My outcry plunged the gallery into silence.
Everyone wore the same stunned expression.
Despite their shock, no one even dared to breathe.
Because I had suddenly invoked the Emperor’s authority.
The farm owner’s face went past pale into a deathly blackish hue.
“Y-y-y-your Honor, how could I!”
“If your intentions weren’t so filthy, why would you give false testimony?”
“No! I had no such intention at all!”
His eyes started darting like mad.
He was desperately hunting for an excuse.
What came out of his mouth, though, sounded fairly plausible.
“I went to the temple for treatment. But because of the aftereffects, I was wearing the bandage!”
Heads nodded around the room.
As if to say, then it makes sense.
But my doubts didn’t clear at all.
“You claimed you couldn’t pay wages because you had no money. Yet you received expensive sacred healing? With what money?”
“E-emergency savings!”
“Fine. Then when did you go to the temple?”
“Um… two days ago.”
“Summon the clergy. The one who treated him, the one who manages offerings, and the temple’s overseer. All three.”
At that steel-edged order, even the prosecutor froze.
He had never imagined I would issue a command like that.
So for a moment he did nothing.
I shouted at them again.
“Move at once!”
THUD!
I slammed the gavel hard, and a boom rang out.
One of the prosecutors scurried out of the courtroom at once.
I sent the farm owner back to his place and folded my arms.
“While we wait, shall we recess?”
Joseph whispered smoothly at my side. Likely how things would go in a Korean court, too.
You can’t just sit stiffly and wait forever.
But I shook my head.
“No. We wait like this. If the prosecutor dithers, he’ll be the first I punish.”
The toady Joseph, the farm owner, and even the prosecutor.
They were all in on it.
They had no interest in discovering the substantive truth.
Whether wage laborer Paul suffered injustice or not, they only cared about lining their pockets.
I didn’t know why they’d go that far, but one thing was certain.
I will set justice upright.
Time slipped by helplessly.
Before long the prosecutor returned with three clergy.
And the truth was laid bare for all to see.
“Baron Parbiant never received sacred healing. As proof, we submit a week’s record of offerings.”
This was a trial where even the Emperor’s authority had been invoked.
Even a corrupt cleric would have had to step back.
Not that I was saying this person was corrupt.
That seemed unlikely.
Not only did he submit evidence, he clearly did his utmost in his answers.
“The evidence is admitted, and the testimonies have been confirmed consistent.”
The gallery erupted in murmurs.
“What does that mean—fake treatment?”
“They’re saying he never received it at all.”
BANG BANG BANG!
“Order.”
The courtroom fell silent as the gavel struck.
I called to the farm owner in a grave voice.
“How dare you seek to insult the lofty Imperial Court—on top of that, commit sacrilege?”
“Y-y-y… th-that’s not… No! That’s not how it happened!”
Sweat poured down Baron Parbiant’s forehead like rain.
I pinned him with a frosty stare.
“Are you still lying?”
“…No.”
His head drooped, all strength gone.
He had nothing left to say.
I looked over the assembly.
Eyes brimming with expectation.
Yet even now a few faces were twisted in displeasure.
Those dressed in expensive, ornate clothes.
They seemed anxious about an unfavorable judgment.
Because it would strike directly at their interests.
Too bad. I’ll judge as I believe right.
I clenched the gavel’s handle.
That was when it happened.
Joseph, the judge on my right, leaned in to whisper again.
“Your Honor, Baron Parbiant belongs to the Sierre noble faction. If you impose a harsh penalty…”
“And?”
“I fear the bench may face difficulties.”
A hollow laugh almost slipped out.
Because the faction he belonged to wielded great power, I should go easy?
That was the gist.
Human society always has classes, and high status enjoys privilege.
But in principle, all should be equal before the law.
Hearing him makes me want to show even less mercy.
With that thought, I reached my conclusion.
“I will pronounce. For lack of sufficient evidence, the defendant Paul is acquitted. Furthermore, we open an investigation into the farm owner.”
“…!”
People were aghast, but they didn’t speak yet.
Because I hadn’t finished.
“Charges: wage nonpayment, bodily injury, and insult to Imperial authority.”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
As I struck the gavel in steady rhythm, the courtroom exploded into chaos.
Noble protests went up first.
But the shouts of the wage laborers who had come to observe drowned out everything.
“WAAAAAH!”
“Paul! You’re saved!”
“Your Grace Carius! Thank you—sob!”
They bowed repeatedly to me as I withdrew.
As if a real god had descended.
Frankly, it bordered on fanaticism.
In this mood, they would have believed anything I said.
So it means there have been that few proper judgments.
A bitter truth.
Then my eyes locked with a cluster of well-dressed elites.
They must have been nobles from that Sierre something faction.
Menacing. Those eyes alone could kill. This is unsettling—maybe I should take this, at least.
I slipped the gavel into my robe.
It was made of metal, quite sturdy.
Perfect as an emergency weapon.
Small, but more than enough to crack a skull.
Leaving the courtroom, I walked slowly down the corridor.
I was trying to jog my memory.
Because I didn’t know where my office was.
“Will you be going straight home today, Your Honor?”
