Chapter 38 Chapter IX Judgment
A sound woke Deacon Dorches, who grunted annoyedly and rolled over to avoid the hand shaking his shoulder.
"So I'm going to be late for morning prayers." He groaned and sank into the mattress, burying his face in the pillow. "Tell Emin to ignore me and get started."
"Deacon!" A condescending voice urged, continuing to bother the priest. "Wake up. Bishop Fanya is calling you."
"Vanya!" Doques couldn't believe it.The middle-aged priest, who was still a deacon, struggled to climb out of the abyss of comfortable sleep, squinting at the ball of light, which was hovering around a black-robed figure above him. "Dukesis!" He exclaimed in a low voice, trying to wake up his drowsy mind.
The horror aroused by the sight of the sorcerer helped, but by the time Dorches had wrenched his feet out of the bedding and onto the ground, the terror had turned into cynical self-amusement. "They're coming to me at this time." He thought as he reached for the clothes that had been left at the foot of the bed. "I don't know what it could be? It must have been about the Queen's talk at last night's banquet. Ah, Dorches, at your age, you should have thought of learning a lesson!"
He sighed, and was about to put on his clothes, but was stopped by the wizard's hand.The sorcerer hung in front of him, expression hidden in a black hood.
"What's the matter this time?" Dorches blurted out, feeling that he had nothing to worry about. "Is it not enough for His Excellency to execute the execution in the middle of the night? I still have to go to see him naked?"
"You have to wear a ceremonial robe." Duke Xisi said in a drawn-out tone. "I brought the clothes."
Indeed, Doques now saw the sorcerer with his best robes draped over his arms, like the ablest house mage.Dorches stared at the clothes, then at the wizard.
"There is no mention of punishment at all." Duke Xisi continued coldly. "The bishop asks you to hurry up. The situation is urgent." The wizard shook off his robe carefully. "I'll do my best to help."
Doques stood up numbly with a magical command, and put on the ceremonial robe that he hadn't worn since.when was thatWas it at the ceremony announcing the young prince as the living dead? "What... what color?" asked the deacon, who was full of confusion and confusion, and rubbed his head with one hand.His head, which used to have the dregs of the shaved hair, is now as bald as the stones on the holy mountain where he is.
"What color, Father?" Duke Xisi asked. "I do not understand--"
"What color should I turn my robe?" Doques waved angrily. "It's weeping gray blue now, can you see that? For a condolence service? Then I'll keep the color. Maybe a wedding? If so, I'll have to change it to—"
"Judgment." Duke Xisi replied simply.
"Judgment." Dorches pondered.He unhurriedly used the chamber pot in the corner of his small room, and found that the usual self-disciplined wizard was getting more and more impatient by his procrastination.The hands that the sorcerer should have held calmly in front of him had already curled up their fingers and clasped each other tightly. "Hmm." The deacon snorted, straightened his robe slowly, and turned it into a neutral gray shade during the trial.Meanwhile, his now fairly lucid mind was trying to figure out what had happened.
Bishop Fanya called late at night.A Dukexis had been sent to escort him—not yet the customary novices.He is not going to be punished, but to serve as a juror.He was wearing the ceremonial robes he hadn't worn in eighteen years—nearly eighteen years now, he suddenly remembered—and the anniversary of the prince's death had just been celebrated last night.But Deacon Dorches still couldn't think of anything.Curiously, he turned back to Duke Xisi, who was waiting for him, who was relieved to see him arrange his robes in time.
Still a young boy.Dorches thought, chuckling inwardly.
"Okay, let's go." The deacon muttered and walked towards the door.The result surprised him, and the cold hand grabbed him again.
"Use the teleportation corridor, Father." Duke Xisi said.
"To the room of His Excellency the Bishop?" Doques glared at the wizard. "You may be new here, young man, but you must know that this sort of thing is strictly forbidden—"
"Follow me, if you like, Father." Duke Xisi was probably annoyed by what the deacon said about him being young, and obviously lost his patience.A teleportation corridor suddenly opened in Dorches' room, and the cold hand pushed the old deacon inside.Doques felt a moment of crushing and crushing, and then stood in a huge and wide cave hall.Located in the heart of the sacred mountain, this hall is said to have been made by the powerful wizard who brought the people here.
