Chapter 103: The Corrupt Priest’s Trial

That injury was definitely not recent.

It must have been from bones shattering into pieces as a child, or the result of childhood paralysis.

So that’s why Duke Giovanni called him his most painful finger.

Now, I felt like I fully understood that man’s feelings.

Perhaps because of Enrique’s pronounced limp as he walked, the reactions from the gallery had noticeably changed.

“Even with a body like that, he tries to serve the gods. He might be surprisingly admirable.”

“Yeah. His life itself must be an ascetic practice.”

“The defendant’s son might not have been left to die on purpose.”

“There must have been some unavoidable circumstances.”

Unlike with the arson murderer Bassett, their gazes were not of pity but of respect.

Seeming aware of those looks, Enrique Giovanni simply sat in silence.

His bowed head made him appear tormented.

“We will now begin the trial regarding the death during plague treatment. Salute to the presiding judge.”

The entire courtroom saluted me.

Everyone wearing masks and white overcoats made it feel strangely eerie.

Like observing a cult of fanatics?

My mind is a mess.

This unsettled feeling was probably due to the defendant’s identity.

Looking purely at the facts, it was a simple matter.

I just needed to verify if he demanded an additional 200 goldens and prove Enrique Giovanni’s divine power.

“Begin the proceedings.”

I said while staring at the prosecutor, then immediately flipped through the trial documents.

I was checking once more in case I’d missed something.

But I didn’t find anything unusual.

“Then, I’ll begin the questioning.”

The prosecutor in court today was Corbin Sears.

What was he called these days?

The Mad Dog?

A nickname for biting anyone relentlessly, no matter who.

There was no trace of the clumsy appearance from our first meeting.

He was firing sharp questions throughout.

“The defendant clearly received 50 goldens as treatment fee. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not short on money, so why demand an additional 200 goldens? Do you have a grudge against the victim’s family?”

“Not at all. I did my best to bestow divine power. Despite my impaired body, I visited for several days.”

“Then, why did the patient die?”

“…I didn’t realize how exhausted I was. Even a devout priest has limits to exerting divine power.”

Enrique’s claim was this:

While treating the plague victim without rest, his divine power eventually stopped flowing.

“Then, is there a record of treating others before the victim’s death?”

“Here is the money received and the list. You can call them as witnesses.”

Enrique answered without hesitation.

He seemed quite thoroughly prepared.

However, Prosecutor Sears was no pushover.

He insisted on verifying even seemingly credible documents to the end.

“I request these listed individuals as witnesses.”

“Granted. How long will it take?”

“I can bring them all in one hour.”

There were at least over ten people.

Yet, only one hour?

It seemed odd, but I nodded readily.

If Corbin Sears couldn’t fetch the witnesses?

We could just postpone the trial date and issue subpoenas.

“We will recess for one hour.”

I stood from the bench and bowed to the gallery.

Then, I entered the waiting room.

When the appointed time came, surprisingly, all witnesses appeared in court.

“There are twelve in total.”

“Not prepared in advance, yet remarkably quick.”

“Isolation hasn’t been lifted yet, so it was easy. They were all gathered in one place.”

I nodded with a satisfied expression.

Oh? He’s grown a lot.

This deserved praise.

But private conversations weren’t allowed in court.

“You’ve worked hard. Begin questioning the witnesses.”

“Yes!”

Prosecutor Sears launched an aggressive line of questions with gleaming eyes.

But the evidence and testimonies all matched.

Enrique hadn’t lied at all.

Then, the defense attorney grew emboldened.

“I’ll ask the witnesses. Has anyone experienced worsening symptoms after receiving Priest Giovanni’s divine treatment?”

“And those who improved?”

When the second question was asked, all twelve raised their hands high.

“If anyone was asked for more money, please keep your hands up.”

This time, the witnesses lowered their arms simultaneously.

The defense attorney even verified the dates in the ledger.

Then, with a triumphant smile, he concluded his argument.

“That is all.”

Corbin Sears couldn’t help but feel anxious.

This would prove the victim’s claim false.

Naturally, Enrique’s punishment would lighten.

Murder and negligent homicide carried entirely different weights.

But there was no way to prove intent.

A look of resignation appeared on Prosecutor Sears’ face.

But why do I still have lingering questions?

In all my trials so far, I’d never predetermined the answer in my mind.

Well, there was one time.

When dealing with Skyler Sierre.

That guy had slithered out of a confirmed sentence like an eel.

My intent to remain neutral was the same now.

If Enrique hadn’t demanded money and had done his best for the patient?

A very light sentence would be imposed.

In some cases, I could even grant probation with great leniency.

But something seemed off to my eyes.

So, even after all answers were given, I didn’t dismiss the witnesses.

“I’ll ask a question. Who was the last to receive treatment?”

“I think it was me.”

One witness, who had been looking around, raised a hand.

I opened the ledger among the admitted evidence.

“One week ago?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“It seems treatment was given to one person each day for 12 days. Is that correct, defendant?”

Thrown the question suddenly, Enrique startled and replied.

