Chapter 66: Accusations Born from Taboo
“Everyone, look!”
Ardur’s finger pointed at Sean in the crowd like a sword, the magic power gathered at his fingertip drawing a dazzling purple light through the air. His voice boomed like thunder.
“The real cultist is hiding among us!”
The entire trial court fell into dead silence, then erupted in deafening uproar. The audience scrambled backward like startled birds, frantically pushing chairs aside. A noblewoman’s dress was stepped on, producing a piercing scream; a nearby merchant knocked over his wine cup, the deep red liquid spreading across the floor like blood.
In an instant, no one remained within three meters of Sean. He sat alone on the empty viewing platform, moonlight streaming through the dome’s stained glass, casting mottled shadows at his feet.
Cynthia’s pupils contracted sharply, her slender fingers gripping the trial platform’s edge so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Her sleepless conjectures from the night before were confirmed in this moment—Ardur’s carefully designed trap targeted not only her, but had calculated Sean into it as well.
The Saint’s gaze swept across Ardur’s smug profile, then fell on the isolated and helpless Sean. Her chest felt as if gripped by an invisible hand. This sinister plan had unknowingly made them into swords thrust at each other.
“How… despicable…”
She bit her lower lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood.
“Heh heh.”
Just then, a low chuckle broke the trial court’s silence. It began as light “heh heh” sounds, gradually growing louder until it became hearty laughter.
Sean’s movement removing his hood was as elegant as if attending a banquet. As the fabric fell away, a breathtakingly handsome face was revealed to all.
He had the gentle contours typical of Easterners, jet-black hair that gleamed like silk in the light, sword-like brows over smiling peach blossom eyes with slightly upturned corners carrying lazy charm. Below his straight nose, thin lips curved in a roguish arc. Most striking was his porcelain-white skin, almost translucent in the moonlight, forming a sharp contrast with the deep features of the Westerners around him.
“My god… he’s so handsome…”
A young woman in the audience unconsciously covered her mouth, her cheeks flushing.
“Shut up! Don’t forget he’s a cultist!”
Her companion pinched her hard.
Ardur’s face instantly darkened like storm clouds, his mouth twitching unnaturally. He suddenly stepped forward, his black boots hitting the marble floor with a dull “thud.”
“What are you laughing at?”
His voice seemed squeezed through gritted teeth, his right hand unconsciously pressing on his sword hilt.
“Is it because you’re speechless and can only use this crude method to mask your guilty conscience?”
Sean elegantly wiped away tears of laughter, the motion making the silver chain on his wrist chime crisply. He tilted his head, black hair sliding over his shoulder, gleaming blue in the light.
“Mr. Ardur, just like this carefully orchestrated performance of yours…”
His voice was as pleasant as a clear spring, yet carried undeniable sharpness. He deliberately drew out the ending, his gaze sweeping the entire venue before settling on Ardur’s iron-gray face.
“Since you accuse me of being an Ouroboros Cult cultist… then where’s the evidence?”
Sean slowly spread his hands in an innocent gesture.
“Hmph.”
Ardur’s nostrils flared with a disdainful snort. He sharply swept open his cloak and pulled a magic stone glowing with ethereal blue light from his chest. When his magic power flowed into it, the stone hummed softly, then projected a clear image in the air.
In the holographic image, Cynthia stood covered in blood in the center of a beast horde. Her crimson saint’s robe was in tatters, golden hair soaked with sweat and plastered to her pale cheeks. In the image, her hands trembled, unable to even condense the most basic fireball spell—clearly she had reached the point of magical exhaustion.
“Look clearly!”
Ardur shouted sternly, his finger trembling as it pointed at the image. In the scene, Sean suddenly rushed into the battlefield, his hands gently grasping Cynthia’s wrists. The moment they made contact, Cynthia’s body suddenly erupted with brilliant magical radiance, crimson flames sweeping across the entire battlefield like ocean waves, burning the magical beasts to ash.
The trial court instantly exploded. The mages in the audience all gasped in unison, several even unconsciously standing up.
“Everyone, please see! This is the legendary mental soothing ability user!”
Ardur seized the opportunity to raise his voice, his tone trembling with excitement as he spun around, his cloak cutting a sharp arc through the air.
“As everyone knows, magic is the goddess’s gift to us, but to prevent humans from abusing this power, the goddess set limits on mental strength!”
He dramatically knelt on one knee, right hand on his chest, putting on an anguished expression before suddenly looking up, his eyes flashing with fanatical light.
“Yet this man can break the goddess’s commandments! He allows mages to squander magical power without limit! What blasphemy this is! This is naked betrayal of the goddess!”
The discussion in the audience grew louder. Several elderly mages whispered to each other, their faces full of fear. An old woman in a deep blue robe pointed at Sean with a trembling finger.
“This… this is indeed forbidden arts!”
“The Radiant Cathedral classified this ability as taboo hundreds of years ago!”
Ardur watched the crowd’s reaction with satisfaction. He elegantly stood up, straightened his collar, then suddenly raised his voice, finger pointing directly at Sean.
“And he is an unquestionable cultist! An accomplice of the Ouroboros Cult!”
As Ardur’s final word fell, the entire trial court’s atmosphere instantly froze. All eyes focused on Sean—those gazes held fear, disgust, and deep wariness. Several guards had unconsciously gripped their weapons, ready to pounce at any moment.
Cynthia’s face turned deathly pale. She saw Sean still standing in place, that infuriating smile still on his lips, as if completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere around him. Her heart suddenly clenched, an unprecedented fear seizing her breath.
“Silence!”
Cynthia couldn’t help but step forward, the heavy magic-restraining shackles making harsh clanking sounds with her movement. Her voice trembled with urgency, slender fingers gripping the trial platform’s edge so tightly her knuckles went white.
“Sean isn’t some mental soothing ability user at all! That was just… just ordinary magical resonance!”
“Oh? Our Lady Saint seems quite… anxious.”
Ardur’s mouth curved in a playful smile, elegantly rotating his wrist as if handling a delicate art piece. He drew out his tone, his eyes flashing with malicious light as he suddenly leaned forward, brown bangs falling from his forehead.
“So eager to protect your ‘partner’?”
Before the words finished, he straightened up with feigned surprise, slender fingers lightly tapping his chin.
“Wait… looking at you like this…”
Ardur’s gaze swept back and forth between Cynthia’s flushed cheeks and clenched hands. He suddenly raised his voice, full of mockery.
“Don’t tell me… your relationship isn’t just ‘partners’? Could it be that our noble Lady Saint and this heretic… are sleeping together?”