1st Person POV – Kaito
The great hall of Korvath was heavy with silence. The banners of Ostoria hung limply along the cracked stone pillars, still smelling faintly of smoke and blood. I stood in the center—unchained, unarmed, but surrounded by soldiers whose eyes followed me like hounds waiting for the order to bite.
The table before me gleamed with polished oak, shaped into a crescent where the five great figures of Ostoria sat. Mako Shirusekai of Orleaf—his expression calm, though his eyes carried the weight of every life lost. Tamaki Yume of Korvath—sharp, unyielding, her voice the echo of law itself. Seiko Nakahara of Reflynne—soft-spoken yet firm, her white robes a symbol of healing in a place now sick with division. Iroko Ryusei—the Adventurers Guild Master, unreadable but quietly observant. And finally, Taro Koshiro, the merchant lord, a man who measured truth as he did coin—by weight and worth.
Five gazes bore into me. Five judgments waiting to be pronounced.
Tamaki spoke first. Her tone was that of a gavel hitting stone.
"Kaito Mugenrei. You stand accused of murdering Chancellor Valerius Montara and his twelve guards within the guest chambers of this very hall. Do you deny the charges?"
I met her eyes. "No."
Gasps rippled across the spectators lining the walls—soldiers, clerks, healers, and townsfolk who had once cheered for me when I fought beside them. I heard someone whisper 'monster'. Another murmured 'hero'.
Mako's voice followed, steady but carrying sorrow.
"Then let us proceed. You will answer truthfully to our questions, Kaito Mugenrei. Whatever truth remains will decide your fate."
He nodded toward Tamaki. She began.
---
1. What was your motive for killing the victim?
My lips twitched at the word victim.
"He wasn't a victim," I said. "He was the reason Bustleburg burned. The reason thousands died. The reason we rebuilt Korvath on ashes still warm from betrayal."
Tamaki leaned forward. "You believe he was the reason. Belief is not proof."
"I don't deal in belief," I replied. "I found his coded orders. Plans to open Korvath's gates to Valeria once we were 'weak and trusting.'"
Seiko's brows furrowed. "And yet, you did not bring this evidence to the council. You chose execution over judgment."
I turned to her. "Judgment? I've seen your kind of judgment before. While councils argue, cities burn. I did what needed to be done—before he could do it again."
My words hung in the air like the echo of a blade still dripping.
---
2. How did you kill the victim?
"I walked through the front gate," I said simply. "They told me to stop. I didn't."
Taro Koshiro's voice was sharp. "You fought through twelve armed men?"
"They were in the way," I said. "I gave them the chance to run. None did."
A silence stretched, heavy and cold. I could still see the flash of steel, the shock in their eyes as I moved faster, struck harder—every heartbeat a drumbeat of resolve.
Mako's gaze deepened. "And Montara himself?"
I remembered the Chancellor's smirk, his calm arrogance as he realized the end had come.
"I killed him cleanly," I said. "No torture. No hesitation. Just… justice."
Seiko's lips tightened. "Justice without mercy is vengeance."
"Then call it vengeance," I said. "Names don't change what's right."
---
3. How did you know that the victim was a traitor?
I almost laughed. "Because I saw him before all this. Years ago. Bustleburg. He was there, whispering to Valerian officers before the horde came. I was a child, hiding under the corpses of my neighbors. I saw his face. That smile."
Tamaki's eyes narrowed. "And yet you kept this knowledge hidden until now?"
I looked away. "Who would have believed me? A half-starved orphan claiming that the Prime Minister of Ostoria conspired with Valeria?"
The hall was silent again. Even the soldiers at the door shifted uneasily.
"I learned long ago," I continued, "that trust is a luxury for people who can afford to lose. I can't."
---
4. Did you have any accomplices or people who helped you in the killing?
I met Mako's gaze squarely. "No one. I needed no one."
"You didn't tell Yoshiya or Omina?" Seiko asked softly.
"Why would I?" I said. "I wasn't looking for approval. I wasn't asking permission. I was finishing something that started long before they came here."
Taro Koshiro leaned back, tapping his quill against the table. "A lone wolf who follows only his instincts. Admirable, in a way. Dangerous, in every other."
"Dangerous to traitors," I replied.
---
5. What was your reaction when you found out that the victim was dead?
For the first time, I smiled—thin and tired.
"I already knew the moment my blade left its sheath. There was no joy in it. Just… silence."
Mako tilted his head. "Silence?"
"The kind that comes after a storm," I said. "The kind that feels like peace… even if it's built on blood."
Seiko's expression softened. "You speak as though you wanted peace, yet you bring only death."
"I don't bring death," I murmured. "I follow it."
---
6. Did you have any plans to kill the victim before the killing?
"Yes," I said without hesitation. "From the moment I recognized him in that parade. I knew the world would never be safe while he breathed."
Tamaki's hand slammed the table. "So it was premeditated. Cold-blooded."
I looked up at her, unflinching.
"Cold blood keeps the hand steady."
The guards at the door shifted. I could feel the air tighten around me, the council's moral weight pressing like chains I refused to wear.
---
A long pause followed. The council members exchanged glances—each one reflecting a different kind of judgment.
Mako spoke at last. "You act as judge, jury, and executioner. You deny others the chance to see truth through lawful means. Yet, I cannot ignore that your actions may have spared us a greater disaster."
Tamaki's tone cut through. "If we excuse this, we invite chaos. Today it is Montara. Tomorrow, who decides what justice means? You?"
Seiko's voice trembled with conviction. "We must not kill conscience in our pursuit of order. There is still humanity in him—I can see it."
Taro Koshiro sighed. "Humanity or not, our city bleeds. Our trade falters. Our people whisper. A symbol must be made."
Then Iroko Ryusei, silent until now, finally spoke. His voice was calm, but his eyes—sharp as daggers—never left mine.
"I've seen hundreds of men in your position, Kaito. Some broke under guilt. Some justified their cruelty. But you… you carry your sins like armor. Why?"
I met his stare.
"Because guilt is for those who doubt their path," I said quietly. "I don't."
He leaned back. "And if you're wrong?"
I smiled faintly. "Then I'll pay the price when the time comes. But not before."
---
The council withdrew for deliberation, leaving me alone in the center of the hall. The murmurs of the crowd swelled behind me—'traitor,' 'savior,' 'madman,' 'avenger.'
I ignored them all.
Because in truth, I didn't need their verdict.
Their justice was paper and politics. Mine was made of steel and silence.
And as I stood there, staring at the crimson stains still clinging to my hands, I felt the strange calm again.
Not pride.
Not regret.
Just the certainty that for the first time in years—
the ghosts of Bustleburg were quiet.