While Klea remained under guarded recovery, Ery received another unexpected visit.
The heavy door of his confinent chamber opened not with hostility, but with deliberate formality.
Rosia of Terra stepped inside.
She did not co alone.
Behind her followed several figures in refined ceremonial robes-legal advocates formally retained by the Karat faction. Their insignia shimred subtly with rank and authority. These were not minor representatives sent as courtesy. These were professionals accustod to high-sector litigation, political arbitration, and factional disputes between planetary powers.
They carried more than evidence scrolls.
They carried influence.
The Karat delegates had not co rely to assist Rex in building a defense. They had co to apply counterpressure.
When the extended week expired, Ery was escorted once more into the main tribunal hall.
This ti, the atmosphere felt different.
More observers filled the gallery. Representatives from neutral factions had taken seats. Political tension hung in the air like static before a storm.
The proceedings began.
And they did not proceed quietly.
Magus Rex, reinforced by the Karat legal team, shifted from defensive posture to open offense. Instead of rely rebutting accusations, they dissected the Astiel narrative piece by piece. They refrad the confrontation not as an unprovoked massacre, but as a chain reaction initiated by unlawful detention, coercion, and spiritual tampering.
The chamber murmured.
The Karat advocates pressed further. They questioned the tiline. They challenged witness consistency. They raised procedural irregularities surrounding the rapid convening of the tribunal.
The Astiels countered swiftly.
They pivoted to the death toll and began playing the victim. They invoked stability. They invoked alliance unity. They frad Ery as a destabilizing force whose actions weakened the alliance-sothing detrintal in an escalating war.
Klea was summoned again.
Ery's chest tightened when she entered, supported but walking on her own. Pale still, but stronger. Her aura, though fragile, no longer flickered like a dying ember.
She spoke carefully. Calmly. Her testimony aligned with previous statents. Under cross-examination, she did not waver.
Another week passed under relentless legal exchange.
Gradually, the mood of the judging panel began to shift. Their questions grew more asured. Their expressions less rigid. The narrative was no longer one-sided.
That was when the Astiels altered course.
Without warning, they introduced a new argunt.
They claid that the deaths could not be reduced rely to a conflict between Earth and Astiel interests. They argued that sothing deeper- sothing darker-had influenced events.
Then they called a new witness.
The courtroom doors opened.
A Seraph entered.
White wings folded behind him. Golden aura restrained but unmistakable.
Ery recognized him instantly.
Zachari.
The senior seraph who had penetrated his domain during the exorcism attempt.
A cold current moved through Ery's chest.
"Tell the court what you witnessed," the prosecutor said.
Zachari stepped forward, wings half-folded behind him, expression solemn but restrained.
He spoke of sensing a presence that did not align with divine order. He described how the Cardinal had perceived corruption and how, under ecclesiastical authority, they had intervened. He explained that an exorcism attempt had been initiated because the spiritual disturbance surrounding Ery was judged to be dangerous.
As he spoke, the narrative subtly shifted.
No longer was Ery rely a defendant in a political conflict.
He was being refrad as sothing else.
An embodint of the very evil the Nephilim claid to stand against.
"The accused harbored a presence inconsistent with divine law," the prosecutor emphasized, seizing on every word. "Is that correct?"
Zachari paused.
"Yes," he said carefully. "There was... sothing"
But he did not elaborate.
He did not describe the gates
He did not speak of the beast.
He did not confirm the nature of what he had seen.
When pressed for specifics-whether the entity was demonic, abyssal, or aligned with forbidden dinsions-he answered with asured restraint. "I will not testify beyond what I am certain of."
That single sentence created a fracture in the prosecution's montum.
Magus Rex proved his worth, noticing sothing missing in their claim. He rose imdiately.
"Your Honor," he said smoothly, "why is the Seraph here to testify regarding a spiritual verdict that was not concluded? Where is the Cardinal who led this intervention? What was his final judgnt?"
The chamber grew still.
The prosecutor requested a summoning.
A brief recess followed.
The Cardinal did not appear.
Rex did not miss the opportunity.
"If the ecclesiastical authority who initiated the accusation is absent," he continued, "then what remains is subjective perception. Sensing 'evil' is not equivalent to establishing guilt. Without formal doctrinal declaration, this is
theological bias, not admissible proof."
The Karat legal representatives nodded in support, reinforcing the argunt with codified precedents.
For a mont, it seed the prosecution's pivot toward divine corruption had
stalled.
But the Astiels were prepared.
The lead prosecutor stepped forward once more.
