"Criminal number 257, Aren Rayne, has been found guilty based on the available evidence and witness statements. This court has indisputably determined the defendant's crimes. The offenses committed by Aren Rayne fall under the scope of treason by bloodline and mass murder, pursuant to Chapter 7, Articles 4 and 5 of the Mohen Laws."
Serena paused for a moment, filling the silence of the courtroom with her own authority.
"Defendant Aren Rayne, in consideration of all witness testimonies, investigative reports, and physical evidence recorded in the court archives, is hereby sentenced to be transferred to IMFA High-Security Prison. The duration and conditions of this sentence, under Chapter 11, Paragraph 3 of the Constitution, shall fall under the prison administration's special discipline and observation protocols. The result: life imprisonment."
Serena's voice, cold yet melodic, echoed as the gavel struck, sealing the verdict. The courtroom erupted into murmurs as people began whispering among themselves.
"His own son was his downfall. Tsk! What a pity!"
"She should have killed her son with his vile nature from the very beginning."
"People like him stain the name of our Holy Kingdom."
"Perhaps he should have been banished to the Bone City from the start."
"Doesn't his sister carry the same blood as him?"
"What if she's the same as well?"
"But everyone says Miss Amy is talented and has a kind personality."
"They're as different as night and day, don't compare them!"
Judge Serena Winter struck the gavel once more, formally ending the proceedings. The guards approached Aren with steady steps. Two officers, clad in long coats and white helmets, seized him with practiced discipline.
Aren looked at the approaching guards with a detached smile, no trace of fear or regret in his eyes. "Ah, are we finally leaving?" he murmured in a tone so relaxed that others could hear.
The crowd in the courtroom instinctively pulled back as they watched him; some whispered in hushed tones, others hurled curses openly. The guards took hold of Aren's arms and escorted him out. The corridor was wide, with high ceilings and cold stone walls.
Outside, journalists waiting with cameras went wild, pressing their shutters furiously. Aren felt momentarily blinded by the sudden storm of flashes. As he was pushed into the prisoner transport vehicle, the shouts of reporters pierced his ears.
"Aren Rayne, do you admit to your crimes?"
"What do you have to say about your attitude in the courtroom?"
"Do you feel remorse for killing your father?"
"Do you feel any guilt toward the people you murdered?"
"What are your thoughts on the court's verdict?"
…
The questions bombarded him relentlessly as the vehicle pulled away. From the window, Aren's eyes fell on the orderly, sharp-edged architecture of the city. Crystal City was the district of the middle and upper classes; the buildings were tall, the streets meticulously organized.
According to the lost and hidden chronicles, two thousand years ago, during the war of the gods, the survivors—led by the nine founding families—established this Holy Kingdom and chose the strongest among them as their king. The kingdom was built upon the peace and balance of power they brought forth.
Further in the distance, gleaming in the sunlight, rose the towering structures of Avalon, Aegis, and Castle.
Meanwhile, Amy stood hidden in a corner, watching the vehicle carry Aren away. The black hat on her head and the mask covering her face made it clear she did not want to be recognized. She had been present inside the courtroom, but left as soon as the verdict was announced.
Listening to the filthy whispers of the crowd, hearing them speak as if they knew everything, judging her family's decisions—it was unbearable. The fire of rage in Amy's heart only grew hotter.
This is all Aren's fault! If he hadn't committed such vile crimes, Father would still be alive. No one would have dared speak ill of him. Yes, it's all his fault!
Her eyes, filled with hatred, remained fixed on the road where the vehicle had vanished. When she noticed some journalists glancing her way, she pulled her hat lower and quickly disappeared into the crowd.
Inside the vehicle, Aren looked out at the clear skies and shook his head. Well, this isn't a movie after all. Expecting storm clouds just because I'm being dragged to hell would be greedy. He mocked his own situation in silence.
The vehicle left the multilane highway of Crystal City, entering a quieter road. The only sound inside was the hum of the engine. One guard repeatedly checked the titanium chains binding Aren's wrists.
Suddenly, a sharp explosion erupted outside. The vehicle jolted violently. The shriek of brakes tore through the air as the vehicle lurched, nearly tipping before skidding to a hard stop.
"Damn it! What the hell was that?" the driver shouted, his voice trembling with fear and anger.
Before anyone could answer, a black armored truck slammed into the side of the vehicle. The screech of metal grinding against metal rang through the air.
A second explosion followed, flipping the vehicle onto its side. The road ahead was engulfed in flames. Sparks from the fire flickered through the shattered windows.
One of the guards grabbed his radio. "We're under attack! Requesting immediate—"
Before he could finish, the upper door of the overturned vehicle caved in under a heavy blow. Through the smoke and fire, two masked assailants appeared. One carried a short-range arcane rifle, its bursts of energy flooding the cabin with white light.
One guard leapt forward, raising his shield to block the incoming fire. The transparent barrier flared as the energy blasts struck, scattering sparks everywhere.
The second attacker pressed his thumb and forefinger together into a ring and lifted it to his lips. He blew as if inflating a balloon, and a translucent sphere formed in the air.
The guard was sucked into the sphere, which then burst apart. Blood and flesh splattered across the interior of the vehicle. One of the remaining guards, horrified, stumbled back a step and fired his weapon in panic.