The courtroom was located outside the imperial palace, with excellent natural lighting thanks to a circular dome in the roof that allowed sunlight to pour into the hall.
In theory, the defendant and plaintiff were supposed to sit around this ring of light.
The Emperor, however, sat even higher than the judges, originally intending to look directly down upon the accused.
Unfortunately, no one had accounted for the judges’ unusually tall stature.
When the Emperor arrived, he discovered that the only way to see Richard clearly was to stand.
For a moment, no one could find anything to raise His Majesty’s seat higher, so the Emperor simply stood, gazing down at Richard.
Yet standing wasn’t so bad.
In his imagination, he now resembled a heavenly judge passing sentence on sinners.
As Emperor of the Empire, he was already the supreme arbiter of the realm, so standing perfectly suited his dignity.
The vast courtroom was packed with people.
Originally, the Emperor had intended to allow only the nobility inside—the fewer, the better.
But things rarely went as planned.
Wasn’t it only natural for nobles to bring relatives?
And for those relatives to bring friends—no one could object to that, could they?
Thus, when the Emperor entered the courtroom, it was not the quiet, solemn chamber resembling a senate that he had envisioned.
Instead, it was a courtroom crammed full of people, more like an opera house.
He did not see the legendary daughter of the Dread Dragon—that evil dragon said to resemble her father.
Rumor had it she was covered in rust-colored scales, with sharp protruding fangs, half-human and half-dragon, capable of devouring an entire live pig in one gulp—starting from the rear, because she enjoyed hearing the pig’s dying screams.
The Emperor of the Yanting Empire believed every word of it.
Even when he heard counter-rumors claiming the evil dragon’s daughter was named Aurina and appeared as an adorably cute little girl, he didn’t believe a single syllable.
Standing in his elevated position overlooking most of the hall, he still did not spot Aurina.
All he saw, in the seats behind Richard, was a rather beautiful priestess, and beside her, a figure covered with a large piece of sailcloth.
Only the outline was visible—and a dragon tail.
Her identity was obvious: she must be the one who liked to start eating live pigs from their hindquarters.
The moment he thought of that dragon—that filthy, lecherous devil who had defiled his beloved daughter—rage surged through the Emperor’s entire body.
At this moment, the Emperor of the Yanting Empire wished he could clamp an iron spiked collar around that evil dragon’s neck, then summon his new ally, Frostsilver, to inject agonizing potions straight into her veins.
Only by thoroughly taming this dragon and riding her daughter into battle, making her bleed and fight for him, could the nightmares that woke him screaming in the middle of the night finally cease.
The Emperor had been extremely confident about this trial.
His legal team consisted of twelve seasoned scribes and litigators.
The initial failure of the accusation from Larrifa Manor had meant nothing—it had been entirely foreseeable.
As an emperor destined to be remembered by history as a wise and exemplary ruler, remaining calm in the face of inevitable setbacks was a basic requirement.
Future generations would surely marvel at his composure.
Besides, Thousand-Crow Eye’s operation had been a resounding success.
It had allowed the followers of the Goddess of Dawn to send a designated unlucky noble straight to the gallows.
Even more successfully, it had instantly made every noble in the land aware that a terrifying organization plotting against the Empire had secretly united—not only to overthrow the throne but to replace the nobility entirely.
Only he, the emperor destined to become a wise ruler, could lead them to victory.
Having convinced himself of this, the Emperor of the Yanting Empire accused Richard with full vigor.
Even the colorful stained-glass windows of the courtroom seemed to tremble slightly before his imposing figure.
Yet unexpectedly, the accusation went wrong from the very start.
If anyone was to blame, it was that eccentric knightly noble—they had searched for half a day just to find the thinnest thread of kinship.
The audience burst into murmurs, openly commenting that the relation was far too distant.
The judges had to take turns banging their gavels before the courtroom finally quieted down.
The verbal battle resumed.
Amid the tense atmosphere, the Emperor’s proxy rose—a Mediterranean-looking old man whose loud, aggressive voice proclaimed his professional litigator status:
“Your Excellency Richard, your actions have long surpassed ordinary lawbreaking and directly challenged the authority of the Empire and the sanctity of its laws.”
“Not only did you use ecclesiastical law to privately execute so-called justice, putting to death a distant relative of His Majesty the Emperor, you even boldly claimed it was righteous.This is not merely an insult to royal blood—it is a challenge to the Empire’s entire ruling order.”
“Honored judges and everyone present,” Richard began his rebuttal, “first, regarding the ‘imperial relative’ I executed, I must point out that his crimes were countless, and his fief lay outside imperial territory, beyond the protection of imperial law.
“What I carried out there was the will of the local people, decided by a local jury—it has nothing to do with imperial law.”
“As for the so-called rebellion against imperial rule, I ask everyone here: is upholding justice and fairness truly rebellion?”
The audience erupted into discussion once more.
Everyone had heard of Black Boar Pete’s atrocities and how the executed knightly noble had shielded him.
They also understood that under kingdom law, that knight might not even have gone to prison, let alone been executed.
If imperial law existed to protect such people, did it deserve support?
The Mediterranean proxy paid little heed—the so-called distant imperial relative was obviously just a pretext.
Perhaps only a follower of Tyr like Richard would travel thousands of miles by ship just to litigate over such a flimsy excuse.
The Mediterranean proxy continued, “As we understand it, you owe His Majesty an enormous debt—fifty thousand gold coins.”
“That is because you utterly failed to value the princess’s life, causing her to die in a manner utterly unworthy of her noble status, thereby violating our agreement.”
Richard, who had been listening intently, darkened his expression at these words.
The Mediterranean proxy paused dramatically for effect before continuing:
“Yet now you show no intention of repayment.
According to imperial law, His Majesty has the right to demand equivalent collateral to secure the debt.
