One week later — Arie Main House, Court Waiting Room
"…There seem to be a lot of outsiders in the city. What's going on?"
One of the Elders glanced out the window. Even that brief look was enough to take in the massive crowd below. Of course, this floor was high enough to give a wide view, but even accounting for that, the city was far more crowded than usual.
"Did you forget? The Festival of the Sword starts in two days. They must've arrived early."
The Festival of the Sword—a day established to praise and celebrate Arie Hon and the greatness of the Arie Family. While the main house strictly limited residency, it was relatively lenient about simple entry for travel and such. During the Festival of the Sword, it went so far as to openly welco outsiders, which naturally drew enormous crowds.
Of course, given the city's murderous cost of living, even the visitors were limited to the upper class—or journalists and corporate executives sponsored by their organizations. Still, when people poured in from countless floors, the numbers inevitably beca overwhelming.
"We should restrict entry next ti. There are unusually many people at this festival. It's noisy. Annoying."
"It also highlights Father's generosity. Let's leave that discussion for later. For now, the trial cos first."
"Right. The trial is the priority. That child has grown too much. It's ti to cut him down."
"I still find it a bit wasteful. How about sentencing him to lifelong service to the family? He'd be easy to use as we please."
With that brief exchange, all the Elders rose from their seats.
They were the ones who had led the Arie Family for ages, accumulating countless achievents—and just as many corruptions. Living relics of Arie, they flung the doors wide open and strode down the long corridor.
To put the final seal on the trap they had laid.
"Open the doors."
When they reached the entrance to the courtroom, the guards bowed and threw the doors open. Light spilled from the courtroom into the dark corridor, washing over the Elders' eyes. Shielding their faces with their hands, they entered.
They took seats several steps higher than the judge's bench, waiting for their prey with eyes clouded by filth.
.....
Arie Family Underground Prison
"...…"
Ugh. My head hurts.
I'd had a heart attack last night. With both arms bound tight in chains and suspended, there was nothing I could do—I just had to endure the pain with my entire body. I hadn't slept a wink, and now my head throbbed too.
I was basically a walking hospital. A walking hospital.
I hadn't eaten or drunk anything for a week, but I was still… okay. At least physically. It just felt like my once-abundant spirit was being worn down to dust.
My body was tough enough to handle it. For now.
I woke up—by chance, I guess—but with nothing to do, I was about to close my eyes again when—
Clank.
I sensed a group entering the underground prison. It had been almost a week. Guess today was the trial.
As expected, it was the Enforcent Units.
One of them checked my condition through the bars and widened his eyes slightly, as if impressed.
"Huh. You've already recovered. Without any treatnt, too."
I clenched my teeth and swallowed a groan. Maybe my lung had been pierced—every breath sent pain through my chest.
While I struggled, two of them cut the chains suspending from the ceiling. I collapsed to the floor like a sack of trash.
"Take him."
They loaded with fresh chains, fitted a gag over my mouth so I couldn't speak, and fastened so unknown device around my neck before escorting out.
Damn it. That thing around my neck—definitely a bomb. I didn't even need to see it to know.
Clink, clank.
The chains rattled loudly as I walked.
In a situation like this, it'd be natural to think of so solution—but my thoughts were drifting elsewhere. To a dream I'd had a few days ago. About my illness.
So we finally et, '.' Was it fun abusing the body? It hurt enough to kill you, didn't it?
Not now. This isn't the ti for that.
Illness or not, I needed to survive this trial first—then maybe I could try a revolution or whatever. I had to save Anna. I didn't have ti to be tied up in a place like this.
And yet… I wasn't even confident I could escape this quicksand pit.
While the Elders spent the week plotting how to devour , I'd been thrown into a dungeon, completely powerless. The helplessness weighed heavily on .
I kept stuffing my head with useless thoughts and hollow optimism just to avoid facing reality. Pathetic.
After a long walk, I finally saw light spilling out ahead.
I looked at my current state—and at the expressionless Enforcent soldiers walking beside .
Before reaching the main house, I hadn't been too worried. Now, it felt completely different.
