Chapter 90: The Supreme Court
The carriage wheels screeched softly as they rolled to a halt.
Outside, the Supreme Court of Bloodstone City rose like a marble colossus. Morning light gilded its circular walls, spilling over carved pillars and intricate murals. The air itself seemed heavier near the gate—disciplined, expectant. A row of red-uniformed officers stood guard, rifles slung across their shoulders, faces carved from stone.
"Carriage can't go beyond the fence, sir," Toby murmured from the driver's seat.
Raven leaned forward, eyes scanning the glittering iron gate. "Stop here. I'll walk."
The carriage eased to a stop by the roadside. Raven pushed open the door and paused. "Toby, wait outside. I need a moment with Jacob."
The boy nodded quickly and stepped away.
The door closed behind him with a soft click. Inside the dim cabin, Raven turned to Jacob, his tone level and measured. "Take Toby. Scout this place—guards, supervisors, entry records, patrol routes, even the cleaning schedules. If someone breathes near this court after dark, I want to know."
Jacob's brow arched. "That's… oddly specific." He hesitated, studying Raven's face. "You didn't come to the capital for sightseeing, did you, my lord?"
Raven's smile flickered like a knife glinting in shadow. "You'll learn when the time's right."
Selene's gaze lingered on him, her fingers tracing the edge of her cloak. He never moves without a reason. Even in silence, Raven was calculating, always two steps ahead.
When he stepped out, the sunlight brushed his face, soft but fleeting.
Through the carriage window, Selene watched him exchange quiet words with Toby near the gate. The boy nodded solemnly and vanished into the crowd.
"I can't read him," she murmured.
Jacob's voice came low and certain. "Don't try to. Just watch—and if things turn ugly, keep your distance."
"Distance?" She frowned. "Aren't we supposed to protect him?"
He nodded toward the crimson wall of officers. "Those aren't ordinary guards. Expert-rank Walkers. That bald one with the twin-star badge? Commander of the Court Guard."
Selene's eyes tracked the man—broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, his very presence bending the air. "He's beyond the Expert Realm," she whispered.
"Exactly." Jacob adjusted his cuffs. "So don't play hero."
Raven had already joined the slow-moving line at the gate. Each entrant was searched and scanned; even spatial rings were inspected.
Thorough, he thought, watching as a merchant's storage ring was pried open by an officer's rune-lit baton. They're even afraid of what people carry in their pockets.
When his turn came, a red-haired officer stepped forward, parchment in hand. "Name and purpose."
"Thomas Holmes. I came to attend the hearing of Convict Shirley for the Royal Princess kidnapping case."
The officer blinked. "You're serious?"
"I am."
The man exhaled a disbelieving laugh. "You're the first one who wants to watch that circus. Good luck, boy."
Raven gave a polite nod and walked past.
Inside the gate, the world shifted.
The Supreme Court wasn't a building—it was an empire carved from stone. White pillars coiled upward like frozen lightning. Fountains flung arcs of crystal water into the air. Uniformed guards patrolled with mechanical precision, boots clicking in rhythm. High above, the twin-serpent banner of the Empire rippled in the wind.
Nobles in velvet coats and lawyers in black robes strode along the marble paths, their voices weaving through the crisp air like murmurs of power.
Raven slowed before the grand entrance. "Selene," he said quietly, "we're going in."
Jacob split off with Toby toward the administrative wing, already flipping open his notebook.
Inside, the Court breathed authority. Every sound—every whisper—was swallowed by the vastness of the hall. Lawyers argued in low voices beneath gilded arches. Guards watched from every corner, hands resting near their blades.
The scent of ink, candle wax, and old parchment hung heavy in the air.
Selene's eyes darted from painting to painting—ancient judges with hollow eyes, scales raised like threats rather than symbols. "I didn't realize justice looked so… cold."
Raven's tone was mild.
"There are four levels of court. The lower ones handle theft and disputes. The High Court deals with criminal matters and administrative issues. But this…" His gaze lingered on the grand staircase ahead. "…This is where they judge the nation's fate."
