Ery's completion of Level Five in the Spirit Path fulfilled the formal requirent for the Nephilim Trial of Distinction. By law, that achievent stripped the prosecution of its strongest weapon-he could no longer be compelled to undergo the Test of Faith.
Yet the court had not issued its final ruling.
The days that followed were tense and strangely quiet. Though no chains bound him now, he remained under captivity, awaiting judgnt.
During that ti, Grand Magus Delbrand visited frequently, not as a politician, but as a teacher.
What Ery lacked, Delbrand explained, was not talent, nor courage, nor even raw power.
It was the Law of Origin.
"There is a law beneath all laws," Delbrand said during one such visit, "When a grand magus truly walks the path of the cosmos, there cos a point where all fragnted comprehension begins to converge. Light, darkness, space, ti- these are branches. Origin is the root."
Most two-cosmos grand magus would sense its shadow and begin integrating it as they prepared for the third cosmos. It was the invisible thread that unified disparate laws into a coherent whole. Without it, a cultivator might be powerful -but never complete.
Ery had grown too quickly. His breakthroughs had been unconventional- Khaos, the Elysian Tree, the Devouring Beast, and his bloodline awakening. All of it had accelerated his ascent, but his foundation had not matured at the sa pace.
That was why the Level Five Martial clone had overwheld him. It had not possessed greater raw power-it had been more integrated. Its strength flowed from a unified origin. Ery's did not.
As he ditated on these words, attempting to sense that elusive convergence within himself, the trial continued in parallel.
Delbrand noticed the tension in his heart and said calmly, "Do not worry... you will be fine." There was a quiet confidence in his tone, as though he knew sothing Ery did not.
The Trial continue
Ery stood once again before the elevated panel of judges, the vast courtroom hushed beneath the weight of expectation. The air itself felt heavy, layered with political tension and restrained hostility. Across the hall, the Astiel delegation remained rigid and unyielding, their expressions carved from stone.
As expected, they had not given up.
Instead of retreating after his completion of the Trial of Distinction, the Astiel shifted tactics. Their legal representatives no longer focused solely on the massacre itself, but refrad the narrative-speaking of "alliance stability," "inter-factional harmony" and "reckless endangernt of the greater magus order." Their words were carefully chosen, designed not rely to punish Ery, but to brand him as a destabilizing force within the Alliance. It was at that mont that the atmosphere subtly changed. Several new figures entered the courtroom-calm, dignified, and impossibly influential. Representatives of the three main Nephilim clans: Azazel, Aztebas, and Amarhiks. Their arrival did not co with fanfare, yet every grand magus present imdiately understood the significance.
These were not rely observers; they were stabilizers. Their interest was not in Ery or Astiel specifically-but in preventing the conflict from escalating and fracture the Nephilim image across the Alliance
There was definitely a political maneuver at play, though Ery could not yet discern its full intent.
Rex and the Karat legal team stiffened, anticipating a coordinated strike that might crush Ery entirely. Yet, strangely, no new accusations were launched. Instead, subtle exchanges passed between the clan representatives and the judges-asured glances, discreet transmissions
Within an hour, after deliberations that felt far longer than they truly were, the judge returned with the final ruling.
The entire hall fell silent.
"After reviewing the claims and witness testimonies," the judge began, voice steady, "the Magus Alliance Court rules as follows."
"In the matter of the alleged murder of one hundred fifty-six individuals, the court finds the defendant... not guilty."
A wave of murmurs rippled through the chamber.
"In the matter of three thousand recorded injuries and property destruction, the court finds the defendant... not guilty."
Each declaration tightened the Astiel ruler Darian's expression and eased the iron weight in Ery's chest.
But the judge was not finished.
"In the matter concerning endangernt of Magus Alliance stability, and the excessive use of force resulting in casualties among recognized alliance mbers, the court finds the defendant... guilty."
The hall erupted into controlled chaos.
The judge continued over the noise.
"While the court recognizes provocation and manipulation in the events leading to the incident, the scale of destruction remains undeniable. Therefore, the defendant is ordered to serve sanctioned duty in place of the aggrieved party, amounting to twenty years' worth of contribution-equivalent to a total of five million Alliance rits."
The ruling sent a low wave of murmurs through the courtroom. Even among seasoned grand magus and political envoys, the number carried weight.