Here is the Hall of Life (its name from ancient times was originally the Hall of Life and Death, to signify the two sides of the world. This name has aroused objections in modern times, and with the expulsion of the demon craftsmen, it was abandoned Renamed.) Whether the legend is true or not, the hall does look very much like it was dug out of granite, like a melon husk that has been hollowed out.It is located in the very center of the holy mountain, built around the fountain of life, from which the magic of the world gushes out like a spring.Its vaults stretched hundreds of feet in the air, its stone ceiling adorned with arches carved from smooth stone.There are four huge grooves on the rock wall in front of the hall, called the Fingers of Merlin, and the four cardinals of the Holy See sat in these four alcoves when deliberating.On the opposite rock wall there is another giant circular ditch, somewhat irreverently known privately as Merlin's Thumb.There would sit the bishop of the Holy See, facing his ministers, during the deliberations.Sandwiched between the two are rows of stone benches on the stone floor.Cold and uncomfortable to sit on, these stone benches had a rather irreverent name, often whispered and sniggered among the new novice monks.
The vast hall is usually lit by magic lamps shining in the sky by the mage who is the catalyst saint.But right now the lights were off.Dorches looked around in the cold darkness.
"In the name of Emin!" The deacon gasped, and when he found out where he was, he was almost tripped by the utter shock. "The Hall of Life! I haven't been here for a long time, since... since..."
Although Docques often couldn't remember what happened just yesterday, memories from eighteen years ago suddenly came back.Someone had told him that forgetfulness was one of the hallmarks of old age.Old people often live in the memories of the past.Well, why not?The past was a hell of a lot more interesting events than the present.But it looks like that's about to change.he thought, frowning as he scanned the darkened hall.
"Where are the others?" he asked young Duke Xis, who put his hand on his arm and led him through the maze of stone benches to Merlin's thumb.
Judging from the memory of the layout here, at least the old deacon felt that they were going there.A flash of light shot out from the wizard's hand, and Dorches staggered after him.Honestly he couldn't see anything.He remembered that the Well of Life was in the middle of the hall, so he turned to look.That's right, it was there, dimly lit, but otherwise, the entire cave hall was pitch black.Then, suddenly a ray of light shone in front of them.Dorches squinted to see the light source, but it was so bright that he could only see a few figures passing by, blocking it for a moment.
The last time Dorches was here was as a witness to a trial against a male catalyst saint who had committed carnal union with a young lady of the nobility - the lady's name was Tanya or Anya or something of.what!Dorches shook his head sadly, remembering the past.The hall was once filled with members of the Order of the Saints.All the Catalyst Saints who lived in the Holy Mountain, the Catalyst Saints who lived in the defendant's hometown, Marilong, were required to attend.The crime committed by the couple was described in detail by the bishop in the form of images, in order to let the believers remember how appalling such a crime was.It is uncertain whether anyone resisted the temptation because of this.But not a single Catalyst Saint fell asleep during the three-day trial, and during the night there was such a frenzy among the Novices that Vespers was extended from one hour to two hours for the following month.
The execution of the punishment of transformation must have a far-reaching significance, and everyone is required to be a witness.That tragic scene still gave Dorches nightmares.Over and over he saw the man's hand finally clenched into a fist of hatred and contempt as the stone slowly climbed up his living body.
It annoyed him to recall these unpleasant memories, and Doches stopped. "Wait," he said stubbornly. "I must know what happened. Where are you taking me?" He looked into the dark cavern. "Where are the others? Why aren't the lights on?"
"Please follow me, Deacon Doques." If the voice echoed in the empty space was not harsh, it would have been quite pleasant.Dorches could see now that the light and the sound were coming from the same place - Merlin's thumb. "Everything will be explained."
"Vanya." Dorches muttered.He shivered, longing to be back in the warmth of his bed.
The hall hadn't been opened for many years, and it was freezing cold around, exuding the moisture of rocks and the musty smell of weaving carpets.The deacon sneezed, wiped his nose with his cuff, followed up again, walked into the light, squinted his eyes like an owl, and stood in front of His Excellency the Holy See Bishop.
