Chapter 25: The Power Holders
Second floor of the Parliament Hall, Arbitration Chamber.
The function of this arbitration chamber was singular—it was not used to judge heinous criminals, but to adjudicate officials, or rather, the high-ranking officials of the empire.
The arbitration chamber, unused for a full month, remained tidy. The thick curtains were drawn tight, the crystal chandelier at the center of the ceiling was lit, and well-dressed officials whispered among themselves. The arbitration had not yet begun.
At the far end of the arbitration chamber was a raised judge's table, on which lay several documents. The seat behind the judge's table was empty, but on its backrest was a pattern of two crossed swords.
In front of the judge's table was an open space, the polished marble floor spotless. At the very center of the arbitration chamber stood a specially made wooden chair, surrounded by iron railings. Clearly, this was the "VIP seat" for the accused—no one wanted to sit there.
The "VIP seat" faced the judge's table. On either side of it, near the walls, were two rows of wooden tables, all of which were now fully occupied. Most of those seated here were older, with a conservative average age of over fifty. Their expressions were stern, and some had their eyes closed, resting.
Behind the "VIP seat" were several rows of seats, also nearly full. Madam Nancy sat in the first row, looking uneasy. Gus, Hank, and Reinhardt sat in the very last row. Old Hank was muttering something, his gaze occasionally shifting to those seated behind the long wooden tables—these were the councilors. Apart from the monarch, when gathered together, they were the empire's highest power holders—provided they dared to gather.
The door beside the judge's table opened, and everyone in the room stood up, placing their right hand over their chest while bowing their heads.
Monarch Harold's pace was unhurried. He sat down behind the judge's table, picked up the teacup on it, and took a small sip.
"Everyone, sit."
As soon as Harold spoke, the councilors and observers took their seats. The councilors' expressions were relatively natural, but most of the observers looked nervous. Just Harold sitting there put considerable pressure on them.
Gus seized the opportunity to look at Harold, only to find Harold's gaze also turning his way. Gus immediately tensed up—he had fought against wraiths without feeling as nervous as he did now.
"Idiot, lower your head."
Bonnie's voice came through as she jabbed him hard in the waist. Gus, being who he was—a honey badger among the awakened—grinned at Harold, looking as foolish as possible, and finally nodded in acknowledgment.
Harold glanced at Gus with interest. He didn't mind Gus's somewhat impolite behavior; instead, he picked up the documents on the table. Seeing Gus's scar-covered face, Harold felt a pang of personal discomfort. This young man, about the same age as his eldest son, had been rendered inhuman by his battles with the wraiths.
But from a monarch's perspective, people like Gus were necessary. After using them, they had to be properly handled—kept away from densely populated areas. If the risk was too high, they could be quietly eliminated.
"Ahem."
Harold cleared his throat, and the murmuring in the arbitration chamber ceased. Today's arbitration involved four key figures: Monarch Harold, Councilor Leopold, Councilor Jones, and Vice Legion Commander Kukulin Bai Ye.
The empire had twelve councilors in total. Interestingly, they were split into two factions. One was the radical faction, led by Councilor Leopold, who advocated for continued territorial expansion—venturing into the surrounding seas, fully exploring this world, and then dealing with the wraith problem. At least for now, the wraiths were being hunted down by humans and couldn't raise their heads. Of course, this required astronomical costs, involving issues like increased taxation.
The other faction was the conservative faction, represented by Councilor Jones. They advocated for first developing the already occupied lands and solving the wraith problem before exploring outward, to avoid other dangerous intelligent beings emerging from continents beyond the seas.
In reality, the beliefs of the radicals and conservatives were utterly ridiculous. Even Councilor Jones himself had joked about it—how could that gloomy bastard Leopold come up with such a clumsy creed? Wasn't he embarrassed?
The opposition between radicals and conservatives was actually a way of expressing an attitude: they would never unite, thereby showing goodwill to Monarch Harold. You are the king, the true power holder of the empire.
None of the councilors were as incompetent as the outside world claimed. Climbing to this position already said a lot.
"Everyone here knows the reason for today's gathering. Regarding Kukulin Bai Ye's murder of Joshua Eddy, share your thoughts."
Harold's words were essentially directed at Councilors Leopold and Jones. The two of them could represent all the councilors.
"In that case, forgive my impertinence. I have something to say."
Councilor Jones stood up. He was nearly sixty, slightly plump, with an oily face that gave off a sense of kindness. He took a deep breath, as if to steady his emotions.
"Everyone here must have heard of Sir Eddy's character during his lifetime. He used his personal assets to build seventeen hospitals and thirty-five orphanages. A man like this... a man like this..."
Jones's eyes reddened as he spoke, clearly genuinely saddened.
"Such a good man was brutally murdered in his own home!"
Jones's voice suddenly rose, the tearful crack in it even more moving. On the observer's bench, a young girl in a black dress clenched her small fists, muttering under her breath, "What a bastard."
"Councilor Jones, compose yourself."
Harold's expression remained unchanged. If there was one councilor he found most annoying, it was this one. Every time his interests were touched, this nearly seventy-year-old man would cry as if his heart were broken.
"Your Majesty, I lost my composure."
Jones wiped his tears, adjusted his breathing again, and spoke with righteous indignation: "Sir Eddy was a dignified man in life. To be so brutally murdered, I must seek justice for him!"
Jones's speech ended there. Interestingly, the observers who weren't fully informed had their impressions of Su Xiao significantly lowered. Don't underestimate these observers—they were either directly involved in the matter or officials who had to participate. Of course, Sir Eddy's family was also present.
Even more interestingly, Jones never directly mentioned Su Xiao. Clearly, he was also an old fox, both building an image of loyalty and righteousness while avoiding completely offending Su Xiao.
Sobbing came from the observer's bench. No need to guess—it was Sir Eddy's family. Their only task today was to cry, cry until they could survive. They all knew in their hearts that once the hidden truths were exposed, they would all die.
"Silence."
Harold's voice wasn't loud, but the arbitration chamber immediately quieted down. His gaze shifted to Councilor Leopold.
Leopold slightly raised his head, his hooked nose making him look somewhat rigid and gloomy.
"Your Majesty, I propose that Vice Legion Commander Kukulin be acquitted and released."
With that, Councilor Leopold sat back down. Across from him, more than ten meters away, Councilor Jones stared at him in surprise.
Murmurs erupted from the observer's bench. In the last row, Bonnie fixed her gaze on Councilor Leopold. She keenly noticed one thing: Councilor Leopold wanted Su Xiao dead.