Five million Alliance rits.
That figure represented nearly twenty years of accumulated contribution for a Grade Three faction-missions completed, high-risk operations undertaken, criminals apprehended, territories defended, and resources secured for the
Alliance.
Now that burden was being placed on him.
With more than half of Astiel's elite forces dead, the court had effectively ruled that Ery would assu their share of Alliance duty for the next two decades. The loss would be repaid through his service.
Ery calculated the scale instinctively.
The bounty he had received for eliminating Mo Yan-a notorious criminal-had been forty thousand rits. At that rate, five million ant capturing or
eliminating over a hundred similar high-value targets.
For a single individual, one supported only by a newly advanced Grade Two faction, the weight was imnse.
This was not a fine.
It was conscription.
A forced draft into sanctioned military service under the Alliance banner, with
Astiel's losses converted into a debt to be repaid in blood, danger, and years of service. The court had avoided execution and public scandal, yet ensured he would remain under scrutiny, fighting on the front lines for a long ti to
co.
The political balance was precise-almost elegant.
Ery felt the weight of the judgnt settle across his shoulders, but it did not bend him. There was no regret in his gaze, no flicker of hesitation. If circumstances demanded it, he would be more than willing to shoulder another
five million rits to finish the other half remained of the Astiel forces.
"The court is adjourned."
The restraints around Ery's wrists dissolved into strands of light and
vanished into the floor.
"You are free to go."
He flexed his fingers once, steady and silent, then stepped down from the defendant's platform. As he passed the Astiel delegation, Darian's cold gaze
locked onto him.
A ntal voice pierced his mind.
Ery did not slow. A faint smile appeared on his lips.
The Sky Lord had yet to show himself. Earth's secrets were still entangled with
Astiel's ambitions. Whatever the court had ruled, their conflict was far from
finished.
On the opposite side, Rosia gave him a firm nod. Jinkan and Eeshoo exhaled in
relief.
Delbrand approached last.
"I told you," the man said calmly, "it would be resolved. Now, we should begin your Origin Law training. There are people you must et."
Ery inclined his head respectfully toward Delbrand, gratitude evident in his expression, yet his decision did not waver.
"My apologies, Senior," he said quietly. "But not now."
Ery turned without hesitation.
His priority was not cultivation. Not politics. Not rit.
There was only one person on his mind.
With his freedom restored, Ery went directly to the witness chamber. It was
silent when he entered.
There she was, lay upon the bed. Her figure pale against white sheets, her
breathing shallow but steady.
When she saw him-without chains, without restraints-a faint smile curved
her lips. "We're free," Ery said softly. "I'm taking you ho."
He lifted her gently into his arms and she wrapped her arms around him.
Without a word, and without ceremony, they left the Nephilim sector behind. They returned to Terra City quietly-far enough from danger to protect her fragile condition, and safely within friendly territory.
No grand reception awaited them. No celebration. The palace overlooking Terra City stood bathed in warm sunlight, but Ery ignored its grandeur. He secluded them in the highest tower, where only the sky and wind kept watch.
For days, he rarely left her side.
He personally oversaw her recovery, administered potions, stabilized her soul.
When her breathing faltered at night, his hand was already there, steady and
warm.
He did not train.
He did not ditate.
He was simply there.
Ti seems slowed.
Morning light filtered through tall crystal windows, painting the room gold.
Evenings were spent watching the horizon lt into crimson and violet while
she rested quietly beside him.
Gradually, color returned to her cheeks.
Her laughter-soft at first-began to sound like itself again.
It was sunset when he led her onto the balcony.
The sky stretched endlessly, painted in amber and rose. A gentle breeze carried
the scent of blooming trees from the gardens below.
Klea leaned against the marble railing, her hair lifted slightly by the wind.
For a long mont, they simply stood together, shoulders brushing.
It was sothing both of them had longed for-monts without war, without
sches, without survival hanging in the balance.
Then Ery stepped forward.
"Klea."
She turned toward him, and sothing in her gaze softened.
"I should have done this long ago," he said quietly.
He lowered himself onto one knee.
***
"Klea... I love you.. and I want to be with you... for eternity."
He took her hand gently.
His voice did not waver.
"Klea... will you marry ?"
The answer ca with a warm, radiant smile.
"Yes,"
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