"Dear deacon, sorry to disturb your rest."
Bishop Vanya stood up—unheard of for a deacon of low status.Moreover, this deacon has been a deacon for forty years, and it is very likely that he was still a deacon until his death because of his poisonous tongue and bad habits of outspokenness.It is said that if some powerful family member of the palace had not been protecting him, Dorches would have been lying flat on a coffin among the guardians of the rock long ago.The bishop's respectful performance is unprecedented, but it may not be unprecedented.Doques bowed and saluted, trying to suppress his surprise. At this time, Vanya stretched out his hand, not for Doques to kiss the ring on his hand, but for the deacon to hold those chubby fingers.
If I were dead now, I'd be floating straight up to Emin.The old deacon laughed at himself.But he took the bishop's hand, pressed his forehead, and tried his best to put on a pious and intoxicated image at his age, thinking that he would look like he was stunned expression.The touch of those fingers was unpleasant, as cold as a freshly caught fish, still trembling slightly in his hands.Van Ya may have realized this, and quickly withdrew his hand in a disgraceful manner, turned around and sat down, and piled his great body wrapped in red robes on the plain stone throne in the alcove.Lights shone behind Vanya, and Dorches shrewdly noticed that they were coming from some magical light source on the wall.The light casts the bishop's face in shadow while illuminating all who face him.
Dorches glanced around, his eyes had adapted to the bright light, and he didn't know what to do next.He found that Duke Xisi who had brought him here had disappeared, if not disappeared, or melted into the shadows.But he felt that there were other members of that shadowy order around, watching and listening, but he couldn't see them.There was only one other person Doches could see in the hall.It was an old catalyst saint, wearing a worn red robe, huddled on a stone chair.The stone chair seemed to have been summoned hastily and stood beside the bishop's throne.The man bowed his head.All Doches could see was thin, unkempt gray hair on top of an unhealthy-looking gray scalp.When the bishop greeted Docques, the man didn't move, just sat down and stared at his shoes, which made the deacon feel a little familiar.
Dorches tried to sneak a glimpse of the man's face, but from where he stood he could not see it, and the deacon did not dare to risk the man's attention until he was sent away by the bishop.The deacon's eyes turned to Vanya, and saw that His Excellency no longer looked at him, but - it seemed - waved to a black shadow.
Dorches was not surprised when he saw the shadow respond, which took the form of the young wizard who had led him.The black-cloaked head bowed to Vanya's whisper, and Doques took the opportunity to take a step closer to his Catalyst saint friend.
"Brother," Dorches said softly and kindly--the tone he used to utter harsh words when he felt like it. "I'm afraid you are unwell. I can help—"
Hearing this, the catalyst saint raised his head.A haggard face was looking at him, and his kind voice just now sparked tears in those eyes.
Dorches' voice died away.He was so taken aback that he not only swallowed what he wanted to say, but almost swallowed his own tongue.
"Saryon!"
