Naofumi's POV:~
The court was silent again, but the tension was electric. This wasn't the plan. The Shield Hero was supposed to be marked. Not the Prince. Myne, kneeling there, physically healed but mentally shattered, marked, was living proof of how fundamentally I had derailed their little game.
The King looked from Myne, now kneeling, marked, and trembling, to me, standing beside Naomi, who still clutched my arm. "Alright," the King said, his voice calm, his decision made. He wasn't going to use this tool on Naomi. He wasn't going to trust his son over a stranger... not without proof. And he clearly wasn't going to trust his wife's judgment. "I'll give you the job of asking questions," he stated, looking directly at me. Myne, the accuser, the villain, was now the accused, the tool. And I, the Shield Hero, the one he had tried to destroy, was now his interrogator. "You can ask him whichever question you want from him."
The power had shifted completely. The tool of oppression was now turned upon its wielder. The trial wasn't about proving Naomi's innocence anymore. It was about exposing Myne's guilt. And I held the leash. A grim satisfaction spread through me. My rage had a purpose. My power had a target. And Myne... Myne was finally going to pay. I tightened my grip on Naomi's hand, feeling her trembling stop, replaced by a quiet, trusting stillness. She was safe. And Myne was utterly, irrevocably mine.
"Stop, you all cannot do this to Myne!" A voice cut through the silence. Motoyasu. The Spear Hero of this world. He stood forward from the group of heroes, his face contorted in outrage, pointing at Myne.
The King's gaze shifted to him. "Who is this girl?" the King said, dismissing him entirely, "How dare she interrupt?"
"She is the Spear Hero," the Queen spat out, her voice laced with venom.
"Whoever she is," the King stated flatly, his eyes returning to me, ignoring Motoyasu completely, "she has no right to speak in the middle of these matters!" My own conversation with the King, disrespect included, apparently held more weight than the protests of his own summoned heroes. The irony.
Motoyasu looked stunned, then furious, but before he could retort, Myne, kneeling there, managed to speak through his terror. "Don't worry, Motoyasu," he rasped, his voice trembling. "I will show everyone here that I am right." Pathetic. He still thought he could lie his way out of this.
"Alright then," Ren, the Sword Hero, spoke up, her voice calm but sharp. She wasn't happy with the King dismissing Motoyasu, or with my presence. "Tell me something, King, what right does that handsome stranger have to speak to you in a loud voice?"
Handsome? My internal monologue choked on that one. From what angle do I look handsome? After weeks of being covered in dirt, sleeping rough, dealing with cosmic horrors, and currently plotting torture? Ren's standards must be seriously messed up in this universe too.
The King's gaze snapped to Ren. A cold glare. "You will not decide this!" he stated, his voice hard. Ren fell silent, though her expression remained sharp.
There is logic in what the Sword Hero said. I have been speaking disrespectfully to the king for so long, but the king is not saying anything to me, and when those two said a little something, the king shut them up. My immunity wasn't just the Shield, or the buffs. It was also the power I had demonstrated. I held the key to exposing his family, and the King, for all his authority, needed me for that.
"So, may I start the interrogation?" I asked, my voice returning to a calm, interrogative tone, ignoring the other heroes' interjections, ignoring the 'handsome' comment.
The king affirmed with a curt nod.
Alright then. Time to unravel his lies. Piece by piece.
"Alright then, Myne," I began, addressing the figure kneeling before me, whose face was a mask of terror, sweat beading on his forehead. "You said that the Shield Hero asked you to drink wine, is that true?" A simple question. The foundation of his public accusation.
He thought for a moment, the slave mark on his chest pulsing faintly. He was trying to construct a lie that the mark wouldn't immediately reject. "It's not that," he stammered, his voice hoarse. "What I said was that it was Naofumi who ordered."
Twisting words. Classic. He wasn't saying Naomi asked him to drink, but that she ordered it. Subtle, pathetic. "Ordered what?" I pressed.
"She was the one who gave the order."
Why is he twisting things so much? Never mind, let's ask a direct question. No room for interpretation.
"You mean the Shield Hero ordered the wine?" I asked, simplifying it.
"Actually, she gave the order," he insisted, trying to cling to the sliver of truth that an order was given, "and wine was included in it too."