Honestly… I didn't think I'd walk out of this trial alive.
"Open the doors."
At last, we reached them. At the lead enforcer's command, the guards heaved the doors open, and the light of the courtroom washed over us.
Squinting slightly, I stepped inside—only to be t by countless gazes.
Three judges of the Arie Family Judiciary sat high above. Higher still sat the Elders. The sight—so blatantly showing who truly held power—was absurd enough to make laugh bitterly.
Behind , to my left and right, sat the spectators.
Dickel. Schmitt. Other Arie Rankers interested in this trial. Even High Rankers who, like Dickel and Schmitt, held positions of authority.
And on the other side—
…Maschenny?
I blinked. No, that really was Maschenny. Why was she here?
I desperately wanted to shout, but with the gag in my mouth, even if I spoke, no sound would carry.
As I stared at her, our eyes finally t.
Damn it. I look like absolute hell right now.
Maschenny's lips parted as if she were about to say sothing, but soone beside her placed a hand on her shoulder. She seed to regain her composure.
Who's that next to her? I can't see well under the robe. Her attendant?
"Where do you think you're looking? Face forward."
"…."
Finding my fixed stare suspicious, the enforcers forced to my knees at the defendant's stand.
No—calling it a defendant's stand was generous. I was kneeling right in the middle of the courtroom.
In any case, it seed everyone had arrived. After a mont, the judge in the center struck the gavel.
"Order. We will now determine the punishnt of Arie Hoaquin, charged with the destruction of the 96th Floor and conspiracy with FUG—cris of family treason."
"Wait!"
"What is it? Floating Fortress Lord Arie Rom Dickel."
"Why is Hoaquin in such terrible condition?! The injuries he sustained during transport should have already healed!"
Dickel shouted, glaring at the Elders.
It was them! They stabbed again!—I wanted to scream, but the gag made it impossible.
The Elders rely smirked and shrugged.
"On what basis do you make that claim? His wounds must have healed slowly. The underground prison isn't exactly ideal for natural recovery."
"We can verify it through the Situation Control Room's lighthouse—!"
"That's enough, Dickel. That device was not submitted as prior evidence. Any further disturbance may result in removal from the courtroom."
At the judge's intervention, Dickel had no choice but to swallow his anger and sit back down.
"No further disruptions will be tolerated. We hereby announce the start of the trial to determine the disposition of Arie Hoaquin."
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The gavel struck three tis.
The trial had begun.
As soon as it did, one of the Elders stood. When all eyes were on him, he finally spoke.
"What a tragedy. A promising talent, once the pride of many, reduced to this state. The accused conspired with FUG and, as a result, devastated the 96th Floor. This is the evidence."
After delivering that inventive pile of nonsense, he pressed a button on a remote-like device. A massive lighthouse appeared, projecting footage.
—Report! The Outer Tower of the 96th Floor is under attack! One mithril mine has sustained severe damage! The main perpetrator is presud to be the Regular, Arie Hoaquin!—
It was footage sent to the main house by a Ranker under Schmitt during the incident.
The video shifted to various CCTV angles across the Outer Tower city—each showing from a different perspective.
— [KRAAAAGH!]
Seeing myself on screen, my entire body engulfed in white light as I scread so inhuman roar… the real problem was that I wasn't the only one watching.
To , it was nothing more than an embarrassing dark chapter of my life.
To them, though, I probably looked like nothing but a terrorist.
The footage continued, showing rampaging out of control, blasting black-and-white shinsu in every direction as I indiscriminately destroyed the Outer Tower. Only after everyone had been forced to watch wreak havoc for quite so ti did the Elder finally turn off the lighthouse projection.
Those who hadn't known the full story—who at first had thought I was rely a victim of the Elders' power—now realized I had actually done those things. The looks they gave grew noticeably colder.
…Damn it. This isn't going well.
Sensing that the situation was tilting in his favor, the Elder grew more animated.
"As a result of this incident, three large mines containing valuable ore collapsed, and countless losses were suffered—both to the natural environnt and to the Outer Tower cities. This is an act that runs directly counter to the family's interests, and thus the most decisive proof that the accused is a traitor to the family. Does anyone object?"
