a simple wave of her hand, she opened a hole on the ground and revealed the promised land, though she called it Secret Realm."

"Is this what it's called? Secret Realm?"

"Yes and no. First you shou- your Grace should know that the Secret Realm isn't a single area. After one goes down the stairs and through the corridor, they will find themselves in the outer grounds. Going deeper, there will be a gate that will lead to the inner grounds. Finally, in the inner grounds, there will be a gate that leads to the core grounds."

"Anyone can enter the outer grounds," she continued. "To enter the inner grounds though, one must go through a trial. If one fails, they will be kicked out, but it's possible to try as many times as one wants. There's also a test to enter the core grounds, with one difference. Failing means death."

"That's good to know," the Duke noted, "but what does it have to do with the name?"

"Well, The Benefactor said that only by entering the core grounds one will be allowed to know the true name of the Secret Realm. And up until now, no one ever managed to do it."

"No one?" He was doubtful. Even if one would die by failing the trial, she said it herself that they knew of this Secret Realm for five hundred years. How come no one managed to pa.s.s it?

When he made his doubts known, she answered that was because the trial was simply too hard, which was true. To pa.s.s it, The Benefactor had told them, one would need to become both a Paladin and a Warlock. Before completing 30 years of age.

That wasn't the whole truth, though. Even if one pa.s.sed the trials, they still wouldn't be able to enter unless they had the key. Furthermore, if one had it, they wouldn't be killed even if they failed the trial.

"Both? That's impossible." He immediately dismissed the idea, sure that it couldn't be done. He himself had become a Paladin a little after his thirties, and that was without training as a Spellcaster.

Jonathan wasn't so sure though. "Is it really impossible? Miss Dene seems quite young and she is already a 4th stage Crusader and a 2nd stage Archmage." He then asked her, "How old are you?" Or at least intended to. He stopped mid-sentence, remembering what his mother once told him about asking ladies their ages.

Already understanding the question though, she answered, "I'm 21 years old."

"I a.s.sume you've made use of this Secret Realm?"

"Yes, your Grace," she answered the Duke's question, "any promising youth would once a year be taken to train inside the Secret Realm and spend a month inside."

"Why just one month?"

"That's to maintain the concentration of mana. If they let everybody cultivate inside at the same time, it would become the same as doing it outside."

He nodded in understanding. "And I a.s.sume that the concentration of mana is bigger inside the inner grounds compared to the outer grounds."

"Yes, your Grace, but not only that. Depending on one's talents and elemental affinities, it's possible to receive instructions about spells or secret techniques." That was the truth. Most of the tribe's spell knowledge came from the inner grounds. This was also why she wasn't aware that light element could be used to heal or, 'mend' as Jonathan called it. Her tribe, as with most other desert tribes, had little affinity with the light element.

She herself had even gained a secret technique: Blood magic. But the price was simply too great, so she never used it.

"And what are the trials like?"

"The inner grounds trials have to do with combat. To pa.s.s it, one must defeat a puppet at the same cultivation level as themselves. As for the core grounds, we suspected it to be something similar, but all who attempted it died, so we don't know what it's like."

"That's good enough," he said while rubbing his eyes, clearly getting tired. "Anything else of importance?"

"No, your Grace. The Chief may have known more, but he was captured after the battle." She told the last part as if it didn't tear her up inside. But for all intents and purposes, it would be better if they didn't know he was her father.

"Okay then, you both can go," the Duke said, dismissing the two. He also told Angela that he didn't want to be disturbed for the rest of the day, dismissed her and stood up along his wife.

Dene gave a sigh of relief knowing it was over for now. She was going to follow Jonathan out but he didn't move. Instead, with his sweetest voice, he asked his father to wait.

His father looked at him with a tired expression. Even though his mother remained displeased by his previous stunt, a little smile still managed to creep up her face.

"You know dad, Miss Dene managed to stand against five other Crusaders and almost came out on top. Don't you think she is a great warrior?"

The Duke lost count of how many times he had already sighed today. With one more he answered, "Yes son, she is."

"So, instead of being a servant, wouldn't someone of her talents be better used as… I don't know… a sparring partner for me to train with?"

"... fine. Anything else?"

"Well, now that you asked..." He then proceeded to arrange for her to have a salary and even some freedom so she could move inside the castle grounds, on the condition she was accompanied by guards. It may seem that the guards would be there to report everything she did to the Duke, and that was the case. Jonathan's plan, though, was to have someone to protect her from Richard in case he wasn't around.

Each thing he asked was another sigh from his father and a smile from his mother.

Dene was already happy with what he got her —or at least as happy as someone in her situation could be. But when Jonathan mentioned removing her collar, she just knew it would be refused. There's no way that would pa.s.s. An Archmage such as herself could kill a lot of people. It even was possible to wound a Paladin such as the Duke if she had time to prepare. So of course he allowed…

He allowed.

Now she kinda wanted to know what else Jonathan could get her. If he pushed enough, maybe she would be able to finish yesterday's job and castrate Richard.

After agreeing to all of his son's demands, the Duke finally drew a line, said he wouldn't give anything else and left the hall with his now chuckling wife, giving the correct impression that he was trying to escape. Which was unnecessary given that Jonathan had already gotten everything he wanted.

Now, Dene and Jonathan were the only ones still left.

He looked at her with a smile on his face but turned away embarra.s.sed once she looked back. That itself brought the first smile to her face in a long, long time. Not a s.a.d.i.s.tic one such as when she saw Angela grieving, but a genuine one.

She looked around, making sure there was no one looking from outside. Having done that, she then wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss in his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

At that moment she discovered something new about the white-skinned northerners. When they blush, it shows. A lot.