He hadn’t expected to be called upon abruptly.

“Yes? Yes.”

“The victim was met four days ago and died three days ago. So, there’s a three-day gap from the last treated witness?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t divine power recover in that time?”

“…”

Enrique couldn’t respond at all.

What had he claimed until now?

That he was so diligent he became exhausted and couldn’t exert divine power.

“This is very strange. This case has many doubts. The prosecution shall investigate the defendant’s unrecorded actions. The next trial date… will be Thursday.”

“Yes!”

Prosecutor Sears answered vigorously.

He must have found a clue in what I just said.

I’d given him plenty of time to investigate.

I left the courtroom without showing any emotion.

A few days later, the investigation results came in.

“Priest Enrique Giovanni performed treatments for three consecutive days before meeting the victim. He couldn’t exert divine power then either.”

“Then, why didn’t those victims’ families appear in court?”

“They agreed to settle with compensation.”

“…”

“Did he demand money then?”

“No. Like the last victim, Mr. Braisen, he asked for an additional 200 goldens.”

“He took the money, yet they still died?”

“Yes. According to the victims’ testimonies, they couldn’t find any other clergy at all.”

With this, Enrique Giovanni’s guilt was confirmed.

Demanding large sums with lives as collateral, accepting treatment requests despite inability to exert divine power.

The foreseeability of patient deaths seemed sufficient.

And the testimonies didn’t stop there.

“Wait a moment!”

A group burst through the courtroom doors.

Prosecutor Corbin Sears stood before them with a grin.

“These are people who lost family due to Enrique Giovanni. I request them as witnesses.”

Testimonies from old cases were hard to trust.

Human memory distorts over time.

But this was different.

All plague deaths were recorded, and divine treatments left evidence.

“We didn’t even get settlement money!”

“As a believer in Aramid, he said we must endure it and suppressed us with authority.”

“Plus, being from the Giovanni family, we couldn’t say anything back then.”

Thus, Enrique Giovanni’s new crimes were revealed.

The confirmed victims alone numbered a whopping 50.

By now, the gallery’s reaction had completely flipped from the start.

“What on earth was he thinking, accepting treatment requests?”

“If it seemed impossible, he should have referred to another priest.”

“He exploited the situation where no other clergy could be found.”

“How can such a shameless person exist?”

“You really can’t judge people by appearances. Everyone pitied him at first.”

“Ahem! Well, yes.”

Now, there was no need to worry about public opinion.

The gallery’s chatter didn’t influence the verdict anyway.

I judged based solely on proven facts and evidence.

“Wait, doesn’t this mean Duke Carius uncovered the truth?”

“Yes! He precisely supplemented what the prosecutor missed.”

“How is his insight so sharp? This happened before too.”

“Yeah. With that arsonist who acted with kids.”

Of course, such praise slightly swayed my heart.

But it had nothing to do with the trial’s direction.

It’s a voice that makes me feel more mission-driven in this work.

Chasing popularity alone could lead astray.

The path the masses want isn’t always right.

However, such positive stimuli helped reinforce my convictions.

“I will pronounce the sentence. Demanding valuables with human lives as collateral, among other things, the nature of the crime is deemed extremely grave. Defendant Enrique Giovanni is found guilty of murder and sentenced to 50 years imprisonment. Additionally, a fine of 3,000 goldens is imposed. This will be used for victim relief.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Unlike usual, it was a somewhat lengthy judgment.

There were so many points to address.

“Nooooo! No!”

Enrique’s scream echoed through the courtroom.

But his outburst didn’t last long.

The court knights swarmed and restrained him with shackles.

Duke Giovanni, seated in the gallery, simply closed his eyes tightly.

Did that man know all about his son’s circumstances?

The thought crossed my mind briefly, but I didn’t dwell on it.

Enrique Giovanni’s commission of grave sins was now certain.

With his past atrocities exposed before so many, what resistance could there be?

It would only further tarnish the Giovanni family’s honor.

I left the courtroom with a composed face.

“This should keep the Aramid Church from complaining.”

The evidence was clearly revealed.

They probably wouldn’t dare voice dissatisfaction.

From the church’s perspective, nothing is more feared than losing believers’ trust.

I hurried to wrap up work.

The afternoon trial was a simple theft case, no need to argue in court.

The defendant admitted fault and only sought leniency.

Nothing unusual here.

I imposed a relatively light sentence.

He’d just drunkenly taken someone else’s shop sign.

Six months imprisonment with one year probation should suffice.

After the verdict, I immediately prepared to leave.

I needed to request the soap experiment from Princess Eustia before she left.

But then, absurd news arrived.

“Pr-Presiding Judge!”

Judge Colrund Emir burst into the office.

His usual dignified demeanor gone, he fussed like Josef.

Seeing him like that made me feel uneasy.

As expected, ominous predictions never miss.

“His Majesty the Emperor declares he will punish the clergy’s misconduct!”

“…”

Wait a minute.

You damn cousin?

This makes it look like the royals conspired again!