The presiding judge, who had been quietly tapping his forehead with a finger as he listened, turned toward the audience once the Elder finished speaking.
"We have heard the Elder's opinion. As the defendant charged with treason is not granted the right to speak, and as no legal counsel has been appointed, we will now seek a representative to speak on the defendant's behalf. Is there anyone among the audience willing to do so?"
…What? I don't even get to speak until the trial's over?
While I was still reeling from that, several people in the audience stood up. The judge looked surprised and began checking the list of attendees, calling them out one by one.
"…Arie Rom Dickel. Arie Schmitt. Khun Maschenny Zahard… Hmm. Who is the individual standing beside Princess Khun Maschenny Zahard?"
The man in the blue robe who had been standing next to Maschenny waved his hands dismissively and smiled slyly.
"Ah! My apologies. I'm not a representative. Just the Princess's humble attendant, so please don't mind and carry on."
"…Very well. Then, among the representatives, is there anyone who wishes to refute the Elder's statent?"
The first to raise his hand was Schmitt. He cleared his throat a few tis, then spoke up to counter the Elder.
"Respected—well, in any case, Elder, Your Honors. As the forr ruler of the 96th Floor, I will offer my opinion on that incident. Wasn't it already decided by the administration to cover it up?"
Murmurs rippled through the courtroom.
"Furthermore, the destruction was not intentional on Hoaquin's part. It was caused by the Bestial Ability of Lo Po Bia Reta Zahard. This was already submitted in an official report, and the administration accepted it."
The cold looks from the audience softened slightly.
To prove that I hadn't acted with intent—though "innocent" might be a stretch—Schmitt continued without pause.
"As you saw in the footage earlier, Hoaquin was screaming and clearly incapable of rational judgnt. If he truly intended to destroy the 96th Floor, he would have attacked the Inner Tower, not the Outer Tower. More importantly, as I said, the administration had already decided to put this matter to rest. It is far too late to assign responsibility now."
He took a breath, then added firmly,
"And finally, there is no evidence in any of the footage that Hoaquin conspired with FUG, Elder."
"The 96th Floor incident, miraculously, resulted in minimal casualties. In the end, it was nothing more than fallout from a factional conflict between Zahard's Princesses. Princess Khun Maschenny Zahard herself can attest to this."
With that, Schmitt returned to his seat.
All eyes turned to Maschenny, who calmly accepted the attention and followed through on his final point.
"I swear upon the Great Red Three-Eyed Symbol. What Lord Schmitt has said is the truth. Hoaquin acted without malicious intent."
"...!"
A Zahard Princess swearing upon the Red Three-Eyed Symbol—the emblem of Zahard himself—was no trivial matter. Her words shocked the audience, the judges, and even the Elders.
They clearly hadn't expected her to go that far.
"…Very well," the judge said slowly. "As Lord Schmitt stated, there is currently no definitive proof that Hoaquin conspired with FUG. Do any of the Elders wish to rebut this?"
"I will."
Another Elder stood up. Casting an irritated glance at Schmitt and Maschenny, he began his rebuttal.
"Regrettably, it is indeed a fact that Hoaquin conspired with FUG. And here—this—is the evidence."
Flash.
A lighthouse projected a personal profile. The mont the image appeared, gasps echoed throughout the courtroom.
And I gasped too.
Ha Jinsung.
A Ten Families killer.
A monster who annihilated an entire branch of the Ha Family.
An ancient terror.
Anyone from the Ten Families with even a passing knowledge of FUG—especially the older generation—would recognize him instantly.
"At one point, the accused's whereabouts were confird on the 89th Floor. Ha Jinsung was also confird to have moved to the 89th Floor around the sa ti."
The Elder continued coldly.
"As you can see, there is an overlap between the accused's movents and Ha Jinsung's. Shortly after this overlap, the accused rapidly ascended the Tower and reached the 96th Floor."
Damn it. That old man never helps.
Ha Jinsung had shown up right in front of Maschenny and , spouted so cryptic nonsense, and then left. I'd wondered why he even bothered coming—never imagined it'd co back to bite like this.
