Chapter Ninety: Trial by Combat (4300 words)
The waters of the Karlka River flowed, carrying headless corpses downstream. In the Knight Kingdom of Bartu, a bloody civil war had ended, with the respected king falling to his illegitimate son, his sword poisoned, leading to a mutual demise.
The knights of King Richard the Lionheart placed his body in a small boat, drifting downstream towards the lake in the forest, hoping the lake goddess would accept him.
Earlier, the imperial army was stationed in the central hills, executing strange orders to dig pits, chop down trees, and erect walls.
The Grand Preacher himself prayed day after day for the flagellants. At this point, the empire was rife with flagellants who had abandoned worldly matters, fervently believing in self-flagellation for redemption.
They believed the end of the world had come, that everyone would die, and only the merciful Sigma would grant them a chance at redemption if they were fervent enough and devout enough, so that after death, their souls would not fall into the hands of demons.
The scene was frantic; even though most soldiers under the emperor believed in the state religion, Sigma, they instinctively avoided these fanatics who disregarded life and death.
They were bare-chested, emaciated, their backs crisscrossed with whip marks.
“Faithful loyalty is the greatest reward!” the Grand Preacher chanted. “After our death, our souls will surely return to Sigma, reforged in thunder and lightning.”
A chorus of agreement rose from below.
Compared to the fervent agreement of the crowd, the Grand Preacher himself appeared distracted, his inner resolve wavering.
Rumors circulated within the army that the supplies for the imperial army would last only ten days. He knew this was a lie; they would last only five days, and after five days, the empty granaries would no longer be hidden from the people.
Since the fall of Talabek City, the horrific events there had spread among the imperial army through survivors, causing widespread panic.
The higher-ups were still arguing over whether to retreat or not, and he was undoubtedly among the retreat faction, convinced the imperial army must withdraw to protect Adolf. However, the emperor was captivated by the promise of the brave, believing that with Sigma’s blessing, this had to be the scheme of the Lord of Deception.
After the morning prayers, he hurried away, eager to join the others in the retreat faction. Despite their large numbers, they struggled to contend with the emperor.
After their discussions, they turned their gaze towards the wavering Hell Knights, whose stance was particularly important at this moment. Before they could invite the Hell Knights’ leader again, news of a meeting came from above.
The emperor, fully armored, leaned on the table with his iron hands, his expression tense. Beside him, the brave George had a grim face.
Many guessed what had transpired.
“Esteemed lords,” the emperor said, “After the demon army surrounded Nunn City, they turned and headed directly north, invading the Riek territory, aiming straight for the capital Adolf. This news is three days old.”
“Your Majesty should retreat; we cannot abandon the capital.”
“Even if the brave repels the cataclysmic army of the Eternal Chosen with unexpected tactics, so what? Adolf’s defenses are hollow.”
The emperor tightly gripped the wrinkled parchment map on the table, on which the cataclysmic army’s forces had spread into the Riek territory, reaching Adolf itself.
He raised his head, his brows knotted, and said, “No!”
“Your Majesty, even you cannot act unilaterally,” a general rose from the empire, and simultaneously, all those from the retreat faction stood up, collectively making up three-quarters of those present.
They were like mountains pressing upon the emperor’s heart, causing him great anxiety, the tension nearly snapping.
The emperor felt fear creep in; what if George was indeed wrong? If they gambled poorly this time, the empire would face certain extinction, that was undeniable. With supplies running low, another cataclysmic army was already approaching Adolf.
Retreating might still offer a glimmer of hope.
The emperor shut his eyes, envisioning the scene of failure: with no supplies, the imperial soldiers starving to death, and at the moment of their demise, they would raise their fingers at him, cursing him, also cursing themselves for not seeing through the emperor’s true nature.
The world before him had entirely darkened; he could hardly bear the pressure.
“Your Majesty.” The emperor opened his eyes to see the leader of the Hell Knights; was he also opposing him?
The old knight, silver-haired, nodded at the emperor:
“Your Majesty, allow me to bring you good news; our Grand Knight Irina has returned safely. She witnessed Demon King Jimar destroying four legions and possesses some irrefutable evidence.”
The emperor instinctively exchanged a glance with George. George had informed him that he had “colluded” with Demon King Jimar, going to assist in battle eight days ago. George’s blue eyes remained calm and unwavering.
But the emperor did not share his thoughts; he was weary. Some matters should remain off the table. If the other side presented any irrefutable evidence, the conservatives might very well abandon their loyalty to him.
The emperor himself had no absolutely unquestionable authority.
At that moment, he did not intend to insist any longer.
“Fine.”
“Please allow me to summon Grand Knight Irina, she has just arrived after a long journey.”
In a tent of the Hell Knights.
Heavily guarded, Grand Knight Irina was being protected due to concerns that someone might send assassins to kill her. There had already been several assassination attempts against the retreat faction, and they suspected George was one of the masterminds.
Grand Knight Irina did not wear a helmet; her mouth was concealed beneath her Gothic neck armor, her silver hair blowing as it evaporated moisture, her eyes fixed on the captured shadow crystal before her, projecting an image of George with a group of naked succubi charging into battle together.
If this image were made public, few would support a brave one fighting alongside demons.
“Grand Knight, the emperor summons you.”
“I’m coming.” Grand Knight Irina extended her hand, tightly holding the shadow crystal, donned her black helmet, raised her visor, and strode out of the tent.
On the way, she became lost in thought, pondering why she was able to observe the battle so easily. She had no doubts about her abilities, but it was too effortless…
There was only one explanation: it was intentional. She did not believe that Demon King Jimar was generous enough to allow her to observe and gather evidence.
So there was only one answer.
