hotmtlnovel Chapter 107 – The Trial – Part 1
Chapter 107 – The Trial – Part 1
Taking five steps forward, Sokram stood at the edge of the proscenium, not daring to step on it.Behind him, his family occupied the front seats in the right row, while Count Steelheart and Sandra sat to their left.
Lucien, looking at Sokram, pointed at the Steelhearts and posed a question, “This is a dispute between noble houses. You, Sokram, the heir of two noble titles and a great legacy of heroes of Norwinter, stand here accused of murder by the Steelheart family. What do you say in your defense?”
“Not guilty, Your Highness,” Sokram showed no hesitation in his tone.
Accustomed to disputes between nobles, as it was a common occurrence in his court, Lucien nodded, now more standoffish.
“Do you have any counter-accusations against the Steelheart family?”
Sokram’s tone remained firm and sincere, “Yes, Your Highness. I believe they have been conspiring to commit treason against Eversnow and Norwinter. And I also have evidence that they plan to overthrow you, Your Highness.”
Chatter exploded in the room.
Marcel surged to his feet, enraged, “You dare?! How can you accuse my noble family of something like that without any proof? We have always been loyal to Norwinter and all of its people!”
“Silence!” Lucien demanded.
The hall quieted before he turned back to Sokram.
“This accusation is very grave, Sokram. Do you understand the seriousness of this issue?”
“I do, Your Highness.” Sokram nodded confidently.
The lack of hesitation he showed unnerved the Steelhearts immensely.
“Slanderer! What has my Steelheart family ever done to you? You murdered my sons, and now you try to piss on our name?!”
Marcel’s face contorted, a mask of outrage.
He jabbed a trembling finger at Sokram, as his voice, raw with rage and indignation, echoed through the hall.
Beside him, Sandra’s fingers tightened around her skirts.
Her eyes flicked across the room, measuring the fallout of his performance.
A low hum of murmurs began to ripple through the spectators, like bees disturbed from a hive, their gazes shifting between the furious Count and the calm Sokram.
Some thought he’d lost his mind.
Everyone knew the royal family favored the Steelhearts.
Some even thought that his fame had gone to his head.
But those who knew his accusations weren’t empty words remained quietly, waiting for the show to start.
“Silence!” Lucien’s sharp voice cut through the hall again.
This time, he turned to Count Steelheart, ordering, “Don’t speak out of turn again, Marcel, or I will order your imprisonment and let your daughter defend your family instead.”
“But Your Highness…” Marcel still tried to argue, but Lucien swiftly cut him off.
“I have spoken! Be quiet and await your turn!” Lucien’s tone left no room for argument.
Marcel could only nod and sit back.
Once the room was silent again, Lucien took out a dagger made of pure Mithril and embedded with a crimson gem on its hilt.
The King offered the dagger to Sokram, his piercing gaze locking with Sokram’s, a silent warning in its depths.
“Since you know the weight of your words, can you back them with your life?”
“Yes, Your Highness! I, the future head of my three families, have never been afraid of telling the truth.”
Sokram nodded, not daring to step on the proscenium, and extended his hand toward the dagger.
When Lucien felt the light tug of Force, he released his grip on it, and the dagger floated to Sokram’s hand.
With the dagger in hand, Sokram cut his palm, and with a solemn expression, a clear voice, an earnest tone, and his blood dripping over the carpeted floor as he declared:
“By my heart, blood, and power, I, Sokram di Dracony vid Dracnakrid, before all present here, swear that all the words I’ll speak during this trial are truthful and all the evidence I’ll present is untampered with. With Nhiria as the judge of my fate, if she finds any fault in my words and the evidence I’ll present, may the void swallow me whole so I’ll never be born again.”
A hush settled over the hall, and the crowd watched with quiet anticipation, some impressed by Sokram’s composure, others trying to find faults or loopholes in his carefully chosen words.
Yet, when the dagger’s crimson gemstone pulsed with a deep, blood-red glow that seemed to expand, filling the space around it, the silence wasn’t just exterior anymore; even their minds went blank.
With a soft, almost imperceptible hum, it lifted from his palm, rising steadily, as if guided by an unseen hand.
It came to rest, hovering perfectly still in the air between the King and Sokram, its crimson eye now fixed on the proceedings, a silent, unblinking sentinel.
Nhiria’s watchful gaze was now over them.
Nhiria accepted Sokram’s Oath, and she was now the judge of his truth.
“It seems our beloved guardian has taken an interest in you, Sokram. Very rarely does an oath trigger such a reaction.”
Lucien praised, his sincerity, astonishment, and curiosity clear in his eyes, as he watched the floating dagger as if looking at Nhiria herself.
The King’s words rippled through the crowd, and murmurs and whispers spread like waves.
Turning back to Sokram, Lucien asked with a firm yet gentle tone, “Alright, you may present your arguments for your defense and accusation.”
Sokram nodded respectfully but asked, “Your Highness, instead of speaking, wouldn’t it be better if I showed you?”