"Ha Jinsung has a history of recruiting nurous Ten Families Rankers into FUG," the Elder went on. "I don't know how persuasive his silver tongue may be, but it's hardly impossible that the accused fell for it."
"Objection, Your Honor!"
"…?"
The line was so familiar that I instinctively turned my head toward the voice.
It was Dickel.
Because he had shouted mid-statent, countless gazes locked onto him.
"Considering Hoaquin's past, the idea that he conspired with FUG is utterly absurd."
He glanced at briefly, then continued.
"130 years ago—the 99th Floor incident. On that day, Hoaquin lost his family. As everyone here knows, the cause was a floating-stone bomb terror attack carried out by FUG."
A hush fell over the room.
"Since then, as he climbed the Tower, Hoaquin has slaughtered countless mbers of FUG. By confird records alone: two FUG High Rankers, thirty Rankers, eighty-nine branch bases destroyed, and miscellaneous operations totaling eight hundred ninety-two incidents."
The audience was visibly shaken—by the fact that a re Regular had killed High Rankers and Rankers alike, and by the sheer scale of FUG casualties attributed to .
"Those of you here may not know this," Dickel continued, "but in the lower floors, Hoaquin was once called the FUG Butcher by other Regulars."
His gaze sharpened.
"Would FUG truly approach soone like that? And even if they did—would Hoaquin ever approach FUG?"
As if to reinforce his argunt, Maschenny rose from her seat once more.
"It's true that Hoaquin t Ha Jinsung. I was there too. But aside from a brief clash, nothing else happened."
One of the Elders—clearly irritated by the outside interference—shot Maschenny a sharp look and sneered,
"Hah! What, are you going to swear on that Red Three-Eyed Crest again this ti?"
"If you want to, I will," Maschenny replied coolly. "And watch your mouth, Elder. The Red Three-Eyed Crest isn't sothing an outsider unaffiliated with the royal family gets to casually invoke."
"…!"
For a mont, the enraged Elder let a vicious aura leak toward her—but Maschenny rely scoffed, as if amused, and calmly returned to her seat.
That reaction only fueled the Elder's fury.
That's my Maschenny!
Watching this, I almost felt refreshed. The situation seed to be moving in my favor.
The 96th Floor incident had already been officially buried.
It wasn't intentional.
And the accusation that I colluded with FUG had been dismantled.
They were trying to pin cris on that I hadn't even committed—there were limits to how far the Elders' perjury could go.
The problem was… this was exactly where a fair trial ended.
The presiding judge and the two associate judges leaned toward each other, whispering among themselves. When one of the Elders approached them, they hurriedly lowered their heads.
The Elder spoke to them in a coercive tone. As ti passed, the judges' expressions visibly twisted.
Everyone in the courtroom—including and Maschenny—saw it.
"Ahem! We will now announce the following!" the presiding judge declared loudly.
"By the unanimous decision of the five Elders, the authority of the Acting Family Head has been invoked!"
At those words, the faces of Dickel, Schmitt, and several other Arié mbers in the gallery stiffened.
I didn't fully understand what "Acting Family Head authority" ant—but I could tell, unmistakably, that things were going badly.
"The trial will proceed no further. We will adjourn at this point. The final verdict will be decided after a vote by the audience, followed by deliberation between the Elders and the judicial council."
He paused, then added flatly,
"Please understand that during both the vote and deliberation, the opinions of the Elders—who stand above the Arié judicial branch—will carry significant weight."
…What?
Then why even hold a trial?
As if voicing my thoughts for , Dickel shot to his feet.
"This is absurd! If you were going to twist the outco to your liking anyway, why hold a trial at all?! You should've just killed Hoaquin from the start!"
The Elders remained calm in the face of his furious protest—clearly accustod to hearing such objections.
"My, my, Dickel. You seem unusually agitated today," one of them said mildly.
"How fair do you think the audience's vote really is? And deliberation between the Elders and the judiciary has been our family's custom since ancient tis."
"And why should your will interfere at all?!" Dickel roared.