The face of George surfaced in Grand Knight Irina’s mind, righteous, idealistic, and proud—proud to the point of arrogance.
She let out a cold snort, her left hand gripping the shadow crystal tightly, her heart cold as ice.
After passing through magical inspection, as soon as Grand Knight Irina entered the royal tent, she raised her hand and pointed at George:
“I accuse George of colluding with Demon King Jimar. I saw with my own eyes him answering the call of Demon King Jimar, alongside Saint Jenna and a high elf archer, fighting with her evil, hideous demon army.”
She locked her gaze on George’s eyes, capturing the slightest hint of shock within, speaking each word deliberately:
“I witnessed him charging alongside the naked succubi.”
George’s previously impassive eyes finally showed some ripples that could be seen.
Grand Knight Irina enjoyed this moment, feeling immense joy. She hated all demons, regardless of whether the demon possessed terrible strategies or command abilities.
And George had no way to express his grievances.
“Is it true?”
The question came like lightning.
George opened his mouth to speak.
“I have evidence.” Grand Knight Irina raised her left hand, palm open, revealing a triangular shadow crystal: “I used this to capture your images.”
The emperor turned to look at George, only to see him shut his mouth tightly.
The retreat faction rejoiced, hastily saying, “Release it quickly.”
“Wait; we still need to take some necessary measures.” They warily glanced at George.
The leader of the Hell Knights stepped forward, interposing himself between George and the emperor, blocking any desperate actions he might take.
After a series of processing actions, the shadow crystal began to play.
George had repeatedly rehearsed his escape plan in his mind.
The shadow crystal started to play, the images projecting into the air for all to see.
A brave figure charging into the fray was visible…
Directly facing the stream, enduring the unclean liquid spewing from the defiler’s rear, thrusting a branch axe gun forcefully into it!
The faces of those present changed, some feeling nauseous, others tightening their legs.
The playback continued, revealing a ghastly scene. No matter how brave the warriors were, when facing the defilement, the moment was unbearable.
After a long silence, someone could no longer contain themselves and called out:
“What’s the evidence?”
“Right here,” Grand Knight Irina replied. “Look into my eyes, George.”
George looked at her and asked, “You welcome accusations against me, but I am not present in this battle.”
“Evidence is indisputable.” Grand Knight Irina affirmed, causing those watching to widen their eyes, gazing at what the bald warrior was doing amidst the chaos.
However, no one noticed any intricacies.
On the contrary, they sharply realized it was a terrifying battle of the few against the many. So many corpses lay on the ground, many trampled by one another, the soldiers broken, with no terrain to retreat.
Many imperial generals privately admired the commander orchestrating this battle.
George could not help but ask, “Where?”
Grand Knight Irina paused for a moment, pointing to the ground:
“The scorched corpses below.”
As soon as her voice fell, from the heavens, the fire god sprayed flames, engulfing the defilers’ carriers, leaving a heap of charred bodies on the ground. It seemed to explain the source of the scorched corpses.
The others looked at Grand Knight Irina with confused expressions.
Unexpectedly, she brazenly lied, “These scorched bodies on the ground were actually burned by Saint Irina using her terrible magic.”
In the video, the fire god spat flames again.
Many looked at Grand Knight Irina with skepticism, starting to ponder whether her mind had been corrupted.
“Enough.” The leader of the Hell Knights asked, “Is what she said true?”
“Silence him.” Grand Knight Irina glared at George with her milky-white cat-like eyes: “He has already fallen and can only weave a web of lies from fragmented truths.”
George protested, “This is slander; I have not fallen.”
“Is it not clear yet?” Grand Knight Irina responded: “Without evidence, do not slander the brave; step down.”
“No! I challenge him to a trial by combat!”
“This is an order!”
“I defy your command!”
The leader of the Hell Knights threatened, “If you persist stubbornly and fail, you will lose your position and become an ordinary knight.”
“Very well,” Grand Knight Irina coldly replied: “I believe the truth is on my side.”
“Brave one?”
Many looked at brave George; although Grand Knight Irina now seemed to be in the wrong, if he did not accept the trial by combat, everyone would deem him guilty by default.
“I am innocent; why should I fear the challenge?”
The onlookers became serious. Even if the instigator of the trial by combat seemed somewhat deranged, as long as he accepted the challenge, the outcome would be credible.
“There must be some trick up their sleeve.”
The two followed ancient and sacred rules in the duel arena.
Grand Knight Irina launched a fierce attack, her beauty starkly contrasting with her ferocity; she roared like a giant, engaging George in a life-and-death struggle. George showed no signs of letting up; he was giving his all and could not afford to lose.
In the end, he knocked Irina’s helmet off with a massive sword and brought her down to the ground. Just before she fell, Grand Knight Irina waved her right hand, scattering colorful crystal powder, seemingly intent on blinding George.
But she still lost.
As Grand Knight Irina fell back, the Hell Knights declared that she had lost her mental faculties and turned their support towards brave George, punishing Grand Knight Irina with a hundred lashes, the whip soaked in saltwater, stripping her of her position.
Back in the royal tent, the emperor did not expect events to conclude this way.
People conversed among themselves, fully believing that Grand Knight Irina had always been a fanatic, so consumed by her own delusions that she would ignore reality to smear brave George.
“Enough.” The emperor regained his confidence and asked, “Who else wants to accuse brave George of falling into depravity?”
Everyone exchanged glances, no longer as resolute. At this moment, stepping forward to accuse felt akin to being labeled insane like the former Grand Knight Irina.
Moreover, even former Grand Knight Irina had found no evidence. She had previously been regarded as the empire’s hound, employing deduction to uncover numerous underground cults.
“Then the misunderstanding is resolved.”
