She wore a black robe. Her dark hair, as black as ink, cascaded softly over her shoulders. She was Judge [The Mezona Bathra], bearer of the "Scales of Maga."
She descended the steps of her platform with steady steps, approaching him until she stood directly in front of him. Then… she reached out her hand and touched his neck.
In that moment, Egologia felt a cold current flowing through his body. This wasn't ordinary Maga… it was something deeper than that. His consciousness was being torn apart, his thoughts pulled out, as if his mind had been completely exposed to her. This was the true judgment—there was no escape from the truth.
Then… she finally asked him:
"Did you truly kill the king of the amphibians, known as King of Vardasia?"
Tension rose in the hall. The politicians—some tense, others waiting impatiently. The king… remained silent, watching from his throne without uttering a word.
Egologia replied, his voice cold and devoid of hesitation:
"Yes... I mean, of course!"
As soon as he uttered it, the Scales of Maga in the judge's hand reacted. The Maga aura began to flow around him. Her eyes closed for a moment… then opened slowly.
"He is telling the truth."
!!
Some in the hall exhaled. Whispers rose among the commanders and nobles. Morgan slammed his hand on the table, while the politicians exchanged astonished glances. Even the king himself… raised an eyebrow. The matter was beginning to pique his interest.
"Well then…" The judge added with a slight sarcastic tone. "It seems you are a hero now."
Egologia smiled faintly, his tone calm and prideful:
"Of course. This is an honor before the king, you, and before all the great ones here."
The whispers among those seated grew louder.
Then, she lifted her head slightly, looking at him with half-closed eyes, before saying:
"Well, let me ask you something more important now…"
"?"
The hall quieted again, anticipation filling the air.
Then she said, her voice steady and strong:
"Did you harm anyone from Zirafin?"
"And did you cause great problems here?"
"Because, in fact, we know nothing about you… you are suspicious, young man."
!!!
The hall trembled. Egologia didn't answer immediately. The judge tightened her grip on his neck, and the aura of the Scales began to flow more intensely!
Egologia's face remained steady, his eyes fixed. Then—!
Egologia felt the pressure of the Bathra's Maga tightening around his neck, coursing through his body like a current searching his soul for lies, for falsehood.
And yet, he smiled.
He raised his head with difficulty, his voice coming out in fragments:
"No! ... It's impossible..."
Everyone froze.
"I am the exact opposite!"
He challenged everyone around him with his blazing eyes, then continued, his voice charged with strength, arrogance, and naked truth:
"I am the kingdom's hidden knight... And now, I have decided to shine before everyone!"
"As I'm the slayer of the spiteful king—the one who slaughtered all those who sacrificed for this kingdom..."
The king watched intently.
"Without a doubt... I take pride in being the ever-loyal protector I have always been..."
Then he fell silent.
Bathra closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the surging power to judge him without distortion. She opened her eyes. Calmly, in a voice like destiny's own decree, she said:
"Everything he says... is true."
Judgmental murmurs rippled through the attendees, passing among them like a heroic contagion, etching the truth above everyone's heads.
Then the king stood. He did not speak—only stood, observing him with eyes that held wisdom and acknowledgment. Then, in a deep voice:
"Then... before this hall, and before all of [Zirafin], I acknowledge you as the slayer of the spiteful king... and I acknowledge you as a hero of this kingdom."
Whispers rose among the politicians, the leaders, the soldiers—even the judges exchanged glances. But none dared interrupt the royal verdict.
Slowly, the king nodded at [Morgan]. The latter understood the signal. He stepped forward, gripped the golden chains binding Egologia, and pressed hard—they shattered!
The chains fell with a reverberating clang, echoing through the hall like a declaration of freedom.
Egologia, who had been kneeling, rose slowly. Everyone looked at him... and there was no more doubt.
They stood, placing their hands over their hearts in a noble salute.
As for the king, he turned and commanded in an official tone:
"Bring forth the Shield of Honor."
Soldiers entered, carrying an ornate shield engraved with the kingdom's emblem, and stood before Egologia.
The king raised his hand and declared in his deep voice:
"Young man... As the king of Zirafin, I bestow upon you this shield in recognition of your bravery and sacrifices, your loyalty to the kingdom, and as proof of your place among the great."
Then he motioned for him to take it.
Egologia, for a moment—just a moment—felt something within him... something he hadn't known in a long time. Something akin to belonging.
He reached out and took the shield.
And thus, applause thundered through the hall—not out of courtesy, but in recognition.
[Egologia... From the Shadows to the Forefront]
After the official acknowledgment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation. The king himself issued a royal decree, written in golden ink and sealed with Zirafin's great emblem:
"[Appointment of Egologia into the ranks of the Royal Soldiers, at the forefront of the kingdom's defenders, in preparation for the coming calamity.]"
And then... the trial ended.
The massive doors of the hall swung open, and Egologia walked out with steady steps. As he passed by, he could hear the whispers rising:
"The slayer of the spiteful king... How was their battle?"
"The king himself acknowledged him!"
"Now he is one of the sacred soldiers bearing that shield!"
In the long corridor, where only the sound of his footsteps echoed, he walked. The towering palace walls stretched on either side, bearing witness to his first entry—bound in seven golden chains, led like a beast that should never be freed.
But now... he walked freely, though he did not fully feel it.
'Fools...' he muttered under his breath, barely audible even to himself. 'The [Ryu Maga]... Farce!!! They call it the Scales, a distorted version of Ryu, a pitiful attempt to comprehend something that cannot even be named.'
He continued walking, his eyes fixed ahead, watching the steps his feet had previously taken on the floor...
'Truth is not in the overwhelming flow of Maga—truth lies in whoever imposes it... I defeated her and fed her the wrong flow... I imposed my own Ryu.'
A mocking smile almost formed on his lips, but he suppressed it, as if it wasn't even worth showing.
He felt hungry. Perhaps he should head to the square—there, he might find something to eat, something to affirm life.