"Clear the gallery."
Guards moved through the courtroom like a tide pushing spectators toward exit doors. Voices echoed off stone walls as citizens filed through main corridors. Recording crystals dimmed. News vendors packed their equipment.
Leon stood between two Association guards. Their armor gleamed under torchlight. Mana-forged cuffs pulsed against his wrists with steady blue energy. Each pulse reminded him of power locked away behind suppression runes.
His shoulders ached from hours in restraints. The formal charges weighed heavier than physical discomfort. Murder. Unauthorized necromancy. Disruption of established order. Each accusation carried death sentences.
But his expression stayed controlled. No fear showed in his eyes.
"This way."
The left guard gestured toward a narrow passage. Different from where others walked. Stone walls bore older inscriptions here. Torches flickered with inconsistent light. Less maintained than public areas.
