Ch 14.4

Few organizations in the world possessed influence comparable to that of the Bastion of Rugged Adventures and the Vanguards of Eldoria. Most simply called it BRAVE.

Its banners flew across continents. Its guild halls stood in kingdoms, republics, tribal territories, and independent city-states alike. Only the Church of Virtues possessed greater global influence.

Even then, BRAVE's authority was far from absolute.

Every nation imposed its own restrictions upon the organization. Kings distrusted outside powers. Tribal elders fiercely guarded their independence. Noble houses feared losing their influence.

Yet despite those limitations, BRAVE continued to thrive. Because its purpose was simple. Protect those who could not protect themselves. Regardless of race. Regardless of status. Regardless of faith.

When mana beasts threatened villages, BRAVE responded.
When trade routes became infested with monsters, BRAVE cleared them.|
When isolated settlements lacked the manpower to defend themselves, BRAVE adventurers stood in their place.
And when a Dungeon spawned, BRAVE was tasked with clearing it before it could develop into a Dungeon Break.

Their members died every year defending people they had never met. Because of those sacrifices, countless nations welcomed their presence.

The Isle Continent, in particular, had become one of BRAVE's strongest bastions. Much of the continent remained an untamed wilderness.

Ancient forests stretched beyond the horizon. Mana beasts roamed territories larger than entire kingdoms. Ruins of forgotten civilizations remained buried beneath vines and earth. Hidden among the dense foliage were countless Dungeon-infested regions, many of them still unexplored.

Every year, new expeditions ventured into those wild lands, seeking to reclaim territory for future settlements. The population was growing. But habitable land was becoming increasingly scarce.

BRAVE had played a central role in those efforts.
Its adventurers fought alongside beastmen tribes. Alongside elven kingdoms. Alongside frontier settlers struggling to survive beyond the borders of civilization.

Over the decades, friendships became alliances. Alliances became trust. And trust became influence. That influence had granted BRAVE something more valuable than military strength.

Soft power. The ability to unite people. The ability to mediate disputes. The ability to maintain peace between factions that might otherwise tear each other apart.

Yet even BRAVE had made controversial decisions. None was more divisive than its agreement with the Church of Virtues.

Officially, the arrangement had been a success. Some of the major tribes had even voted in favor of the alliance.
The Isle Continent simply lacked the resources to support its growing population, especially among smaller and more distant tribes.

The Church missionaries brought medicine. Resources. Knowledge. Aid. Many struggling tribes flourished because of that support.

But not everyone saw the arrangement as a blessing. Many feared the Church's growing presence. Many feared dependence. Many feared losing their traditions. And those fears had only intensified in recent years.

That was why the events in Barville worried BRAVE's leadership so greatly. The moment reports reached headquarters about the Tranquil Pavilion incident, alarms were raised. This was a particularly dangerous time for BRAVE.

An official emissary of the Church of Virtues had been sent to negotiate a deal with the Warlord's Council of the Isle Continent. The negotiations were still ongoing in Despora, where the Summit of Warlords was taking place.

And the escort left behind by the emissary, stationed in the port city of Barville, had come under attack.

Some reports claimed the Church escort had been planning something within the city. Others claimed they had been attacked simply because they were human and had become targets of anti-human hatred.

The reports contradicted one another. That alone was enough to make the situation dangerous. Investigators were dispatched immediately.

A judge was assigned. An S-Rank security detail was assembled. Because this situation carried consequences far beyond a single town.

The diplomats involved were not ordinary missionaries. They had arrived under the authority of Bishop Fernandes. One of the highest-ranking figures within the Church of Virtues.

More importantly, Fernandes carried a message from the Heavenly Virtues themselves. The same message that had triggered the emergency War Council gathering in Despora.

A gathering significant enough that guildmasters, rulers, and powerful leaders from across the continent had abandoned their homes to attend. That alone demonstrated how serious the matter was.

