The heavy doors of the chamber swung open. Every single pair of eyes moved towards King Sullivan who entered the room with long, steady strides. His gaze did not linger on anyone, not on Dukes or Counts or the sea of lower lords that filled the rows. He walked straight toward the seat that was specifically given to him. Knight Roderic followed closely at his side. At once, the hall rose to its feet. Benches creaked, robes rustled, boots scraped the stone. Every noble stood. Even Kai, seated in the isolated chair at the center of the floor, pushed himself up and bowed his head. It was the custom, the mark of respect due to the sovereign before whom the Assembly would be judged. The air was still until Sullivan reached his seat. He lowered himself into it with calm gravity, Roderic taking his place just behind. Only then did the King incline his head, a measured nod that swept the chamber. The nobles sat as one. Silence pressed over the room until Sullivan lifted his gaze. For the briefest moment, his eyes met Kai’s. There were no words that exchanged between them, but Kai understood acknowledgment. In less than a minute, King Sullivan’s voice filled the hall. “I know all of you have come here on very short notice.” He said it loud enough for everyone to hear. “But the matter before us could not wait. It demands the attention of every noble in the kingdom.” The rows murmured faintly before they stopped. “This Assembly is not only about war,” King Sullivan continued. “But about a man. A man with achievements none can deny, and a man who bears the title of kin-killer.” The words hung heavy. “As you all know, fief wars are a rare event. Rarer, even, than the beast waves that sometimes plague our borders. Most such conflicts have ended with an Assembly one, though it has been decades since the last. Many of you here have never seen one convened in your lifetime.” Across the chamber, a few heads dipped in agreement. More than half of the old lords nodded gravely, while younger nobles shifted uneasily in their seats. King Sullivan’s gaze swept the rows, unhurried, as though weighing each face before him. Then he spoke again. “I will be presiding over this Assembly. And while I do, there will be order. There will be decorum.” His gruff voice sharpened, and Kai saw the effect immediately. Some nobles straightened unconsciously. “Every man and woman here holds one vote. But before those votes are cast, we will hear, and we will discuss, every matter that brought us to this moment.” The chamber fell still. “If you have anything to say, whether in support of Count Arzan Kellius or against him, you will raise your hand, state your title and house, and then speak. No one will speak over another. We are all nobles, and we will act as civilized people.” His eyes swept the chamber once more, then fixed on the upper stands. “Count Pious. You may begin by speaking on why this Assembly has been called.” An old man in the higher seats rose at once, his back still straight despite the years weighing on him. He inclined his head toward the King. “As you wish, Your Majesty.” Turning, his gaze moved across the chamber, pausing briefly on the younger nobles before he began. “Many of you already know the details,” Count Pious said, his voice gravelly but carrying well, “but there are some who do not. It was only a few months ago that the late Duke Lucian Kellius leveled accusations against his brother, Count Arzan Kellius.” Lucian’s name stirred commotion. But Count Pious ignored it and continued. “The charges were grace. He claimed that Count Arzan had sides with dark powers, after a village under Baron Idrin’s territory was burned to the ground. The only survivor, a man by the name of Alaric, swore that the perpetrators took Count Arzan’s name—that he was the one behind it.” The words struck like stones dropped into water. A ripple of gasps rolled through the chamber despite most knowing the events by now. Pious let the reaction settle before continuing. “Baron Idrin brought the matter directly to Duke Lucian, who wasted no time. He declared his brother lost to corruption, claiming he had allied himself with demonic powers, with blood drinkers.” The phrase blood drinkers caused more shifts. Kai knew the tide wasn’t turning to his side. But he let the man continue. “The Duke raised his banners. War was declared.” Pious’s voice deepened. “Count Arzan rejected the accusations, declared his innocence, and yet the fief war was fought. Men fell. Blood stained the Sylvan Enclave. All but one noble in the region raised their banners for the Duke.” Every head turned instinctively toward the cluster of lesser lords seated low in the stands. The weight of gazes pressed heavy on them, some looking down, some fidgeting, some stiff with shame. Only Baron Buck kept his chin up, his eyes forward, the resignation in his bearing plain to all. Count Pious pressed on. “Despite being outnumbered, Count Arzan stood victorious in that fief war. Yet,” he paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, “as every noble here knows—ordinarily, in matters of fief wars, one cannot slay the other party. That is the custom of our realm, the bond of our laws.” “After all, we are nobles of the same kingdom, sons of the same soil. But not only was Duke Lucian defeated, he was slain. And not by foreign hand or faceless foe, but by his own brother. That makes him a kin killer. This Assembly has been called to decide whether his actions were just or unjust, and if the latter, what punishment shall be delivered upon him by the judgment of the nobles gathered here.” A murmur swept the hall, some nodding along, others frowning. Pious raised his hand, stilling the noise. “I remind you all,” he continued, “that this judgment will be given without heed to the status of Arzan Kellius, nor to his magical powers. We are here to judge the deed, not the strength.” Several nobles nodded gravely at that. Even as the words echoed, he knew them for what they were—ceremony. Nothing more. Humans could not separate status from judgment, nor power from perception. They would all say so, but in the end, every glance, every vote, every whisper would weigh his strength, his deeds, and the fear or respect they inspired. Still, the hall was watching him. Count Pious lowered himself back into his seat, and dozens of noble eyes turned toward the lone chair in the center. Expectation pressed down on him like a stone. Kai rose slowly, standing straight. He let his gaze sweep across the chamber, the higher rows and the lower, the countless faces fixed on him. Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by novel⦿fire.net “First of all,” he said in a clear voice. “thank you for coming here. All of you. I know it was no easy journey to reach the capital at such short notice. This Assembly was as unexpected to me as it was to you.” His eyes shifted toward Count Pious. “And I would also like to thank Count Pious for recounting the events that transpired. But…” his tone sharpened slightly, “I must correct some parts of it. For I believe the Count has left out much that would make me appear guilty of things I have not done.” Chairs creaked as nobles leaned forward. Count Pious rose at once, his lined face stern. “And what would those be, Count Arzan?” The chamber stilled again, every eye flicking between the two men. Kai let his voice cut through the stillness. “First of all—the village that was burned, and the villagers who died—it was not by my hand.” A ripple of noise broke out across the benches, and from the lower stands, a man rose quickly, his cloak swishing behind him. “I am Baron Aldred of House Calthorn” he declared. “I know well that you and Baron Idrin have had clashes over territory for some time now. Does that not give you enough reason to go against him?” Kai’s gaze flicked toward him, and he stayed as calm as he could. “Then tell me, why would I burn the village?” The baron’s lips curled. “Maybe a warning, or a threat. Is it not true that, only days before the massacre, your men clashed with Baron Idrin’s?” Kai’s brow furrowed faintly. He’s too well informed. The man’s words carried detail only someone with backing would have. It took no more than a breath for Kai to place him—one of the First Prince’s men. A planted spear meant to strike at his side. “It was a small matter,” Kai said evenly, his tone dismissive. Then he let his gaze sweep the chamber. “And more than that, you are trying to suggest that I and Baron Idrin have had a long-running feud. That is not true. The one who had constant clashes with him was Baron Morcant, whose territory is under me now. I only became aware of the problem when Baron Idrin struck at the village in the disputed lands. There is no reason, none, to think I had a hand in the massacre.” Count Pious rose again. “Then who did?” Kai’s eyes practically shone at the question—he in fact, was waiting for it. “That is an interesting question. Why don’t we let Baron Idrin answer it? He is here, after all.” Every head turned at once. The weight of the hall descended on the man seated in the lower stands. Baron Idrin swallowed hard, his hands gripping the edge of his seat until his knuckles whitened. Slowly, shakily, he pushed himself to his feet. Dozens of gazes bore into him. His eyes darted toward Kai, pleading, as if begging for reprieve. But under the pressure of the chamber, he forced the words out, his voice trembling. “I… I am Baron Idrin of House Grevane.” His throat bobbed. “And Count Arzan is right. He was not the man behind the massacre of that village.” Gasps rolled through the chamber, louder this time, followed by a heavy, stretching silence. “What did he just say?” “Baron Idrin is speaking about—” Whispers rose like a tide, rippling through the chamber at Baron Idrin’s words. Hands covered mouths, heads bent toward neighbors, the sound swelling louder with every passing moment. “Silence!” King Sullivan’s voice cracked across the hall, sharp as a whip. “Let the Baron speak.” All noise died at once. Baron Idrin swallowed, his face pale and damp with sweat. His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the stand before him. “We… we had a confrontation with Count Arzan,” he admitted at once, “but it was all part of the late Duke Lucian’s plan to instigate a fief war.” He pressed on, his words spilling faster, as though afraid he might lose the strength to say them. “The massacre was planned as well. Planned by him to frame Count Arzan… to sully his growing reputation after the beast wave subjugation. I went along with it because he promised me more. A higher noble rank, once he had taken the Sylvan Enclave for himself.” His voice cracked then, breaking into a tremble. “I… I wanted to expand my territory for my family. So I did it…” The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by a few hushed whispers that darted like snakes through the chamber. Kai immediately looked at Count Pious’s face. It was ashen. His eyes had widened in disbelief, and dozens of nobles mirrored him—shock plain on their faces. Only Regina, seated high with Eldric, and Prince Eldric sat unmoved. They looked unusually steady, as though the revelation was no surprise to them, as though they’d expected it. Sullivan’s gaze bore down on Idrin, heavy as stone. “Baron Idrin,” the King said coldly, “if what you speak is true, you have admitted your own involvement in the murder of innocents.” Idrin’s shoulders sagged. He bowed his head, voice breaking. “I was part of it, Your Majesty… but it was all Duke Lucian. Please believe me.” The King gave him nothing but a glare, his face unreadable. Before the weight of it could settle further, Count Pious rose sharply, his robes swaying. “Are we certain Baron Idrin does not speak under duress? What proof do we have he is not saying this because of threats Count Arzan may have dealt him?” A