The golden courtroom of the gods was exactly the kind of place Kazuki didn't want to be.
It had too much marble. Too much echo. Too many judgmental statues with glowing eyes and way too many torches for a place that didn't have walls.
At the center stood Palas, the God of Justice, looking like someone who hadn't laughed in 400 years and resented everyone who had.
He wore a gleaming blindfold, gold armor with inlaid silver scales, and held a massive sword shaped like a judge's gavel. Every step he took caused the floor to hum with divine pressure.
Kazuki stood on the other side of the arena, sword sheathed, hair slightly wind-tousled, and expression stuck somewhere between "I'm bored" and "How did my life turn into a legal fantasy simulator?"
"Defendant Kazuki Ichiro," Palas began in a booming voice, "you are summoned here today for the following charges: Divine Irregularity, Reckless Ascension, Unauthorized Cult Formation, and Blatant Disregard for Traditional Sword God Duties."
"I didn't form the cult," Kazuki said. "They kind of… happened."
"They built a shrine out of cheese, mortal."
"I didn't tell them to!"
Miru whispered from his back, "It was actually a fondue altar. I was there. Beautiful craftsmanship."
Kazuki sighed and raised a hand. "Can I plead divine ignorance?"
Palas slammed the gavel-sword into the floor. The ground vibrated.
"Trial by sword. You win, you are acquitted. You lose, your godhood is stripped and your soul recycled into a nice bird."
Kazuki blinked. "Recycled? Like… spiritually composted?"
"Correct."
"Why a bird?"
"It's efficient."
Miru snorted. "I'd make a good hawk."
"I'd make a pissed-off pigeon," Kazuki muttered.
Palas raised his sword. "The trial begins!"
The courtroom shimmered.
The central platform expanded into a circular dueling arena, floating over a cosmic void filled with shifting constellations. Spectators appeared in the stands—other gods, demigods, bored spirits, and a handful of judges who looked like they'd been carved out of law textbooks.
Kazuki stretched his shoulders and stepped forward, hand on Miru's hilt.
"Alright," he said. "I'll try not to embarrass us."
"You will absolutely embarrass us," Miru replied cheerfully. "But let's go down swinging."
Palas moved first.
He raised his blade, and pillars of golden light erupted from the edges of the arena. Giant scales formed above their heads, tipping wildly with each movement.
Kazuki blinked. "Okay. That's flashy."
"He's summoning his Judgment Field," Miru said. "Basically a divine courtroom you have to win your case in by stabbing people."
"That sounds both cool and legally problematic."
Palas rushed him.
The first swing nearly decapitated Kazuki.
He ducked just in time, sliding under the arc of the golden blade and countering with a quick horizontal slash.
Palas deflected it with ease and retaliated with a backhand strike that sent a shockwave across the platform.
Kazuki skidded back, cloak flapping.
He coughed.
"This guy's strong."
"He bench-presses divine law," Miru muttered. "Try getting him off-balance. He's all about control."
Kazuki charged again, feinting left, then spinning to strike from above.
Palas blocked it cleanly.
But something shifted.
One of the cosmic scales above them tilted slightly in Kazuki's favor.
"Huh," he muttered.
"That's your first point," Miru said. "This field actually counts justice in combat. Style, intent, timing—it all counts."
"So I need to win by being both awesome and righteous?"
"Exactly."
"Great. The two things I'm least qualified for."
They clashed again. Kazuki danced around the edges of the field, staying light on his feet, ducking, slashing, occasionally getting smacked so hard his vision wobbled.
But he noticed something: Palas was predictable.
Efficient. Elegant. But bound by his own sense of fairness.
Every strike had a pattern. Every parry followed law-like timing.
So Kazuki did what he did best.
He got stupid.
The next time Palas charged, Kazuki threw his sword in the air.
Palas raised his blade to block a strike that never came—
—and Kazuki kicked him in the shin.
Hard.
Palas staggered, eyes widening beneath the blindfold. "You kicked me?"
"Yup," Kazuki said, catching Miru as he fell back into his hand. "You didn't say anything about footwork."
The scales tipped more in Kazuki's favor.
The audience gasped.
Palas gritted his teeth. "Tactical unorthodoxy. Clever."
"I call it chaotic dumbassery," Kazuki said. "Trademark pending."
They fought for ten more minutes.
By the end of it, Kazuki was bruised, winded, and bleeding from one arm—but the scales were fully in his favor. Palas was still standing tall, but his swings had grown slower, more frustrated.
Finally, Kazuki disarmed him with a wide circular slash that sent Palas's blade flying into the void.
Kazuki stepped back, panting.
"I… win?"
Palas fell to one knee.
The cosmic scales rang like bells, then dissolved into golden dust.
[Trial Completed — Verdict: Acquitted]
[Title Gained: Lawful Menace]
[Reward: Favor of the Scales]
Kazuki collapsed onto the floor.
"Ow."
Palas stood after a moment, walking over to offer his hand.
Kazuki blinked, surprised.
"I expected you to be more bitter."
"I am. But I respect victory," Palas said. "You outmaneuvered me with sheer unpredictability. That, too, has value in balance."
"Thanks. I think."
"However," Palas added, "the next time you disrupt the Divine Registry by accidentally blessing livestock into sainthood, I will fine you."
"…That's fair."
The courtroom faded.
Kazuki stumbled back into the guild lounge through the shimmering portal, smoke curling off his shoulders and hair slightly scorched.
Lita was waiting at the bar, sipping a soda.
She took one look at him and raised an eyebrow.
"You win?"
"I think so."
"You look like someone stuffed you into a toaster."
Kazuki slumped into a chair.
Miru dropped onto the table, blade dull but smug. "We kicked his legally divine ass."
Lita grinned. "Nice. Did you use any cool moves?"
"I kicked him in the shin."
"…You're my hero."
The rest of the night was a blur.
Guild members gathered to hear the story. Some bought him drinks. Others asked for sword lessons. Someone offered him a suspicious potion called "Justice Juice" that he declined on instinct.
A traveling bard wrote a song about the fight. It was mostly accurate—except for the part where Kazuki "soared through the heavens with blades of flame." He let it slide.
Later, he collapsed in his room, dead tired.
For once, Miru didn't talk.
Kazuki stared at the ceiling.
He was still confused.
Still overwhelmed.
Still didn't know how taxes worked in this world.
But for now… he was okay.
He closed his eyes.
And dreamed of birds with law degrees.