And there was another reason for the Church's heightened sensitivity. A few years earlier, one of the Heavenly Virtues had been murdered.

The perpetrators were still at large. The entire Church had been placed on high alert. The search for the killers had continued for years, yet no definitive answers had emerged.

Five years had now passed since the incident. And now, for some reason, the Church was turning its attention toward the Isle Continent. The last thing anyone needed was a diplomatic incident there.

If the people of Barville came to believe that BRAVE was protecting the Church, unrest could spread beyond the city.

But if the Church came to believe its diplomats were being unfairly persecuted, relations could collapse. And if those relations collapsed…

The consequences for the Isle Continent could be catastrophic. A bloody war would be the minimum consequence.

No one understood this better than Sir Nendalf, the raven-masked judge. Seated upon the highest chair in the courtroom, hidden behind the expressionless raven mask of his office, he silently reviewed the detailed reports laid before him. His breathing remained steady, and his posture stayed composed, yet beneath the mask, sweat gathered along his brow.

The old judge slowly exhaled. On paper, this appeared to be a simple trial: two accused men, several witnesses, a damaged pavilion, half a dozen girls suffering from parasitic spells and curses, and several others left injured. Yet every instinct he possessed told him that this case was anything but simple.

If he openly favored the Church, the people of the Isle Continent would see BRAVE as nothing more than puppets of a foreign power, and years of trust could vanish overnight. But if he allowed local sentiment to influence his judgment without sufficient evidence, the Church might interpret the verdict as an act of hostility. Relations between the two major powers could deteriorate, perhaps even ignite a conflict. The thought alone made his fingers tighten around the armrest.

For a brief moment, his hand trembled, and a nearby adventurer standing behind him noticed immediately.

"Sir Nendalf?" The judge looked up to find the young guard watching him with concern. The adventurer wore the insignia of BRAVE's tactical division and was one of the S-Class adventurers assigned to protect the proceedings. "Are you alright?"

Nendalf paused before offering a small nod. "Just fatigue from the journey. Thank you for your concern." His voice remained calm despite the unease tightening his chest.

"Of course, sir." The adventurer relaxed and stepped back into position.

Silence returned to the courtroom as Nendalf watched him go. His gaze then drifted across the chamber, passing over the Pavilion girls, Nosmos, Wallus, the guild representatives, and the various witnesses. Every person in the room believed they understood what justice looked like. Yet most of them had already chosen a side, whether they realized it or not. That was precisely why they could never sit in his chair.

Nendalf slowly closed his eyes. Throughout his long life, he had presided over hundreds of disputes. Some had ended peacefully, while others had sparked conflicts that eventually grew into wars. Through all those years, however, one lesson had remained constant: a judge who feared the consequences of the truth was no judge at all.

Eventually, he opened his eyes again. The trembling in his hands had vanished.

Whatever happened after the verdict was beyond his control. The reactions of nations, the anger of tribes, and the demands of the Church were burdens for others to carry. His responsibility was far simpler. He had to find the truth, deliver justice, and allow fate to decide the rest.

Such was the creed of Sir Nendalf, Judge of the Raven Society and servant of BRAVE's judiciary. And today, perhaps, he was the most burdened man on the Isle Continent.

The courtroom buzzed with quiet tension. Guild representatives whispered among themselves while guards stood motionless beside the walls. Every creak of a chair seemed unusually loud beneath the heavy silence that had settled over the chamber.

Then the massive doors at the rear of the courtroom swung open.

The murmurs immediately died as two figures entered, drawing every eye in the room toward them.

Old Monk Rugbert walked at the front. The elderly monkey beastman moved at an unhurried pace, his hands clasped behind his back. His long mustache swayed gently with each step, and despite his age, his posture remained perfectly straight.

Following behind him was Verdant the Wise.

The Horus tribesman had assumed his humanoid form for the occasion. His golden wings remained neatly folded behind his back, while his sharp eyes swept across the courtroom as he entered.

