Mako reacted as quickly as he could.
The vanguard guards collapsed, wounded, as the crowd began to panic.
Mako swiftly moved to stand beside the queen.
"A lapdog of the royalty?" Sir Arthur II asked, still on his knees. Though chained, his voice carried a certain dignity.
It was Mako's instinct that made him focus more on Sir Arthur II than the chaos unfolding before the crowd.
"Easy, I was once like you," Arthur said with hollow eyes. "Just step aside, and no one will be harmed by divine justice… Only the queen will be judged."
The queen, hearing these words, furrowed her brow.
"You're the one who'll be judged here and now, Arthur," she said grudgingly from behind Mako. "You've betrayed the Crown. You deserve to die."
Then, they finally saw who was responsible for the chaos.
After the first guards fell, another group rushed to their aid. But they were powerless.
More guards kept collapsing, disarmed, unable to do anything.
"Oh," Sir Arthur II exclaimed from the podium, looking down at the crowd, "why, it's my dear daughter." He finished with a wide smile on his weathered face.
It was a woman with short black hair, brown eyes, and pale skin. Otherwise, her plain clothing made her blend in like any other citizen. Yet, every time the guards tried to surround her…
They fell without fail!
The crowd recoiled in fear behind her, and though the guards were armed men, even when three or four attacked at once, they achieved nothing.
In the shock of learning this young woman was Arthur's daughter, Mako noticed her movements.
The short-haired woman assumed a strange fighting stance. In fact, it looked more like… a prayer?
Three sharp swords aimed for her neck, but the young woman remained still.
Arthur's daughter kept her palms pressed together in what seemed like a prayer.
The swords were centimeters from cutting her when…
A centimeter from landing, the guards froze completely.
From one guard's blade, a single strand of hair fell, but not a drop of the woman's blood.
"The verdict is clear," the young woman declared coldly. "You are guilty."
With those chilling words, the last guards collapsed.
Not one remained standing.
"She's a witch!" someone in the crowd screamed, as panic swept through the masses.
"Tch!" one of the nobles behind the queen and Mako clicked their tongue.
It was none other than Zork Killian, the orc noble and supervisor of the Royal Court members.
"Witch?!" Zork said indignantly. "Don't make me laugh with fairy tales."
Zork strode to the front of the podium.
"Snap out of it, Mako! How can you let this happen on your watch?" Zork scolded.
With that, the orc leaped from the podium, landing heavily on the ground.
When Zork hit the earth, Mako could've sworn the ground trembled for a moment.
Despite being a noble with an extensive vocabulary, Zork had the muscle mass and strength of an orc. His fine clothing lacked armor, but he stood over two meters tall, his fearsome lower tusks on display.
"What do you think you're doing, little girl?" Zork said, his tone intimidating.
Yet Arthur's daughter didn't flinch. Instead, she silently resumed her fighting stance.
Mako, still positioned in front of the queen, wasn't hesitating. Despite Zork's reprimand, he hadn't moved an inch from his post for one reason…
"Ah, I see you're sharper than you look, for a Crown lapdog," Sir Arthur II said, still kneeling and chained.
Mako felt it deep in his bones. This man, known as Sir Arthur II, hero of Galandria's people, was a threat even in chains.
"Step back, my queen," Mako said firmly.
The queen didn't fully understand what Mako feared, but she heeded his advice. Escorted by other nobles present, she began to retreat.
"Sorry, lad," Sir Arthur II said, "but I can't let you do that."
With just the force of his feet, the elderly, gray-haired man launched into the air like a weightless leaf.
Mako was stunned. One second, Sir Arthur II was kneeling; the next, he was soaring two meters or more, landing on his feet as if it were nothing.
But a chill ran through Mako as two other things fell to the ground…
The chains that had bound the man until that moment.
Mako had kept one hand ready to draw his weapon, but in that instant, he was genuinely shocked.
Sir Arthur II stood before him, clad only in tattered rags, his face aged likely from countless nights in a dungeon.
Snapping out of his initial shock, Mako drew a rapier from its sheath: a slender-bladed sword with an ornate hilt. The elegant weapon pointed directly at Sir Arthur II.
Without wasting time, Sir Arthur pressed his palms together in that strange prayer-like stance. Face-to-face, Mako noticed its peculiarity.
Sir Arthur II stood firm, rigid, with both hands joined, fingers pointing skyward. But then, his right hand began to twist and slide, fingers pointing downward without breaking contact with the other hand.
"The verdict is clear," Sir Arthur II said. "All of you are guilty."