"Perhaps you didn't hear correctly," I said, my voice flat, utterly unimpressed by his pathetic attempts. "I asked who ordered the wine. As in, who specifically requested the wine from the server."
"It was ordered with the food," he said, evading again.
"So you didn't order the wine?"
"The wine was ordered with the food and the order was given by Naofumi-" he was saying, trying to shove the blame back onto her again, but before he could complete his sentence, before the slave mark could even decide if his convoluted lie counted, I teleported.
One second, I was standing by Naomi. The next, I was kneeling right beside Myne. The teleportation was instantaneous, soundless.
Thud.
I gave him a sharp kick to the ribs. Not a brutal, bone-breaking kick. Just a hard, punishing one. Enough to make him gasp, to remind him of who was in control, to shut down his pathetic word games.
"How dare you hit Myne!" the Queen shrieked, rising from her throne again, her face contorted in outrage.
"Calm down," the King said, his voice sharp, silencing her. He looked from Myne, gasping on the ground, to me, kneeling beside him. "What he did was right." He sided with me. "Hey Myne, just answer what you are being asked. Did you order the wine or not?"
Myne, trembling, looked from the King to me, to the slave mark pulsing on his chest. He knew he had to answer. He knew he couldn't lie.
"Yes," he said, the word a pained whisper, admitting he ordered it.
"And Naofumi didn't order the wine?" I asked, pressing the point.
He hesitated for a fraction of a second. The slave mark pulsed slightly. He was trying to lie, or perhaps just evade the full truth. "He did," he said, trying to implicate her.
"See, Naofumi also ordered the wine," the Queen jumped in, seizing on his words, her voice triumphant.
"Oh, really," I said, turning back to Myne. Time to use the slave mark directly on the core lie. "Alright then, answer this question of mine with only a yes or no." I stared into his terrified eyes. "Did Naofumi order wine with the food?"
He froze. The slave mark on his chest began to glow brightly, pulsing with increasing speed. He couldn't say yes if she didn't. He couldn't say no without admitting his lie. His body tensed, his face contorted in pain as the mark reacted, punishing his attempted deceit or evasion.
"Answer, Myne," the King said, his voice firm.
"Answer, Myne," I said, my voice calm, relentless. "Did the Shield Hero order wine with the food?"
His body spasmed. A cry tore from his throat. "No, no," he whimpered, the truth being forced out of him by the mark's agony. "He didn't." The mark stopped hurting. The glow faded.
Everyone started talking. Loudly. Whispering turning to exclamations of shock.
"What is happening?"
"The slave mark reacted once and didn't the second time?"
"The Prince... he lied!"
"Naofumi," I said, turning to the woman beside me, whose hand was still clutching mine, whose eyes were wide with shock and confusion at the scene, "can you tell me what happened at that time? About the wine order?"
She looked at me, then at the murmuring crowd, then back at Myne, who was staring at the ground, defeated. She seemed to gather herself.
"He asked me what I would order," she explained, her voice quiet but clear, carrying over the din. "I said I didn't know, so he told me what to order. When the waiter came, I placed the order." Her version. Simple. Consistent.
"Is this true?" I asked Myne, looking at him.
Myne flinched under my gaze, then under the faint throb of the slave mark, which seemed to anticipate his resistance. "... Yes," he said, the word forced out. "It is true."
Everyone started murmuring again, louder this time. The nuance was clear now. She ordered the wine because he told her to. His lie was unraveling. That's why the slave mark wasn't reacting when she spoke – because the order was given by the Shield Hero. But it reacted on Myne because he was twisting the truth of his role in directing the order and placing blame on her.
"Next question," I pressed, not giving him a chance to breathe, moving on to the next part of his public accusation. "Did Naofumi say that the night is still young?" The seductive line he'd attributed to her.
Myne froze again. The slave mark remained silent. He had realized. My tactic wasn't about whether a command was given, but about who initiated the action or the lie. His trick won't work again.
"He said..." he started, trying to use his previous evasion tactic.
"Myne, give a complete answer," the King's voice was stern.
"You can answer with just yes or no if you want," I interjected, simplifying it, forcing a clear confession.
"I ask again," I looked at him, my voice cold, relentless, "did Naofumi say that the night is still young?"
Myne's body tensed. The slave mark pulsed faintly, threatening. "... No..." he choked out, the truth forced from him.