"Isn't this exactly how you killed my younger brother last ti?!"
The courtroom froze.
High-ranking Arie mbers in the gallery wore deeply uncomfortable expressions. The Elders' brows twitched.
With Maschenny's unexpected appearance already souring their mood, Dickel was clearly pushing them further.
"Arie Rom Dickel," an Elder snapped.
"You have crossed the line. To dredge up a matter decided over five thousand years ago—this is an insult to the judiciary and open defiance of us. Your punishnt will be discussed in the near future."
At a gesture from the Elders, several Arie Rankers guarding the court seized Dickel by both arms and dragged him outside.
Surprisingly, he didn't resist.
But just before being fully removed, he left them with one final line:
"You are not swords."
I didn't understand what he ant—but judging by the expressions on several Arie faces, it carried heavy aning.
Watching Dickel get dragged away, Schmitt let out a hollow laugh, muttering loudly enough for all to hear,
"Haha… just like last ti. Exactly the sa."
The Elders glared at him, but Schmitt only shrugged with a lazy grin and said nothing more.
Those two alone had frozen the atmosphere of the courtroom solid.
"Order," the judge announced.
"We will now conduct the vote regarding Hoaquin's punishnt. Those opposed, please stand. Those in favor, remain seated."
Out of all the Arie Rankers present, fewer than ten stood.
Schmitt looked more surprised than expected by the number who rose.
Maschenny, anwhile, seed disgusted that only that many had.
Once the vote concluded, the Elders and judges withdrew to deliberate.
The courtroom fell into a suffocating, awkward silence.
The Elders' authority remained absolute.
As many Arie Rankers sat with their eyes closed, deep in thought, the judges eventually returned. The presiding judge struck the gavel to draw attention.
"After fair and just deliberation with the Elders, we announce the verdict."
"Arie Hoaquin is hereby sentenced to life imprisonnt in the subrged prison, 'Turtle Castle.'"
The Elders erged behind the judge, walking leisurely.
Every Arie Ranker in the gallery stared at them in silence.
"Mm! Mmmph!!"
You insane bastards!
Then why the hell did you hold a trial?!
In the icy courtroom, I was the only one violently shaking my head, protesting as hard as I could.
Thanks to the damned muzzle, not a single word ca out.
As all attention shifted to , one of the Elders looked down calmly and spoke.
"Treason against the family is a grave sin. As soone who was once an Arie, you should understand that. Accept it."
That bastard—
Boom!
I slamd power into my legs and kicked off the floor as hard as I could, launching myself toward him.
I was done smiling through this.
With a life sentence declared, I had nothing left to lose.
"Seize him!"
RATTLE—!
THUD!
"…!"
I never reached the Elder.
The chains binding had already been anchored to the floor. When their length reached its limit, my leap ended abruptly, and I crashed back down.
"Stay still."
Three execution inspectors drew their swords, pressing the blades right up against my neck.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
The judge stared at in disbelief, wiped sweat from his brow, and announced,
"The verdict is life imprisonnt. The date of execution will be determined shortly. This concludes the family trial."
Bang. Bang. Bang.
As the gavel struck three tis, everyone present—even the judge himself—understood sothing instinctively.
This family was rotten.
And no one knew when they might be next.
Of course, the Elders paid it no mind at all. As always, they left the courtroom with calm, indifferent expressions.
That sight only made Maschenny grind her teeth harder.
Whether those n were rotten to the core had never really mattered to her. She didn't care.
But once Hoaquin was involved, it beca a completely different story.
"Honestly, little sister," the man beside her muttered, "even a neighborhood kids' court would've been fairer than that."
"So… is it really over?" Maschenny asked quietly.
"He'll be detained here again for now, then transferred to the underwater prison, Turtle Castle, before long. There's no overturning that decision. They even invoked Acting Family Head authority. Unless the Family Head himself steps in, nothing's changing."
After saying that, he glanced at Maschenny—and couldn't help but be startled.
He had never seen that look in her eyes before.
Is that… rage?
Maschenny? For soone other than herself?
He briefly wondered what could've happened to her while climbing the Tower—but it wasn't important now. Shaking the thought away, he turned his gaze back to Hoaquin.
