Chapter 189: Chapter 185 — Church
The Grand Southern Church stood at the center of the city beside a glinting golden statue of the Iron Father. The structure itself was shaped like a massive anvil, with an enormous hammer suspended above it.
A perfect representation of Ferran doctrine.
Strength through tempering.
Yet there was nothing holy about the atmosphere surrounding it. The closer they got, the larger the crowd became. People squeezed and shoved one another aside just to make room for the carriage.
The shouts grew louder. The insults harsher. The air heavier. By the time the carriage stopped before the church entrance, the crowd had become a roaring sea of voices. Boos and jeers erupted from every direction. Then, Garrick disembarked.
Thousands froze. No one spoke. It was as though every person present had just been plunged into icy water. People stiffened. Many found themselves struggling to breathe.
Garrick hadn’t spoken a single word, yet the message was clear.
Shut the hell up.
Zephyrion, Lumi, and the others disembarked shortly after. As they walked, despite the thousands gathered outside, only their footsteps seemed to echo. They entered the church.
The oppressive pressure vanished with their departure. Many released breaths they hadn’t realized they were holding. Before long, the shouting resumed. freewebnσvel.cѳm
Unfortunately, none of them would ever know just how close they had come to death.
...
The inner halls of the church were grand and beautiful. Golden light spilled across corridors lined with portraits of historic figures. Guards stood rigid along both sides, their eyes hollow and unmoving.
They continued deeper into the church. Eventually, they arrived before a large set of double doors and entered.
A massive circular hall came into view. Thousands occupied the surrounding stands overlooking the lower platform at its center. Ahead, Koran sat upon a throne alongside the other high priests of the church.
To one side sat Ingrid, Garaxe, and Tenius, along with the city lords who had come to attend.
Kastor was absent.
The atmosphere was less explosive than outside, yet even more oppressive. The moment they entered, every eye in the hall shifted towards them.
Whispers spread through the crowd. The weight of so many gazes seemed to settle upon their shoulders.
Zephyrion was unfazed. Lumi even more so. Tobias visibly tensed beneath the attention. Fiona wasn’t much better, though she lifted her chin and stubbornly held her ground. Kaiden attempted an air of confidence, but the slight tremor running through his arms betrayed him.
Garrick turned towards him. Zephyrion felt a barrier settle around them, isolating them from the rest of the hall.
"No matter what happens." Garrick’s expression was serious. "You don’t have to worry. They’ll bury me first before they take something from a Calderalth."
Then he turned and walked away without waiting for a response. There was a coldness to him, the coldness of a man already prepared for war.
Again, Zephyrion felt something genuine stir in his chest. He allowed none of it to reach his face and simply nodded to the others. Tobias, Fiona, and Kaiden left with Garrick to take their seats.
On the lower platform stood three podiums. Right. Middle. Left. The left was already occupied by priests clad in church robes. Lumi was ushered to the middle podium as the one on trial. After receiving a reassuring nod from Zephyrion, she stepped onto it.
Then Zephyrion took his place on the right.
The world gradually faded into silence as his mind settled.
A moment later, Koran rose, the crowd falling silent. His face remained expressionless, yet his eyes were happy, excited.
This entire affair was the Sarakhels’ attempt to remove Calderalth’s heir so they could move against House Calderalth. Finally, it was going to start. freewёbnoνel.com
"People of the South." Koran’s voice echoed through the hall. "Praise be to the Iron Father for granting us life and prosperity to this day. We have gathered here to witness the judgment of Lumi Ser Sarakhel. The Tribunal of Iron is a long-standing tradition of our Ferran Empire. It exists to ensure fairness in all matters of justice."
He spread his arms.
"Here, no single man shall judge. Instead, we leave judgment to the people themselves. We allow true justice to decide!"
"And so, I declare the start of the Tribunal of Iron—"
Creak.
Every eye snapped towards the opening door, where a man strode inside. Messy hair, an expression carved from ice. A heavy pressure settled across the hall, pressing down upon every soul present.
Ingrid’s eyes widened, Garaxe’s did as well. Koran’s eyes narrowed. Even Zephyrion frowned.
The Head of House Calderalth.
Kastor.
Without a word, Kastor ascended. An iron platform formed above Koran and the other priests. Then, calmly, he settled onto an iron-forged throne.
"Begin."
Koran’s expression because ugly. Zephyrion understood the look immediately. None of them had expected him to attend. And everything Kastor had just done sent a message to the entire South.
He stood above them all.
This was far more troublesome than one of Garrick’s insults. Kastor was the ruler of the South, and a member of the Ten Thrones. Anyone here who challenged him would be an ant challenging a dragon.
Still, the tribunal had already begun. The decision today lied not with one man, but the entire south. Koran slowly unclenched his jaw and gave a nod towards the priests occupying the left podium.
One of them immediately returned the gesture before rising to his feet. He was tall, lean but muscular. His black Ferran hair was cut short, and his sharp green eyes carried a stern, disciplined look.
Zephyrion’s conversation with Betty the previous night had granted him several important pieces of information. While Koran’s goal was undoubtedly to tarnish his reputation, he also had a secondary objective.
This priest was Koran’s son, the man chosen to represent the church and condemn Lumi. Using the tribunal, Koran intended to elevate his son’s name. To make him the man who had publicly crushed the Lightning Prince. To raise his standing. His fame.
To Zephyrion, however, he was merely retaliation.