Ch 14.3

By sunrise, the center of Barville had become a sea of bodies.

Citizens packed every street surrounding the town hall. Tavern owners had abandoned their shops to join the gathering. Dockworkers arrived still wearing their work clothes, while adventurers stood shoulder-to-shoulder with merchants, craftsmen, and laborers.

The crowd had only one demand.
“Hand over the Church diplomats!”

The chant echoed through the square. “Hand them over!”

Many carried signs hastily painted during the night. Others clutched bottles and stones. A few openly wore weapons despite city regulations.

The mood was ugly. This wasn't the excitement of spectators waiting for a trial. It was the hunger of a mob that had already decided the verdict.

Fortunately, the city guards had anticipated the unrest.

Before dawn, while most of Barville still slept, Nosmos, Wallus, and the other Church envoys had already been moved under heavy guard to the courthouse. By the time the crowd began gathering, the prisoners were safely inside the town hall.

The angry citizens had arrived too late. That realization only made them louder.

Later that morning, another group arrived. The surviving girls of the Tranquil Pavilion.

Aisha led the way. Tevu walked beside her, her posture stiffening whenever she glanced toward the enormous crowd. Behind them followed Gina and Fina.

The moment the citizens recognized them, the atmosphere changed completely. Cheers erupted from every direction.

“Aisha! Tevu!”

“Our heroes!”

“Stay strong!”

“We're with you!”

People raised their fists. Others bowed their heads respectfully. Several women tossed flowers onto the path ahead of them.

For a brief moment, Aisha felt the weight pressing against her chest begin to lift. After everything they had endured, it was comforting to know the people of Barville stood behind them.

Yet that comfort faded almost as quickly as it came. Because mixed among the cheers for the Pavilion girls were cheers for someone else.

“Guildmaster Nosmos did nothing wrong!”

“Free Nosmos!”

“Justice for Tooth & Nail!”

Aisha's smile faltered. Tevu's expression darkened. Neither of them liked hearing those words. Not after what they had witnessed. Not after seeing the destruction firsthand.

Yet the crowd seemed unwilling to separate the two sides of the incident. To many citizens, the Pavilion girls and Nosmos were victims of the same conspiracy.

And in their eyes, both deserved to be protected. Aisha exchanged a glance with Tevu. Neither said anything. They simply continued toward the courthouse.

Meanwhile, Haria and Meriath had been left behind at the guild. Someone had to oversee the repairs, deal with the paperwork, and handle the countless problems left in the aftermath of the attack.

Kazyak, meanwhile, remained confined to a hospital bed under the supervision of the city healers. Her injuries had not yet fully healed. Sheila and the other courtesan girls were being treated by the Black Phantasmal guild to lift the spellwork over the girls.

Finally, Aisha's group entered the town hall to attend the trial.

They had barely stepped inside when a sudden commotion swept through the crowd outside. Heads turned toward the eastern road.

The judge had arrived.

A massive monster-drawn wagon rolled through the streets at surprising speed. Its armored wheels crushed loose stones beneath them as it approached the town hall.

The crowd instinctively stepped back. Not out of respect but out of caution.

Surrounding the wagon was a small escort force. Only six adventurers. Yet their presence alone silenced many of the loudest troublemakers.

Every one of them wore the insignia of the BRAVE Coalition. Every one of them carried the pressure of an S-Class adventurer. Mana rolled from their bodies like invisible waves, pressing against everyone nearby.

Even experienced adventurers in the crowd suddenly found themselves looking away. Nobody wanted to test whether the rumors surrounding BRAVE's tactical response teams were true.

The city guards quickly moved into formation. Shields locked together. Spears raised. A corridor opened through the crowd.

The judge's wagon rolled through without interruption. Not a single stone was thrown. Not a single weapon was drawn. The crowd remained loud, but nobody crossed the line.

Within moments, the wagon reached the steps of the town hall. The raven-masked judge stepped out.

His small figure looked almost insignificant compared to the towering adventurers surrounding him. Yet as he climbed the steps, an uneasy silence followed in his wake.

Because everyone understood one thing. The shouting outside no longer mattered. The rumors no longer mattered.

Inside the courthouse, only testimony, evidence, and judgment would decide the fate of Nosmos, Wallus, and everyone connected to the Tranquil Pavilion incident.

At least, that was what BRAVE wanted people to believe. The reality was far more complicated.

Trust in the BRAVE Coalition had been steadily eroding across portions of the Isle Continent for years. Not because BRAVE was weak. Quite the opposite.

The organization had become so powerful and influential that many tribes had begun to fear its growing political reach. And one issue in particular continued to divide the continent.

The Church of Virtues. Years ago, BRAVE had signed agreements allowing Church missionaries to operate within parts of the Isle Continent under strict supervision.

Officially, the arrangement benefited everyone.

The Church provided food, medicine, education, healers, and infrastructure to struggling settlements. BRAVE provided oversight to ensure the missionaries obeyed local laws and did not abuse their authority.

For many smaller tribes, the arrangement had been a blessing.

Villages that had struggled through famine suddenly received shipments of grain. Remote settlements gained access to healing magic. Children learned to read. Roads were built. Trade expanded.

As a result, numerous impoverished tribes welcomed the Church with open arms. Some even converted to the faith entirely.

Others maintained their traditional beliefs while accepting the Church's aid.

Either way, the Church's influence continued to spread. And with every new settlement that embraced them, opposition grew elsewhere. Many of the more powerful tribes viewed the expansion with suspicion.

To them, the missionaries were not merely priests. They were representatives of a foreign power. Every converted village was another piece of the continent slipping away from native influence.

Barville stood firmly among those skeptics. The town had never fully trusted the Church. Its people were fiercely independent. Proud. Protective of their traditions.

The arrival of Chloe and the other abbesses months earlier had already stirred unease among many citizens. Officially, they had come to provide aid and strengthen diplomatic relations.

Unofficially, many locals believed they had been sent to expand the Church's influence deeper into the region. Now, after the Tranquil Pavilion incident, those fears had exploded into open hostility.

Outside the courthouse, citizens spoke less about evidence and more about motives.

“They're trying to take over.”

“BRAVE protects them.”

“The Church always gets special treatment.”

Such sentiments had become increasingly common. Whether they were true or not hardly mattered anymore. People believed them. And belief was often more powerful than fact.

That was what worried the BRAVE Coalition most. Because this trial was no longer simply about Nosmos. Or Wallus. Or the Pavilion.

The courtroom had become the battleground for something much larger. A struggle between tradition and change. Between native tribes and foreign influence.

Between those who trusted BRAVE's judgment and those who would only trust their own.

Inside the courtroom, the raven-masked judge sat silently atop the high seat. Two of the adventurer guards stood behind him, while the remaining four were positioned around the perimeter of the chamber to thwart any attacks or attempts to disrupt the proceedings.

Yet even the judge understood how delicate the situation was. Whatever verdict emerged from this chamber would not satisfy everyone. Perhaps it would satisfy no one.

Because regardless of what the evidence ultimately revealed, half of Barville had already decided the outcome before the trial had even begun.