Chapter 170: 170 Judgment

Chapter 170: Judgment

Ronin’s words came out of nowhere, leaving the nobles and knights in stunned silence, their faces twisted with confusion.

They could not fathom how this knightly contest had anything to do with Baron Raisen of the Sain Domain.

Even Breton, the tournament’s host, stepped beside Ronin and whispered urgently, “Brother, Raisen is fifty years old. By the rules of the contest, he’s ineligible to compete.”

At that moment, Raisen himself, who had been watching the match with delight from the balcony, stepped forward, assuming Ronin intended to publicly challenge him.

“Ronin,” Raisen said, gripping the balcony railing, “I admit your strength surpasses even my wildest expectations—this is a blessing for Wushan Castle. But today is a day of celebration. A duel between us would surely leave someone wounded. Forgive me, but I cannot accept your challenge.”

Though he spoke with a smile, his heart brimmed with contempt.

To Raisen, this was nothing but personal vengeance dressed as justice.

Yes, the Forest Village and the Sain Domain had long been at odds—he had even been defeated by one of Ronin’s retainer knights—but matters must be kept separate. To dredge up old grudges on such a day revealed a pitifully narrow mind.

“No, no, no—you misunderstand me, Raisen.”

Ronin uttered three nos in rapid succession, raising his Flameblade and pointing it directly at the man. As his aura surged into the blade, it blazed with searing light. His expression shifted from calm to grim, edged with lethal intent.

“I am not challenging you. I am judging you.”

Judgment?

The word sent ripples of shock through the crowd. Nobles began murmuring among themselves.

To apply “judgment” to a noble was an unforgivable insult.

With those words, Ronin had severed all possibility of reconciliation with Raisen.

Nobles who bore ill will toward Raisen watched with glee. The ever-mischief-loving Viscount Marvin chuckled, “Raisen, no matter how Ronin intends to judge you, since he’s declared it publicly, I suggest you step down from the balcony—quickly.”

Others, adhering to the principle of “harmony brings prosperity,” urged Ronin to set aside the feud between Forest Village and Sain Domain and simply enjoy the festival.

“Fascinating. Truly fascinating.”

Hesus’s voice cut in at the worst possible moment. “Who would have thought that, to keep Her Highness from boredom, Wushan Castle would stage such a spectacle? How brilliant! How enlightening!”

Visking, seated in his wheelchair, had long despised Hesus.

The brother of King Bruno, yet merely a Count of Moonvale—clear proof of his insignificance within the Auduin royal family.

As the second master of Wushan Castle, Visking could afford to speak sharply without fear of retribution.

Yet even he found Ronin’s actions baffling—and deeply irritating.

Hesus let out a cold laugh. “Let me remind you: publicly condemning a noble as guilty of a crime—if false—is a grave offense under royal law.”

Ignoring the murmurs and whispers, Raisen, now the center of every eye, felt his composure begin to crack.

Could Ronin possess evidence against him?

Impossible. He had shown no sign—none whatsoever.

Raisen’s heart trembled, but his face remained composed. “Ronin, you wish to judge me? On what authority?”

With a powerful leap, he landed in the center of the square.

His aura surged violently, a visible torrent of rage. “To falsely accuse a noble—even if you are the heir of a Marquis—I will challenge you to a duel to the death!”

Duel to the death—the ultimate resolution among nobles. Brutal. Common. Honorable.

“I admire your courage, Baron Raisen,” Ronin said with a smile. “If I were defeated by a high-rank knight, I wouldn’t dare challenge another for at least three or five years.”

A roar of laughter erupted.

“You—!”

Raisen’s face flushed crimson. With a bellow, he lunged forward.

But Macken, who had been standing silently beside Ronin, stepped in and blocked the blow with a single arm.

Raisen’s eyes widened in horror.

This guard—Ronin’s bodyguard—was nearly as strong as Redar.

When had Forest Village, when had Ronin, amassed such power?

“Raisen, don’t rush,” Ronin said, stepping back two paces, his voice ringing clear. “All of you have surely been watching closely the attempted assassination of Her Highness yesterday. Now, I publicly accuse—Baron Raisen Sain of Marsh Village was behind it!”

Silence shattered into chaos.

On the balcony, every noble froze, stunned.

Even Hesus, moments ago mocking, now wore a solemn expression.

Even Marvin, the instigator of every scandal, fell silent.

Even the notoriously oblivious Visking leaned forward, alarmed. “Ronin—what are you saying?”

To accuse a noble of assassinating another noble was grave.

To accuse a noble of attempting to assassinate a princess? That was an act of unimaginable magnitude.

“What is Ronin trying to do?”

Austen’s face was cold, icy. His eyes flicked to Rulans seated ahead—still calm, unruffled.

“Did Rulans know of this beforehand?”

“He must have.”

Austen thought. “Then is he using Ronin to eliminate Raisen? But… Raisen couldn’t possibly have been involved in the princess’s assassination.”

Raisen was merely a baron. Marsh Village was poor, barren. He lacked the means to hire a Gold-rank assassin. He dared not even dream of targeting royalty.

Yet, faced with this accusation, Raisen’s anxiety dissolved.

“Absurd!”

He laughed bitterly. “Accusing me of assassinating another noble? That might be plausible. But me? Assassinating the princess? Do you think I have the capacity?”

“Everyone knows,” Ronin said, scanning the crowd, his gaze finally settling on Visking, “that several months ago, my father was targeted by the assassin guild known as the Skull Society.”

“In that attack, my father survived—but lost a leg. He will spend the rest of his life confined to a wheelchair, never again able to ride into battle.”

Visking’s face darkened. Why drag him into this? Why rub salt into his wounds?

Then Ronin raised his voice, loud and clear:

“And on the seventh day of this very month—I, Ronin—was attacked in my own castle, in Forest Village!”

The words struck like a boulder into a still lake.

Raisen’s face turned ashen.

He had assumed the Skull Society hadn’t yet moved against Ronin. He had even believed the princess’s assassination attempt was meant for Ronin himself.

He never imagined they had already struck—

—and in Forest Village.

That meant… the attempt had failed?

(End of Chapter)