Using spoils from the dragon’s lair as collateral is perfectly reasonable, and the daughter of the Dread Dragon is one such spoil—an appropriate and logical choice.”
Since Your Excellency claims some divine law supersedes secular law,“then as the first victim of the Dread Dragon, His Majesty should receive the Dread Dragon’s daughter.She should fight for the Emperor, bleed for the Empire until death, to repay her father’s sins.”
“I happen to have read some texts of the Church of Tyr, and there is one line I particularly like: an eye for an eye, blood for blood—the child pays the father’s debt.”
The courtroom instantly erupted into loud discussion.
The judges exchanged glances.
The citizens of the capital had all seen the Dread Dragon; the terror he left in their hearts was deeply engraved.
If his daughter fought for the Empire to repay that debt, it sounded perfectly just.
Aurina, sleeping soundly beneath the sailcloth, merely shifted position slightly when she heard her name, then continued snoring HUUU… HUUU….
She had eaten too much on the way here and now only wanted to sleep properly.
Even if there were a pile of gold in front of her, she would sleep first and count later.
Much less this boring, meaningless insect ritual called “trial.”
Richard stood, his face growing colder and harder.
He raised the debt contract and waved it, his voice echoing clearly and firmly throughout the courtroom:
“Your so-called debt is based on a false premise.
According to the explicitly signed agreement between both parties, the repayment deadline is three years from the date of signing—and that deadline has not yet arrived.”
“I do not know whether the honorable proxy of His Majesty simply forgot to check the calendar or deliberately ignored this fact.”
Then, turning to look at Aurina beneath the sailcloth, Richard continued:
“And most importantly—my companion Aurina is not an object, not property that can be used to repay debt..She is my partner, an individual with rights and dignity. She has inherited nothing from the father she never met, and therefore she should not inherit his debts either.”
“Our relationship is built on mutual respect and trust.”
“I will resolve the debt issue within the stipulated time—but not by sacrificing an innocent life.
Her freedom and dignity are inviolable.”
Aurina continued sleeping like the dead, not moving an inch.
In her dream, little insects lined up in neat rows like ants, carrying sack after sack of gold coins out of the palace and into her new dragon lair, piling them at the foot of her towering mountain of treasure.
That mountain of wealth was so enormous and thick that even if she turned into her dragon form and rolled back and forth across it, she would only sink into soft, warm gold.
Dreaming sweetly, she smacked her lips and muttered in her sleep: “Pack beasts… hurry and cook for this king…”
In the dream, with a single command,
the “social services” stationed not far from the dragon lair sprang into action.
Little insects scurried from the harbor carrying all sorts of delicious spices.
Richard was wholeheartedly cooking for her, the fire burning bright and fierce…
The courtroom’s murmurs grew even louder, now tinged with genuine controversy.
Some people, moved by Richard’s words, stood up and applauded passionately—perhaps thinking of those who had been treated as mere trade goods.
Though the applauders were not many, to the Emperor their clapping was exceptionally grating.
His own legal team was utterly useless—they hadn’t even managed to make the courtroom applaud for their emperor.
Was this truly the best argument his twelve-person team could come up with?
They only needed to say it this way or that way, and Richard would be effortlessly crushed!
The Emperor inwardly cursed the Mediterranean proxy as hopelessly incompetent—how had someone of this level even been recommended?
The Mediterranean proxy exchanged a glance with his colleague—just as they had anticipated.
His colleague slipped him a prepared note of rebuttal.
The proxy was about to counter from the angle of Richard wanting to impose ecclesiastical law, pointing out that some ecclesiastical rules were deeply unpopular, such as alcohol restrictions or limits on flesh trading—if pushed to extremes, they became outright prohibition of wine and all beauty…
The Mediterranean proxy stood with the script in hand, ready to speak.
“Sit down.”
The Emperor of the Yanting Empire waved his hand.
“I will handle this!”
“But Your Majesty—”
“Do you not understand a command?”
The Mediterranean proxy sat.
The Emperor pointed directly at Richard and declared:
“You keep talking about freedom and dignity, yet you are raising a man-eating, greed-obsessed evil dragon!”
As a dragon-slaying hero, there is no way you are unaware of what she is—covered in scales, hideously ugly, fangs dripping with blood!
Tell us—how many homes has she burned on your journey, how many people has she robbed, how many has she eaten?
And you claim to keep her for the sake of justice?
Ridiculous!
Isn’t it simply so your church can expand its territory by raising a dragon?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, someone began applauding.
The Emperor lifted his chin, feeling like the arbiter who consigns souls to hell, having exposed Richard as the scheming hypocrite he truly was.
Richard repeated slowly: “Covered in scales… hideously ugly?”
“Yes, she is a monster!” the Emperor proclaimed. “How many monsters have you slain, only to now defend another? Hypocrite!”
The courtroom’s uproar reached its peak:
“That’s right, she’s a monster! Just because a monster can speak doesn’t make it any less a monster!”
“Trolls can speak too, and they eat people.
Slay dragons only to raise an evil one—heh, all for war, isn’t it?”
“But… I heard she’s not actually like that…”
Richard stepped out of his seat, walked to Aurina’s side, and with one strong pull yanked away the sailcloth.
Beneath it lay Aurina, still snoring HUUU… HUUU… in deep sleep.
“Everyone, look closely—is the daughter of the Dread Dragon a monster?”
Every single person in the courtroom stood up, some even standing on tiptoes, leaning forward eagerly to see.
There, with soft waist-length red hair and an adorably cute face, dressed all in white, a little girl lay sprawled asleep on the desk.
Those in the front rows instinctively held their breath, unwilling to wake this lovely creature.
Those in the back kept trying to push down the heads in front of them, desperate for another glimpse of Aurina.