"Then who said that?" I demanded.
His body convulsed. The mark flared brightly. "It was me..." he cried out, the full confession ripped from him by the mark's agony.
Everyone was surprised after hearing that. Gasps rippled through the hall. The charming Lord Myne, the golden hero candidate, was the one saying suggestive lines? Not the Shield Hero?
I didn't wait. The momentum was mine. I kept asking. Rapid-fire questions, dismantling every single accusation he had made publicly. The false charges of theft, the fabricated story of the inn incident, the slanders against her character. Five minutes later, Myne was a whimpering mess on his knees, forced by the slave mark to admit lie after lie, revealing his entire scheme piece by agonizing piece. His face was pale, sweat drenched, eyes wide with terror, fixed on me.
"Alright Naofumi," I said, turning back to the woman beside me, her hand still holding mine, her eyes wide with shock and relief. Time for the core of it. The worst part. "Tell me what happened in the room at that time." The night of the betrayal.
She looked at me, she was still sobbing, quiet tears streaming down her face, the memory clearly agonizing. She hesitated, gathering her courage.
"At night," she began, her voice small but steady, forcing the words out, "he came to my room-"
"Stop, she is definitely lying," the Queen shrieked, her face a mask of desperation, trying to shut down the testimony before the worst was revealed.
"You will not decide that," I said, cutting her off, my voice sharp. I looked at Myne. "Myne, is this true? Did you go to her room that night?"
"... Yes..." he choked out, the mark glowing.
"Alright Naofumi, continue," the King said, his voice grim.
"He... he said that he had never slept outside his palace and that's why he was scared to sleep alone," she continued, forcing the words out, reliving the horror. "I said that I would sleep downstairs and he could sleep upstairs... And... he said that both of us should sleep upstairs-"
"Stop," I interrupted, needing the specifics confirmed, needing his complicity undeniable. "Myne, is what she is saying correct? Did you propose you both sleep upstairs?"
Myne convulsed, whimpering, trying to resist, but the mark was absolute. "... Yes..." he sobbed, the truth ripped from his soul.
Silence. A heavy, horrified silence fell over the court. Everyone understood the implication. Myne wasn't scared. He was making a calculated move.
"Alright, so the next question," the King's voice was cold now, devoid of any warmth towards his son. He looked at Myne. "Did Naofumi seduce you? Answer with only yes or no," the king asked him.
Myne froze. Utterly. The slave mark on his chest pulsed furiously, burning brightly. He couldn't say yes – it was a lie, the mark wouldn't allow it. He couldn't say no – it would expose him completely. He just... locked up. Convulsing, whimpering, but silent.
"Answer, Myne!!!" the King roared, his voice cracking with fury and frustration.
"Answer, Myne," I said, my voice low, relentless. "Did the Shield Hero seduce you?"
Still nothing. The mark punishing his inability to answer, to either confess or maintain the lie.
"Alright, next question," the King said, seeing his son's utter failure to answer. He changed the question, going for the core action. "Did you try to take advantage of her? Answer with only yes or no," the king further asked.
Myne's body seized up again. He was trapped. The mark wouldn't let him say no. He couldn't bring himself to say yes. He just hung there, trembling, silent, the mark a pulsing brand of his guilt.
"..."
"Alright," the King said, his voice grim. "I have got the answer to my question." Myne's silence, his inability to answer under the slave mark, was the loudest confession of all.
The King looked from Myne to me, to Naomi. The trial, the public exposure of his son's depravity, was complete. Now, for the verdict.
"Shield Hero," the King addressed Naomi, his voice softer now, acknowledging her status, her suffering. "What do you want? What should be done with Myne?"
Putting the decision in her hands. After everything Myne had done to her, to Raphtalia, to her life. He was giving her the power to decide his fate.
"I-" she started, her voice small, looking at Myne, then back at me.
"Huh? Why are you asking the Shield Hero about this?" I interrupted, stepping forward slightly, my own anger flaring anew. This wasn't about her personal revenge. This was about justice. Systemic justice. "Shouldn't Myne face what the law dictates?" Myne was a prince, a hero candidate. His crimes were treason, attempted rape, murder (of Raphtalia), public deception. The law should handle this. "Come to think of it, Myne should get an even greater punishment because he did something like this to a hero." I looked at Myne, still kneeling there, a figure of pathetic villainy. "Oh come on, don't tell me you want to save Myne," I finished, giving Myne another sharp kick for good measure.