“Show?” Lucien looked at him, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“Your Highness will understand, may I?” Sokram finally flashed his confident grin.
“Do what you must.” Lucien shrugged, and leaning back on his throne, he watched Sokram move with great curiosity.
The first thing Sokram did was take the blood ink he had prepared and draw an array on the floor; then he also took out five moonstones and inscribed a few runes on them.
Once he cast the spell to create the runestones, the energy around the hall rushed into the moonstones, seeping into their core.
They quickly became azure but didn’t stop there, turning emerald.
The crowd once again exploded in chatter, “Emerald Runestones!”
“He’s just thirteen and is already a Runemaster?!”
“Impossible!”
Words of astonishment and disbelief echoed across the hall at the display of Magi that Sokram was performing.
Too focused to be bothered by the crowd's reaction, Sokram proceeded unbothered as he placed the runestones in the array, each of them in specific positions.
Eyes followed his every move, brows knit in concentration, breaths held tight as the array took form.
Yet, very few could read through his spell.
Then, turning to Hannah, his gaze met hers with a knowing look: “Nana, the crystals, please.”
Hannah stood up and walked toward the center of the array, not taking any chances with letting the recording crystal be destroyed.
“In the center, right?”
“Yes, please.” Sokram nodded.
As soon as she placed the crystal in the center of the array, Sokram cast, extending his hand toward it, unnecessarily invoking the spell aloud, “Sensory Image Display!”
“Show off!” Leona teased, causing Sokram's close ones to stifle their giggles, and then joked, “Your naming sense is horrible, though.”
Sokram only chuckled, hearing his Master mocking him like that.
The recording crystal floated and began rotating.
Slowly at first, but soon it was spinning so fast that it became spherical to the untrained eye.
The runes flared up, shooting lights toward the spinning crystal, and the hall had transformed into a road surrounded by a thick forest of pine trees and falling snow.
But it wasn’t just images; the hall appeared to have dissolved, replaced by the biting cold that seeped into their bones.
A collective shiver went through the crowd as the scent of pine needles and damp earth filled the air.
They heard the muffled crunch of snow under heavy hooves, felt the almost imperceptible sting of frozen flakes against their skin, and saw their breath’s vapor in the frigid air as Sokram and his team rode in contemplative silence.
The King looked at the floating dagger, which had remained still, without any reaction to Sokram’s spell.
But when Marcel understood what Sokram was about to show, he lunged to his feet, his sharp voice cutting through the silence, “These theatrics are the evidence? How can any of us believe this is truly a recording…”
In the next second, the floating dagger glowed and crackled with red lightning that snaked its way, shooting toward Marcel.
The loud clap of thunder silenced everyone; the crimson lightning pushed Marcel back to his seat, paralyzing him completely.
More authoritative than the King’s order was Nhiria’s will.
It was as if they all heard her voice in the thundering sound of the lightning:
“You will not interrupt again!”
“Nhiria has spoken, the recording is real.” Lucien stood up, looking around briefly at the silent room.
Seeing the understanding dawning on everyone present, his gaze turned to Sokram: “Can you pause it?”
Without uttering a single word, the recording paused completely.rees.
Sokram’s shout for his teammates to run drew the crowd's gaze back to his recorded self; his teammates' despair when their mounts departed showed how strong their bond was.
While each of them, watching among the crowd, showed conflicted expressions, remembering those moments of despair.
Some of the women in the crowd were watching the emotionally charged scene, overly invested. And were so moved they couldn't contain themselves as audible gasps and sighs escaped their lips.
“Why weren’t they able to jump from their mounts?” The King's voice calmly sounded.
Sokram paused the recording, and his answer came loud and clear. So no one would take his teammates for cowards: “I snuck some runestones in their saddles when they were sleeping. I knew they wouldn’t run had I allowed them to choose. They are true warriors of the north and would never leave a comrade behind.”
“So you knew you could be ambushed?” Lucien questioned, unsurprised, studying Sokram carefully with a very analytical gaze.
“Yes, I was expecting something like that to happen. But to show why, I’ll need to start another recording and show the beginning of what is recorded in this crystal.”
Sokram explained, unbothered by the King’s prying gaze.
“Then do it after this one. You may proceed,” Lucien nodded, not hiding his excitement about this new experience of seeing past events with so much clarity and feeling as if he were there.
The recording went on, and the room felt silent after Aaron’s hate speech and confessions.
When the King heard Aaron’s shouting, “When my father becomes King…” The air felt chilly, and Sokram had to pause the recording again; the King's mana, leaking along his killing intent, was interfering with the recording.
Seeing the recording had stopped, the King snapped out of his murderous daze.
“Your Highness, your mana was…” But Lucien raised a hand for him to stop and motioned for him to continue.
His gaze didn’t move to Aaron; instead, his gaze was locked on Marcel, who, despite being paralyzed, a vein throbbed at his temple, his paralyzed fingers twitching against the chair’s arm, watching his late son's stupidity ruin with a few words what took him close to a century to build.