What a sha. The mood wasn't bad at all… but the Elders noticed and forced the trial to end.
Watching Dickel get dragged out after his furious protest, and Schmitt slip in a few pointed remarks, he understood.
This was a strategy.
Maschenny may not realize it yet, but this trial was never winnable. Those two knew that.
Instead of winning the trial, they had tried to win politically—by turning the audience.
The problem was that the Elders sensed the shift in atmosphere early and struck first.
Such a waste… That talent is sothing you won't find even if you comb through the Tower's entire history. And yet, of all things, he caught the Elders' attention.
Now that the verdict had been handed down, there was nothing Maschenny—or he—could do.
They couldn't interfere directly in the affairs of the Arie main family.
As much as he regretted it, the boy nad Hoaquin was soone they would have to give up on.
If the trial hadn't ended here, there might've been a chance—but it was over.
While he was lost in thought, Maschenny stood there, staring fixedly at Hoaquin, frustrated with her own helplessness.
"…!"
Several execution inspectors finally approached Hoaquin, subduing him to escort him back to the underground prison.
In that mont, Maschenny's eyes t Hoaquin's.
He simply smiled at her with his eyes.
His mouth was hidden by the muzzle, but she could tell—he was saying sorry.
That he was fine.
That idiot… trying to reassure at a ti like this!
Instead of calming her, it snapped the last thread of her composure.
Did he have any idea how worried she was?
He'd told her everything was fine through the Pocket—and this was the result.
Maschenny watched with sharp, burning eyes until Hoaquin disappeared beyond the courtroom doors.
Then she turned sharply and started walking away.
"Maschenny, where are you going?"
"To my floating ship. I'm requesting his transfer into the army."
"What? Is that even possible?"
"He'll be struck from the Arie family registry and permanently bound to the royal family—but who cares? I'm pulling him out now."
"Haha… our little sister's really fallen hard for him, huh. But it's the Festival of the Sword right now. During the festival, no punishnts are carried out. Why not wait a little longer?"
Maschenny stopped mid-step and turned back.
"Why should I?"
"Because dragging a prisoner out of Arie custody will cause far more trouble than quietly slipping one out of a prison cell. And…" he added, tapping his temple, "my instincts are telling it's fine to stay a bit longer."
Logically speaking, he was right.
And once you reached a certain level of strength, instincts like that rarely failed—or so Maschenny vaguely recalled hearing sowhere.
She decided to trust his intuition.
Regaining so of her composure, she answered coldly and changed direction.
"…If nothing changes by the last day of the festival, I'm going straight to the royal family."
"Do as you like. I'll help."
....
One Week Later — Final Day of the Festival of the Sword
As expected, the crowds reached their peak.
Arie mbers returning to the main family after long absences.
Journalists covering the festival.
Corporate executives negotiating deals.
Commoners stretching their ans to give their families good mories.
And, as always, wealthy elites chasing pleasure and indulgence.
People of every background and race gathered together—the Festival of the Sword lived up to its na as the pinnacle of spectacle.
…Of course, none of that had anything to do with .
I was still rotting away in the underground prison.
Clink. Clank.
"…Haa."
I swung one arm uselessly. The chains rattled—but nothing happened.
Was I really going to spend the rest of my life like this?
One week.
No visitors.
Twenty-four hours a day, alone in this cell.
Back when my mind was shattered, I could go ten years without seeing anyone and be fine.
But now—now that I was sane—I'd learned how unbearable loneliness could be. I could barely endure even a week.
What happened to Father's trial anyway?
It'd been a while since I asked to take it—yet there was no response at all.
…Or maybe there was, and I just didn't know.
I can't just sit here waiting to be shipped off to Turtle Castle.
The thought I'd been suppressing for days finally crept out.
Escape.
Break out, find Father myself—or disappear again like before.
Turtle Castle was the Tower's largest prison, run by the Hendo Lok family.
Once inside, escape would be even harder.
Or… joining the Zahard Army wouldn't be bad either.
But if I did any of that, using the family's influence to search for my siblings would beco impossible.