Myne gasped, flinching, but remained silent.
The King watched me, his expression unreadable. He knew I was right about the law. He knew Myne deserved punishment. But he was still his son. "I think you are right," the King said, acknowledging the legal and moral weight of my words, "but it's normal for a king to protect his child. Besides, if the Shield Hero wishes, I will have Myne's head cut off right now," he said. An offer of absolute vengeance, placed in Naomi's hand. A test.
I think this matter should not be escalated further. Beheading the Prince? That would cause chaos in this kingdom, maybe even politically damage the King. While Myne deserved it, throwing this kingdom into further turmoil right before the Waves... it wasn't pragmatic.
"Hey Shield Hero," I said, looking at Naomi, speaking low, for her ears only, lowering my voice from the roaring accusations. "Now it's up to you what decision you make. I hope you make a well-thought-out decision that you won't regret later," I whispered to her, adding the weight of future consequences.
"Alrigh-" she was saying, her voice trembling, looking at Myne, at the King, at me.
"Remember," I interrupted gently, my voice still low, adding the crucial, pragmatic warning, the one that might sway her decision towards practicality over immediate vengeance, "if that person survives and schemes again, which of course he will, then I won't be there to save you." I wouldn't be sticking around forever. My mission was here, but my life was in my own world.
"My decision is that..." she said, taking a deep breath. She looked at Myne one last time, then back at the King. She had been through hell because of him. The choice was hers. Life or death.
It's best to kill him right now. My pragmatic mind supplied the most efficient, safest answer. Eliminate the threat permanently.
"Myne should be left alive."
My eyes widened slightly. She chose... mercy? Or pragmatism?
"Besides," she continued, her voice gaining a quiet strength, "the king can give him whatever punishment he wants, because only he knows what is best for his son." She deferred to the King's judgment, his authority. Acknowledging his role, his burden as a father and a ruler.
"Naofumi, you have put me in a difficult position now," the King said, looking at me, a wry expression on his face. By leaving Myne alive and putting the decision back in his lap, she had forced the King to act decisively, to punish his son adequately, or lose face completely in front of his court and the other heroes. That's right, now that everything is up to the king, he will have to give Myne a befitting punishment, otherwise how will he be called a good king?
"Hahaha," I couldn't help it. A genuine laugh bubbled up, full of dark amusement and a surprising surge of pride. "You made a good decision, Naofumi." It was complex. Mercy? Or forcing the King's hand? Either way, it was a smart move. A survivor's move. But she was dumbfounded by my laughter.
"Hey, why don't you decide what punishment Myne should get?" the King said while looking at me, sensing my approval, perhaps wanting to deflect the difficult decision onto the stranger who had exposed everything.
"You really want that?" I said while looking at him, a grin crept onto my face. Deciding the fate of the prince of a foreign nation? That was a power trip. A chance to truly dictate terms.
"Of course," he said, pragmatic as ever. "Just don't kill him, the Shield Hero has forbidden that." Myne's life was spared, but his punishment was mine to decide.
I thought for a while. What was the most fitting punishment? Death was too simple. Eternal suffering? Tempting. But time was limited.
"I leave this decision to you," I said, the grin fading, returning to a more serious tone. Forcing the King to act was the better long-term strategy for this kingdom's stability, for Naomi's potential future here. "Since you are a great king, I am sure you will make the right decision." A subtle piece of flattery, a public acknowledgment of his authority, boxing him in. He had to make an example now.
He started thinking, his expression grim. The weight of his decision settling on him.
"I think the rest of the process can happen without us," I said, turning from the King and the grim tableau of the court. My part was done. The truth was out. Myne was exposed and marked. Naomi was vindicated (to the court, at least). Her fate, and Myne's, were now in the King's hands.
I took a firmer grip on Naomi's hand. "So, we will take our leave," I said, activating teleportation. The hall dissolved around us. The gasps of the court, the shocked faces, the kneeling figure of Myne, the grim King... all vanished in a swirl of light and color.
And then, we were back. In the quiet forest clearing. The smell of pine, the sound of distant birds.
I walked towards a clear spot of ground, and sat down on the grass.
She hesitated for a second and then sat beside me, her body touching me.