"In light of the Seraph's testimony and the unresolved spiritual irregularities surrounding the accused," he said, voice steady, "we formally request that the accused undergo the Test of Faith."
The words struck the chamber like a thunderclap.
Gasps rippled through the audience.
The Test of Faith was not rely symbolic. It was a sacrant administered by
the Papal Church to evaluate one's alignnt with divine law. For those pure of spirit, it was affirmation. For those who walked in darkness, it was annihilation.
It was not called execution.
But in practice, that was precisely what it was.
Rex stood instantly.
"Objection," he uttered sharply. "The accused is an affiliate mber of the
Nephilim factions. He is not a core mber and therefore not subject to compulsory ecclesiastical examination.""
A murmur of agreent spread among neutral observers.
The prosecutor did not hesitate.
"Article 3018 of the Codex," he replied, already holding a prepared scroll. "A
leader of a Grade Two affiliate is to be regarded as a full mber for purposes
of doctrinal compliance and disciplinary asures."
Silence followed.
Ery felt a cold weight settle in his chest.
"Grade Two...?" he said quietly.
The prosecutor's lips curved faintly.
"Yes," he replied. "Congratulations are in order. Your Grade Two application was
approved yesterday."
A low wave of realization swept through the chamber.
Earth's advancent in Magus Alliance ranking should have taken years-years
of evaluation, political vetting, and review.
It had been accelerated.
Forced through.
Not as recognition.
As leverage. To make him eligible.
To make him vulnerable. Ery understood instantly.
The Astiels had moved their influence not only to condemn him-but to
reshape jurisdiction itself to ensure his destruction.
The Test of Faith was no longer a distant threat.
It was now legally admissible.
And the courtroom waited for the judge to speak.
Rex's composure faltered for the first ti since the proceedings began. He
turned slightly toward Ery, lowering his voice just enough to avoid
projecting weakness.
"How certain are you," he asked quietly, "that the Test of Faith would be... harmful to you?"
It was not a rhetorical question.
It was calculation.
Ery did not answer imdiately.
Inside, his thoughts moved rapidly. His Dao was not purely dark. Nor was it
purely light. He had walked a path of balance, one that embraced contradiction rather than submission to either extre. In theory, that balance might grant
him a chance-perhaps even a fair one.
Fifty percent. Perhaps.
But he was not naïve.
The Astiels had already demonstrated their willingness to bend procedures,
accelerate classifications, and manipulate jurisdiction itself. If the Test of Faith proceeded, it would not be conducted in neutral ground. It would be
orchestrated.
Refined.
Engineered.
He had no doubt that additional safeguards-unofficial ones-would be placed
within that ritual.
The judge, who had been listening carefully, leaned back in his seat. The proposal of the Test of Faith offered him sothing convenient-distance. If he approved it, responsibility would transfer to the Papal authority. The outco
would be frad as divine will, not judicial bias.
A clean solution.
"The court acknowledges the request," the judge began, tone asured.
The shift in atmosphere was imdiate.
This was the mont.
It was then that Ery heard it.
A voice.
Not audible to the room-but clear within his mind.
A single suggestion.
He identified it instantly.
Without hesitation, Ery straightened.
"I invoke my right," he said firmly, voice carrying through the chamber, "to the
Trial of Distinction."
The words cut through the air like a blade.
For a heartbeat, no one reacted. Then realization spread.
If Ery was legally classified as a Grade Two affiliate leader-if he was to be
treated as a full Nephilim mber for the purpose of religious examination- then he was equally entitled to the protections granted to identified prodigies and exceptional talents.
The Trial of Distinction.
An alternative codified under Nephilim law.
A path reserved for individuals whose potential was deed strategically
significant to the alliance.
It was not rcy.
It was rit-based exemption.
A genius, if proven, could bypass the Test of Faith.
The loophole was elegant.
And perfectly tid.
The prosecutors exchanged glances, irritation flashing across their faces.
The judge's brows furrowed as he consulted the codex.
"It is... procedurally valid," he admitted. Murmurs rippled through the chamber once more.
The prosecution attempted to object, but their footing was unstable. The very
classification they had weaponized against Ery had now granted him a defensive counterasure.
After a mont of deliberation, the judge raised his gavel. "The court grants the accused's petition. Proceedings are suspended pending completion of the Trial of Distinction. The accused will be evaluated under the appropriate standards. Court adjourned."
The strike echoed through the hall.
A delay.
An opportunity.
Not victory-but survival.
As the guards approached, Ery turned subtly, searching for the source of
that guiding whisper.
Near the back of the chamber, standing quietly among observers, was a figure
he had long respected.
Grand Magus Delbrand of the Magus Academy.
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