He paused, fingers curling into a glove. Once the Chief Judge gives his verdict on Aunt Shirley… no one—not even the Emperor—can reverse it.
[So even the throne bows to parchment?]
Zera's voice coiled through his thoughts, cold and curious.
[Tell me, Raven. How many of these men are mortals?]
Raven's eyes swept the corridor. Every person radiated mana—subtle, disciplined, unmistakable. Even the clerks carried the aura of trained Walkers.
None.
[So much for "rule of the people,"] Zera sneered. [The Alliance owns this court, not the Empire.]
Raven said nothing. He didn't need to. The truth weighed heavier than the marble walls around him.
The corridor opened into the hearing chamber—a sanctum of light and judgment.
Hundreds of chandeliers scattered golden light across the dome. Magic glimmers danced along the carved runes etched into the walls. At the heart stood seven thrones of justice, arranged in a crescent. The central seat, elevated by a single step, gleamed with the Empire's sigil—a coiled serpent devouring its tail.
The audience benches curved outward in rings, from velvet-lined seats of nobles to the plain wooden ones in the back. Few were filled.
The air itself seemed tired.
Raven and Selene took their seats among the crowd.
The defendant stood within a rune-laced cage—an old wizard, trembling, his eyes hollow. The court clerk's voice rang through the hall, reading charges of smuggling enchanted potions from the Main Continent.
Selene leaned close. "Smuggling? That's a County Court matter."
Raven's eyes stayed on the defendant. "Not when the smuggler's a wizard. The Wizard Act of 845 treats that as treason."
"Death… for trade?" she whispered.
"That's how monopolies breathe," Raven murmured. His gaze flicked to the golden banners. And how the Alliance tightens its leash.
[If they outlaw trade, what else do they control?] Zera's tone was thoughtful now. [Knowledge? Magic itself?]
[If you share your potion formula with Judith, they might use this law to destroy you.]
Raven's jaw tensed. Then I'll move before they can.
Hours passed. One case after another, all the same. Guilt was proclaimed before the argument began. Punishments were decided before words were spoken.
Even when an Archduke's cousin was accused of plotting against the Crown Prince, the verdict arrived like a hammer blow—instant, absolute.
'A puppet show,' Raven thought.
'And they call it justice.'
When the final gavel struck and the next trial date was announced, Raven rose. "We're leaving."
Selene followed, glancing at him. "You're not staying for the Princess's kidnapping hearing?"
"It'll be no different," he said. "They'll bring out the defendant only on the final day—"
He stopped.
A voice cracked through the crowd—raw, desperate.
"Please, Sir Beckham, I've given you everything! All my savings, even borrowed gold! Please, save my sister!"
The woman's black hair shimmered beneath the light, her eyes burning like blue glass despite the exhaustion shadowing her face.
The advocate she pleaded to—a grey-haired man—only sighed. "It's not about payment, Madam Jeanne. The Royal Family is involved. If I stand against them, my family dies."
Raven froze.
'Royal Family?'
He tapped his monocle.
…
[Name: Jeanne
Age: 45
Nationality: Zenith Empire
Title: 24th Concubine
Class: Official Walker (Rank-1), Fifth Circle
Health: Normal
Current Status: Worried
Attributes — Strength: 1.9 | Agility: 1.8 | Vitality: 1.9 | Luck: 1.5 | Spirit: 1.5
Skills — Shadow Walk, Stealth
Affinity — Darkness (Low)]
…
[Oh? That woman… she's your mother, isn't she?] Zera whispered.
Raven didn't answer.
In his mind, there were only two family members left—his sister and the aunt standing trial.
The woman before him was a memory carved from someone else's life. Someone he no longer was.
Even so… a flicker of warmth broke through the years of cold.
He exhaled. The sound was almost a sigh. "Haa… I should go."
He turned away, leaving her voice behind him in the echoing hall.
Outside, sunlight spilt like molten gold across the steps—but it felt cold against his skin.
Jacob and Toby waited by the carriage.
None of them spoke as they rode away, the white dome of the Supreme Court shrinking in the distance.