murmur of agreement spread. “He was kept under Arzan’s custody…” “Not permitted to leave…” Pious pressed harder, his voice carrying across the nodding heads. “From what we know, Baron Idrin and the others were treated as refugees in his territory—kept there, not free to come or go. Who among us can say what pressure may have been applied to bend their words?” Eyes shifted, some doubtful, some considering, more and more heads nodding slowly. The Assembly was split again. Kai’s voice rang out before Sullivan could speak again. “They were not being kept like refugees,” he said evenly, his gaze fixed on Count Pious. “Refugees live in tents. These men were given chambers in my estate, rooms to sleep in, meals prepared each day. And though every one of them acted against me, raised steel against my people in the fief war, I kept them alive. They lost. It was only natural for me to hold them afterward.” Count Pious narrowed his eyes. “That does not explain why you could not have threatened Baron Idrin.” Kai let the faintest smile touch his lips. “Isn’t it simple? Because I am not an idiot. We stand in the Assembly of Judgment, with every noble of the kingdom present. What threat could I give him that would matter here? If I had tried, Baron Idrin could have spoken against me at once. And not only him, the other three nobles as well. They sit here now. Each one could easily confirm if I had forced words into his mouth.” Another pregnant silence took over the Assembly. The heat was only getting started when one of the captured nobles stood. “I am Viscount Buck, of House Dorn.” He inclined his head toward the King, then turned toward the chamber. “And I can agree with Count Arzan’s words. Though he demanded reparations from us—which is fair and expected after raising arms against him—he treated us with respect. He even allowed our kin to continue handling our territories, instead of seizing them all for himself. He could have, but he didn’t.” Count Pious’s voice snapped back like a lash. “That does not mean he could not have threatened Baron Idrin.” Viscount Buck met his gaze without flinching. “With respect, Count Pious, I doubt it. From what I have seen, Count Arzan knew full well that Baron Idrin was behind the massacre of his own village. He could have killed him easily because Baron Idrin himself struck at Verdis. In battle, anything can happen. A blade can slip, an arrow can fly astray. It would have been easy for Count Arzan to dispose of him then and weave any story he wished afterward.” He paused, letting the words hang, then added firmly: “But he did not.” The murmur in the chamber swelled louder, nobles leaning into one another, their whispers running quick and sharp. Pious’s lips tightened, his jaw clenching, but his reply did not come at once. Even from his place at the center of the chamber, Kai could see it—the Assembly was shifting. “Only Baron Idrin and Count Arzan know what happened,” Viscount Buck finished, his voice steady, “but I do not believe Count Arzan would do such a thing.” The Assembly broke into low murmurs, a dozen quiet voices running over one another like a restless tide. King Sullivan raised a hand, his voice cutting sharp and firm. “Baron Idrin. Can you swear that what you have said is the truth, and that you have not been threatened to speak it aloud?” Every gaze in the hall turned back to Idrin. The man swallowed hard, then bowed his head low. “I swear it,” he said hoarsely. “By my house. I have spoken of my own volition. I do so because I know my actions have already threatened the very existence of my house. I only pray that Your Majesty will punish me for my crimes… and not those who bear my name.” The chamber was silent again. King Sullivan did not answer, his face unreadable, only his hard gaze weighing Idrin down. Kai braced himself, expecting another noble to rise and throw the next accusation at him. But what happened instead froze the chamber. From the upper stands, silks shifting as she rose, Queen Regina stood, and when she did, everyone held their breaths. Kai’s thoughts ran a mile as he went through every possible question she would throw at him. He tried to calm his breathing, but when her gaze fixed on him, he almost forgot everything. “I am Queen Regina,” she said, her words measured, “Queen of Lancephil.” Her eyes did not waver as she looked down on him. “Let us say Duke Lucian was indeed the one who instigated the fief war. Even so—even for villains—if they are nobles, there is no right for one of us to kill them. Should not a victorious lord bring his enemy here, to the capital, and have him confess before crown and Assembly? Instead, you killed him, Count Arzan. Tell me—is that not a grave crime? Not only the slaying of a noble… but of your own blood?” Kai had expected this moment. From the very first day he had learned what the Assembly was, he had known this question would come. He had thought on it endlessly, trying to craft an answer that could hold weight. In the end, only one answer felt true. He stood, his back straight, his voice carrying clear and firm across the hall. “First of all,” Kai said, his gaze unwavering, “I did not kill him.” A ripple of whispers stirred, but he lifted a hand slightly, stilling them with the steel in his eyes. “Second.” He glared at her. “Even if I had… I do not believe I did anything wrong.” Gasps broke across the chamber. Some nobles recoiled, others froze, a few leaned forward with sudden, burning interest. All of them hung on his next words. A/N - You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my . Annual subscription is now on too. Read 15 chapters ahead HERE. Join the discord server HERE. Book 2 is officially launched! If you’re on Kindle Unlimited, you can read it for free—and even if you’re not buying, a quick rating helps more than you think. Also, it's free to rate and please download the book if you have Kindle unlimited. It helps with algorithm.