His rationality was lost in astonishment, and he staggered under the weight of shock, curiosity, and growing fear.Dorches slumped gratefully into another stone chair that suddenly appeared—summoned by another Dukexis lurking in the shadows.He sat on the right side of Bishop Vanya, opposite to Saryon who sat on the left side of the bishop.Curiosity and shock were two feelings that Dorques could understand—he didn't know what was going on—but fear was so subtle that it was difficult to judge.He realized at last that the fear came from Saryon's pained expression, the pain that had changed the man so visibly that Dorches looked at him now and didn't know how he had recognized him before. Saryon, who was only in his early forties, looked older than Doches.His face was pale, and the light in "Merlin's Thumb" turned his face into ashes.Those eyes, once gentle and focused, the eyes of a dedicated mathematician, have become the eyes of someone caught in a trap.He watched Saryon keep wandering his eyes, as if he was looking for a way to escape, casting frantic gazes around from time to time, but most of the time he was staring at Bishop Vanya.The hopeless look in his eyes made the deacon very sad. It was this that aroused the deacon's fear.Dorches, who was older than Saryon, and more worldly than the scholar who had been sheltered, could see no hope for the poor saint in the placid face of the bishop, or in the cold eyes of his lord.Not to mention those fingers that feel like fish.Dorches suddenly had a frightening feeling that he had lived too long... He sat on the cold stone bench that could not be warmed by his own body temperature, feeling restless.He had been here for half an hour, and no one had said a word, except for Dukexis who had just whispered a spell and summoned a chair.Dorches looked at Saryon, and Saryon looked at Vanya, and Vanya stared sternly into the darkness of the great hall. If this situation doesn't end soon, I'm about to say something I regret.Dorches said to himself.I know I definitely will.What happened to Saryon?He looked like he lived with the devil!I-- "Deacon Doques." Bishop Fanya suddenly called out in a pleasant voice, which made him immediately alert. "My lord," Dorches tried to respond with equal grace. "There is a vacancy for the position of head saint of the royal family of the city-state of Jessair," Van Ya said. "Are you interested in this, my boy?" My boy, my ass.Dorches snorted and stared at Vanya.You may be old enough to be my father, but I doubt that kind of fat and round belly is capable of bearing children... He lost his mind, and the bishop's words finally sank into the head of the deacon.He stared at Vanya, and the light made him squint again—the light source had been enchanted and shone completely on his face. "Uh... the head of the family saint." Doques said hesitantly. "But... that would have to be done by a cardinal, Your Excellency. Of course you can't—" "Ah, but I can!" Van Ya assured him confidently, waving his chubby hand. "Emin revealed to me His will. You have served Him faithfully for many years, my child, and have not yet been rewarded. Now is the golden time of your life, and it is very appropriate to appoint you to this position. The papers are ready Well, as soon as we settle this little matter at hand, these papers will be signed, and you will be on your way to the palace. "Jessair is a charming city." The bishop continued to talk.He talked to Dorches as if they were the only two people in the hall, without even looking at Saryon - who was always looking at him, looking at him with all his heart. "Amazing zoo. There are even a few centaurs on display - well kept, of course." The head of the family saint!Cardinal!He was constantly reminded that if it had not been for his patron, he might have been thrown among the rows of beans as a lowly village saint, for one such person to accept such a position.Dorches had felt the smell of conspiracy like a dead rat before, and now he could smell it.This little thing in front of me.Van Ya said before.We'll be able to sign these papers... Dorches hoped that Saryon would give him a clue, but Saryon's eyes fell on his shoes again, but his drooping head looked - if he could tell - more depressed than before. "I—I don't know, Your Excellency," Dorches stammered, hoping to gain time to find out why he was being sold. "It was so sudden, it happened to me like this, I was just sleeping—" "Yes, we're sorry, but this matter is urgent. You can rest in the palace. But you don't need to make a decision now. Actually, it's better to wait until this trivial matter is resolved." Van Ya stopped, his chubby The face turned to the deacon, but because of the backlight, it was impossible to see the expression on his face. "Satisfactory answer, we pray to Emin." Dorches smiled wryly, and Van Ya had already looked up piously.From this point of view, the bishop believed that the old deacon could be bought and sold at will.Well, I am.Dorches admitted.Everyone has their own price tag.Dorches glanced at Saryon's sickly face.In this case, the price is too high. Van Ya obviously decided that the matter was