"Today we will restart this session for the third time" announced the judge with a visibly nervous expression, as if he expected something to collapse on his head at any moment.
I stood there, motionless as a statue, but inside my heart was pounding. It was supposed to be a discreet trial. No noise, no fuss. A quick, hushed case that no one would remember. But now... well, now it looked like a circus.
The nobles who lived in the surrounding area had left the comfort of their mansions to attend in person. They didn't send messengers. They came themselves. They brought their heavy cloaks, their superior looks, and their poisonous whispers. And they didn't come alone. The governor of New Moon City himself was sitting there, his bored expression hidden behind a diplomatic smile.
The U-shaped bleachers were packed—men, women, young people, hired soldiers, and important merchants. Some had come for the gossip. Others for the chance to see blood. Some wanted to see me fail. Others... just wanted to be entertained. After all, this now involved land. And if it involved land, it involved rights. And if it involved rights... it involved power.
Anything I said or did would be remembered. Commented on. Evaluated. Weighed. With every step, every movement of my body, I felt dozens—perhaps hundreds—of eyes examining me, like cold blades scratching my skin beneath my armor. The trial may have been mine, but it was the entire House of Udrik that was on trial.
Those involved were in the same places as before. Nothing seemed to have changed—except me.
I was bigger. Much bigger.
Now, standing 7 feet 2 inches tall, with arms like tree trunks and shoulders wide enough to intimidate even a warhorse, there was no way to hide. My black armor reflected the light from the hall, and my two-handed sword, planted in front of me, looked like a stake driven between two worlds: that of justice and that of vengeance.
At 13, I had become a colossus. And they noticed.
"That guy is 13 years old? If he's 13, I'm eight!" muttered a man in his thirties, open-mouthed.
"What are the Udriks feeding him? Horses?" said another.
"He must be the son of giants... it has to be" I heard someone whisper, with a mixture of fear and fascination.
The growing murmur among the crowd spread like wildfire before the killing machine positioned in the center of the platform. A monster of cold, menacing steel— —that looked more like a symbol of judgment than a mere instrument.
I stood there, my long two-handed sword in my grip, holding it as if it were a short sword—because that was how I used it, with the concentrated strength of someone who knows they cannot falter. It was impossible not to feel a chill run down the spine of those watching me.
The judge's voice echoed firmly through the hall:
"Zaatar Udrik, do you accept the charges brought against you by Victoria Violeta?"
"Yes" I replied, my voice thick and harsh coming from inside the helmet that hid my face.
He continued, already wanting to shorten the process:
"Do you wish to accept the terms or opt for a divine trial by combat?"
A spark ignited inside me. The decision was clear.
"I wish to prove my innocence through combat"
The hall exploded in applause, wild shouts. The crowd rose in a unified vibration, the adrenaline almost tangible in the air.
"Do you have a representative?" the judge asked, waiting.
"I will fight myself" I declared, raising my voice so that everyone could hear.
The euphoria grew even more, like a storm about to break.
The judge cast a stern glance at the ten members of the court seated before him—the same ones who, after two months of heated discussions, had finally reached a consensus.
"Does any noble of the court oppose this decision?"
"We are all in favor" replied Grenvene, with a seriousness that seemed to cut through the air itself.
"So be it" The judge then turned to the city governor. "Sir, do you wish to speak?"
The governor raised his cup, his eyes shining with an unrelenting flame.
"Until death, the guilty must answer with their own lives. Crimes like this cannot go unpunished" he declared, his voice resonating with force.
The toast echoed through the hall, sealing the fate that awaited me.
The people around me seemed mad. It didn't matter if they were merchants, guards, officials, or nobles—their blood was boiling now that they knew one thing: only one person would leave that place alive.
"Does the Violet house intend to send a representative? Or will you declare defeat here and now?" The voice boomed through the hall, cutting through the heavy silence like a knife.
The silence that followed was almost palpable. My eyes fixed on Victoria, who was trembling slightly, her heart racing. The mountain of men before her seemed immense, intimidating. At my side, my family members couldn't hide their agitation — and I felt the weight of having grown up absurdly fast in those months of training.
The people around us wondered how this had happened. They were ignorant of what I had been through. But unlike them, I was no ordinary commoner.
I was a human who had reached an almost unattainable limit of the body — one of those who had undergone biological mutations from an early age, surviving where most would never have endured.
The question that lingered was clear: had I already surpassed that limit, or was there still more to come?
"He's already undergone two complete mutations" I heard a harsh, low voice say beside me. "This guy is an interesting specimen. Hey... strengthen your champion's conviction. We can take his body back to our headquarters for study. This is lost knowledge from the ancient era. If we investigate, we can produce several like him, forming a powerful secondary force"
Victoria looked away for a moment and noticed Dagen Lance restless at her side, his fingers nervously running through his hair, trying to control the anxiety that seemed to consume him. With an almost silent sigh, she circled her life light, that subtle energy she carried with her, and gently directed it toward the pendant attached to her body—a silent source of strength.
With soft steps, she approached him, her fingers finding Dagen's in a delicate, almost shy connection. Their eyes met, deep and intense, as if the whole world had stopped to watch that silent exchange.
In Victoria's gaze there was a curious mixture of love and fear, a sweet melancholy that made her voice almost whisper, fragile:
"Don't leave me alone in this world..."