That was why I'd stayed put until now.
But not anymore.
Sitting here wasn't going to make my family co to .
The family—and Father—were separate matters.
And it was ti I treated them that way.
To take Father's trial, I have to get out of here first.
That was my conclusion.
Kwaddeuk—
Devices from the Workshop, plastered all over the place to interfere with shinsu control, were embedded everywhere—but I ignored them all and pulled in the surrounding shinsu in massive quantities.
Looks like the execution unit thought this would be enough.
Against True Shinsu Flow, that was laughable.
Drrrrk—
The chains hanging from the ceiling began to groan as they were torn loose.
By now, the execution unit must've noticed.
Better make this quick.
Clang—!
At last, every chain binding my movents snapped, and I regained my freedom.
"Ugh… my whole body aches. Should've escaped sooner…"
Now all that's left is breaking these bars and getting out.
The chanical restraints, shackles, and chains still hanging off my body are annoying—but I can smash them all later.
The collar bomb already had its shinsu circuitry fried a long ti ago.
Shraaaak—
I focused shinsu into my hand, and a blade ford from pure shinsu appeared in my grip.
How long has it been since I last used this?
To claim complete freedom, I took my stance and raised the sword high.
Even I couldn't completely ignore the durability of these bars—I'd need to cut with everything I had.
I grounded my legs, tightened my wrists, and swung down with full force—
"…Huh?"
I snapped my head upward.
This feeling—!
Kwarrrrrm—!!
In that instant, an overwhelming white force surged down from the very top of the Tower, flooding all the way into this underground prison.
And I couldn't move at all.
There was no one in this main family who could withstand this power head-on and still move.
Because the source of that power was—
[My children within the main family, and all outsiders present.]
"…Father."
Arie Hon, one of the Ten Great Family Heads, had returned to the 100th Floor.
The telepathic voice, echoing as if it shook the entire city, made my body tremble under its sheer pressure.
Crushed beneath the torrent of his power, all I could do was listen.
Everyone else must've been the sa.
> [From this mont on, I will personally deliver my will.] [While I was gone, it seems many… interesting things occurred.] [I now speak to my son—called a traitor to the family—Arie Hoaquin.] [You said you wished to take my trial.] [I am now within my main family, at the highest floor of the White Blossom Sword Palace.] [Co.] [From that underground prison to the very top.] [The mont you reach , all your sins shall be erased.] [And I speak now to all others as well.] [You are given three choices.]
> [First—help Hoaquin reach .]
"Dickel, what are you going to do?"
"You really have to ask? Of course I'm helping that kid. Schmitt, you're coming too, right?"
"Obviously."
> [Second—aid the Elders and prevent Hoaquin from reaching .]
"What should we do?"
"It's obvious. We exist for the Elders—and we die for them. Nothing has changed."
"Understood."
> [Third—do nothing. Simply observe.]
> [Whichever you choose, no responsibility will be demanded.] [You may disobey your superiors.]
[Outsiders may interfere in family affairs.] [Any ans, any thod—everything is permitted.] [For this mont alone, all is allowed.]
"Oh? Maschenny, did you hear that? I told you—my instincts were tingling."
"Shut up. Let's move. To the White Blossom Sword Palace. To Hoaquin."
> [If anyone later attempts to hold you accountable, I will sever their head.] [Choose freely—Hoaquin, or the Elders.]
"HOAAQUIIIIIN! Your big brother's coming!!"
> [And to the Elders—my children who have long governed this family.] [You are forbidden from exercising direct physical force.] [If you do, this will end instantly.]
"…What's the plan?"
"We use the execution units. And every card we still have."
"…Haa… so it cos to this."
> [One final ti, Hoaquin—my son.]
"..."
> [Will you reach as a living being…] [Or as a corpse?] [I find myself quite curious.]
> [Then let us begin.] [I now comnce— The Trial of Arie Hon.]
The trial that would later be recorded in history as the largest ever—one in which Regulars, Rankers, and High Rankers all took part—
The conflict that history would co to call
"The Arie Main Family Civil War"—
Had just begun.
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