settled, so he gestured. "Take the prisoner." The darkness behind him moved. "Now let's explain why you were pulled from your warm bed, Cardinal...I mean...Deacon Doques," said the Bishop, clasping his hands at the midline of his round figure.It may have been a meaningless gesture, but Dorches saw the fingers clenched, the knuckles white, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. Dorches no longer looked at Vanya, but looked at Saryon vigilantly.The saint cringed at the word "prisoner," as if wishing he could become part of the stone chair beneath him.He looked so bad that Dorches almost rushed over to call for the druid, but he was stopped by a sudden yellow light. Three fiery hissing energy rings appeared in front of Bishop Vanya.The young Duke Xisi appeared next to the energy ring, and then, a young man appeared inside.The energy ring circled around the young man's strong arms and thighs, sticking very close but not touching his body.Dorches sat some distance away, could still feel the heat of the three rings, and cringed at the thought of what would happen to the young man if he tried to escape. However, the prisoner did not appear to be planning to escape.He looked numb, standing where he was with his head bowed, his long, straight black hair falling to his shoulders and hanging around his face.He was about eighteen years old, Dorches guessed, looking at his fit body with both envy and regret.We are here to judge this young man.Dorches analyzed it.But for what?Why not let Duke Sisi handle it?Is he a catalyst saint? ...No, it's impossible.Which Catalyst saint has muscles like that... why just the three of us?Why the three of us? "You are wondering, Deacon Doques, what happened." Bishop Van Ya said. "We apologize again. Only you, I'm afraid, don't know anything about it. Deacon Saryon—" Upon hearing the name, the young man raised his head sharply.He shook off the black hair in front of him, squinted his eyes in the bright light, and after he got used to the light, he began to look around. "Father!" he shouted inarticulately, forgetting the restraints on his body, and hurried forward.With a sizzling sound, there was a smell of burnt flesh.The young man gasped in pain, but did not cry out. Dorches was surprised that the prisoner knew Saryon, and was surprised again when he saw Saryon's reaction.The catalyst saint turned his eyes away, and raised his hand unconsciously—it was not an action to guard against an attack, but a gesture of refusal that he felt that he was not worthy of being approached. "Deacon Saryon—" Bishop Fanya continued calmly. "Know what happened, so I explain to you now. Brother Dorches. As you know, Simharon's decree requires that when a case involves a catalyst saint or a threat to the kingdom, the trial There should be a Catalyst Saint at the table, and the rest will be handled by Duke Sis." Dorches only paid half his attention to what Van Ya said.He knew the decree, and he had already guessed that the current case must be related to the safety of the kingdom-but how could such a young man threaten the kingdom far above him?Dorches studied the prisoner.He grew to believe that this young man would be a menacing force. Those dark eyes, these eyes looked familiar, where had he seen them?Those eyes were fixed on Saryon, burning with a burning light.Those thick and black eyebrows, twisted into a line above the bridge of the nose, showed a warm nature; the firm chin, the handsome, pensive face; the voluminous black hair that fell over the shoulders; the proud posture, the fearless eyes... ...a truly formidable personality who would change the position of the stars if he chose. Where have I seen him?Dorches asked himself again.The subconscious knew something, but couldn't drag it to the surface of memory, and the irritation gnawed at him.I have seen such a proudly raised head, such shiny hair, such haughty gaze... But where did I see it? "The young man's name is Joram." Hearing the name, Dorches' attention immediately turned back to Van Ya.No, he thought disappointedly, the name meant nothing.I still know- "He has been accused of multiple crimes, one of which is threatening the security of the kingdom. So we are conducting the trial here. Maybe you wonder why there are only three of us, Deacon Doques." Bishop Vanya's voice changed to a gloomy one. intonation. "I think you will understand next, that I will enumerate the horrific and heinous crimes of this young man. "Joran!" the bishop shouted in a sharp and cold voice, obviously trying to attract the prisoner's attention.But to that young man, he might be no different than a croaking parrot.His eyes fell on Saryon and never looked away.And the catalyst saint had his hands powerlessly resting on his knees, and kept his head down.Compared with the two, Doques thought wildly, the saint is more like a prisoner... "Qiao Lang, son of Anya." Fan Ya said again, this time with anger.The sorcerer chanted a word, tightening the energy rings.Feeling their heat, the young man reluctantly looked away at the bishop with contempt. "You are accused of concealing the fact that you are the living dead. Do you plead