A judge who’d been silent till now addressed me.
He had bold features and a heavy jaw.
I focused on him, and a hologram screen popped up.
The content resembled Joseph’s, but the mood was entirely different.
He’s a million times better.
A taciturn type, you might say.
Far more likable than a sycophant.
“No more items on the docket?”
“The Parbiant assault case was the last.”
“Then let’s stop by the office.”
“Yes, I’ll escort you.”
We fell into step naturally.
Judge Emir would guide me.
Trailing behind him, I soon found the office.
As I reached for the doorknob, Judge Emir spoke up.
“Excellent work at today’s trial, Your Honor.”
“Hm?”
“It was a judgment that will serve as a model for the judiciary.”
He bent at a full ninety degrees.
High praise from someone so stone-faced felt oddly gratifying.
Truthfully, I hadn’t done much.
“Think nothing of it. Thank you for your efforts.”
Inside, I sat and surveyed the desk.
A plain workspace with a few sheets of paper and a calendar.
It’s Friday. So I rest all weekend?
I rifled through the papers at once.
But it was all useless stuff like prison status reports.
Nothing to be learned here.
“Your Grace Carius, the carriage is prepared.”
After a short while, Kolund Emir’s voice came.
I rose and stepped out of the office.
Very useful guy. By the way, people keep calling me Your Grace Carius.
As I walked the corridor, my face reflected in a window.
And at that moment—
Name: Abel Carius
Status: Duke
Position: High Judge
A hologram screen blinked up.
Likely my own information.
Wait—Duke? No wonder they kept calling me Your Grace.
Honestly, nothing else registered.
I stared into space for a while.
Even though I was acting oddly, Judge Emir didn’t twitch.
He simply waited in silence.
“Ahem! Sorry. Let’s go.”
“Yes.”
When I hurried my steps with a cough, he finally moved.
That weighty steadiness was pleasing.
“Travel safely home, Your Grace.”
“Right. Enjoy your weekend.”
“Thank you.”
Seated in the carriage, I sank into deep thought.
Clutching my pounding heart, I worked my mind furiously.
What is all this…
From suddenly presiding over a trial to the fact that my status was duke.
Nothing about it was normal.
But the thundering heartbeat soon settled.
I accepted reality with surprising speed.
Perhaps my will had strengthened upon taking over Abel’s body.
I did show reckless bravado in court.
The Sierre noble faction’s power seemed immense.
Joseph had warned me endlessly.
If he did that even though I was a duke…
They must have terrifying clout.
I felt a twinge of intimidation, but shook my head.
In an empire, a duke means imperial blood, doesn’t it?
If needed, I could borrow the Emperor’s authority again.
A moment later, the carriage door opened and someone bowed.
CLACK!
“Greetings, Your Grace.”
Name: Miller Xavierre
Rank: Baronet
Role: Steward
Loyalty: Low
Status: Ennui, anxious
A man with neatly combed brown hair and a monocle.
I knew he was the steward the moment I saw him.
Because that’s the first thing I read in his profile.
But instead of “Relation,” a new tab appeared.
Loyalty, huh. Because he’s one of mine. But why is it so low?
It was odd.
Questions bubbled up, but I stepped out of the carriage first.
The mansion’s facade came into full view.
Whoa.
An exclamation nearly escaped me.
That was how grand and beautiful the estate was.
Gardens and a pond lay between splendid buildings.
As I walked the well-kept paths, servants lined up to greet me.
“Welcome, Your Grace the Duke Carius.”
Their extreme courtesy made my face feel hot.
Returning their bows, I quickened my steps.
The steward opened a door.
It was the dining room, and dinner was already prepared.
Seated at the end of the long table, I stared blankly at the dishes.
A maid came and served me small portions one by one.
What a luxury…
How often do you see something like this in a lifetime?
Dozens of dishes set out for me alone.
On elegant silver trays, with attendants to serve.
It was enough to make my eyes spin.
To hell with it. I’m hungry—eat first.
But just as I lifted a sauce-glazed chunk of meat to my mouth—
RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE!
A sudden commotion rose outside the dining room.
Then came the sounds of people hurrying about.
“Hm?”
“Shall I go check?”
Tilting my head, I heard the maid speak.
I was about to answer without thinking, then stood up instead.
No special reason.
I just wanted to see for myself.
“No. I’ll do it.”
I retraced my steps and opened the dining room door.
People were gathered in a corner of the garden.
I approached them and spoke.
“What is it?”
“You’re here, Your Grace. It is nothing.”
“It looks serious. Speak plainly.”
“Um… Tavion, who was working in the wheat fields, has died.”
Only then did I notice what the workers were surrounding.
A human shape under a yellow cloth.
“Ah!”
I couldn’t suppress a groan.
Truthfully, I didn’t know him at all.
I had only just arrived at the mansion; how could I know who was who?
Even so, my heart clenched.
I came from the land of death by overwork.
He died working. How can that not be pitiful?
Right then the steward approached, and I spoke.
“Steward Xavierre.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“See to Tavion’s funeral, and pay compensation to his family.”
“…!”
The mood froze over in an instant.
Why the sudden chill? Did I say something wrong?