A ripple of recognition moved through the audience. Many adventurers bowed their heads, while several guildmasters rose slightly from their seats out of respect. Even the guards straightened their backs.

These were not merely powerful adventurers. They were living legends.

Verdant glanced around the room before offering a faint smile. "We apologize for our delay. Old Monk Rugbert spent far too long chewing his lentils this morning."

Several people blinked. Silence followed. Not a single laugh escaped the audience. Not even a chuckle. The atmosphere remained as stiff as a funeral.

Old Monk Rugbert did not react at all. He simply continued walking.

Verdant sighed dramatically. "Tough crowd. Well, I tried." His wings twitched slightly as he looked around at the expressionless faces. "Seems I've walked into a gallows rather than a courtroom."

A few adventurers looked away awkwardly, while others stared at the floor. The joke died a lonely death.

Sir Nendalf rose from his chair, and the room immediately followed suit. With a respectful inclination of his head, the judge greeted the two veterans. "Thank you for answering BRAVE's request on such short notice."

Old Monk Rugbert returned a small nod. "The pleasure is ours. Besides, this matter concerns Barville. It would be irresponsible for us to remain absent." His calm gaze swept across the courtroom before settling on Nendalf.

Verdant placed a hand over his chest and bowed lightly. "My friend speaks the truth. The burden of this trial is heavy. The least we can do is help carry a portion of it."

Nendalf felt a flicker of gratitude. "Your assistance is appreciated."

The judge then gestured toward the elevated seats beside him. "As agreed, one of you will serve as plaintiff counsel and the other as defender counsel. I leave the decision entirely to your discretion."

A brief silence followed. Rugbert and Verdant exchanged a glance. No words were spoken, yet some silent understanding seemed to pass between them. After only a few moments, both men nodded.

The decision had been made.

Old Monk Rugbert turned toward the right side of the courtroom, while Verdant headed toward the left. The significance of their choices became apparent almost immediately.

On the right sat the representatives of the Tranquil Pavilion: Aisha, Tevu, Gina, and Fina, along with several guild representatives who had openly sympathized with their cause. The moment Rugbert approached, visible relief appeared on several faces.

Meanwhile, Verdant crossed toward the left side of the courtroom, where Nosmos, Wallus, the Church envoys, and the guards assigned to watch over them were seated. The chains around the prisoners rattled softly as they shifted in their seats.

Verdant sat without hesitation. Neither choice appeared to be motivated by favoritism. Rather, it seemed that both men had deliberately chosen the side they believed required the strongest scrutiny.

The two elevated counsel seats stood nearly level with the judge's platform. They were not equal to the judge's position, but they were close enough that every word spoken from those seats would carry immense influence throughout the courtroom.

Old Monk Rugbert climbed into his chair. A court attendant immediately hurried over and placed a thick cushion beneath him. The old monkey settled back, looking considerably more comfortable.

Verdant settled into his own seat with considerably more dignity.

Once both men were seated, they turned their attention toward the courtroom. The final pieces were now in place.

Nendalf slowly rose from his chair. The raven mask concealed his expression, but when he spoke, his voice carried with unmistakable authority throughout the chamber.

"I am Judge Nendalf of the Raven Society. I shall preside over today's proceedings."

He gestured to his right. "Representing the Plaintiff Counsel, we have Monk Rugbert."
Then he turned to his left. "And overseeing the Defender Counsel, we have Verdant the wise."

The courtroom fell completely silent. Even the sound of breathing seemed subdued.

Outside, thousands of citizens waited for answers. Inside, every person present understood that history might be written within these walls.

Nendalf lifted the gavel. "The court will now hear Case Number 13-A-3056."

He paused, allowing the words to settle over the chamber.
"The matter concerning the Tranquil Pavilion Incident."

The gavel struck the wooden block.

THUMP.

The sharp sound echoed through the courtroom. And with it, the trial officially began.