guilty?" Joram was obviously the young man's name, and he refused to answer, raising his chin.The gesture stirred a shudder in Dorches--just a shudder, and depression.He knows this kid!But he couldn't recognize who it was.It felt almost like an itch somewhere on the back, but it just didn't work. The wizard spoke another word.The ring of fire lit up, another frightening sizzling and scorching stench, and the young man drew a quick, painful breath. "I plead guilty," said Joram, but he said it proudly in a loud, deep voice. "I was born the living dead. It was Emin's will, and I was taught to respect him." He glanced again at Saryon , Saryon was so depressed that he seemed unable to stand up again. "Qiao Lang, son of Anya, you are accused of murdering the foreman of Valen Village. You are accused of murdering a Duke Xisi." Van Ya continued to speak sharply. "Are you pleading guilty?" "Confession," said Joram again, less proudly this time.Those expressions on the dark face were elusive. "Damn them," he whispered. "One killed my mother. The other is an evil man." "Your mother attacked the supervisor. The evil person you mentioned is serving the kingdom." Bishop Fanya said coldly.The young man didn't answer, but just gave him a contemptuous look, his eyes were firm and unwavering. "That's a serious charge, Joram. Taking life for any reason is strictly forbidden by Emin. That alone is enough to sentence you to exile in the afterlife..." At last, something touched Saryon, shaking him from his hopeless chaos.The catalyst saint raised his head and quickly cast a meaningful look at Bishop Fanya.Dorches saw a flash of emotion—fear and anger animating those troubled eyes.But the bishop apparently turned a blind eye to this. "But these charges are nothing compared to the treason that brought you here to stand trial..." That's why it's just the three of us, Doques understands.Such a thing as the secret of the kingdom.Of course, that's what made me a Cardinal - to shut me up. "Qiao Lang, son of Anya, you are accused of being friends with a demon craftsman who masters dark crafts. You are accused of reading forbidden books..." Dorches saw Joram staring at Saryon again, this time in shock.He saw the flash of anger in Saryon's eyes die, and curled up, writhing guiltily.Dorches saw the young man's broad shoulders slump and heard him sigh.The sigh was very soft, but the intense pain contained in the sigh made Doques's always cynical heart ache.The proud head turned aside, no longer facing the catalyst saint, and the black hair fell around the face, as if the young man was willing to hide in the darkness forever. "Joram! Forgive me!" cried Saryon suddenly, stretching out his hands imploringly. "I'd have to tell them! If only you'd known—" "Deacon!" Fan Ya shouted nervously, his voice almost screaming. "You've lost your mind!" "Forgive me, Your Excellency." Saryon murmured and retreated into the chair. "Will not do it again." "Joran, son of Anya." The bishop continued, his breathing was heavy, and his hands were wriggling on the armrests of the stone chair.He leaned forward. "You are accused of the unforgivable crime of bringing back the Dark Stone, the wicked creation of the Demon Prince, to a world from which it was long since driven. You are accused of forging weapons from the rough stone of this demon! Joram, son of Anya , how do you defend? How do you defend?" Silence—noisy silence, but still silence.Van'yar's heavy panting, Saryon's ragged breathing, the hiss of the searing fire ring, all these sounds shook the silence but could not break it.Dorches knew that the young man would not answer.Seeing the ring of fire getting tighter and tighter, he immediately looked away.Before Joram could be forced to utter a word by the fire rings, they would burn him to the ground.Saryon also noticed it, stood up and gave a muffled cry.Duke Xisi looked at Fan Ya suspiciously, obviously not knowing how far he should push the prisoner. The bishop glared at Joram.He opened his mouth, but another voice finally broke the silence—a voice that slid like oil into the tension. "Your Excellency." The voice came from the darkness. "I don't blame the young man for refusing to answer. After all, you didn't call him by his real name. 'Joran, son of Anya.' Well, who is he? A bumpkin? You must call him by his real name, Bishop Vanya, then perhaps he will condescend to respond to your accusation." The sound hit the bishop like a thunderbolt from a clear sky.Although Dorches couldn't see Vanya's face under that light, he saw the sweat dripping from the head under the heavy bishop's crown, and heard the rapid breathing in the bishop's lungs.The chubby hands became weak and twitched slightly, and the fingers were clenched into a ball, like the legs of a frightened spider. "Call him by his real name," continued the peaceful, composed voice. "Joran. Son of Aveano, son of Empress Merilon. Perhaps, we should say, late Empress Merilon..."
His rationality was lost in astonishment, and he staggered under the weight of shock, curiosity, and growing fear.Dorches slumped gratefully into another stone chair that suddenly appeared—summoned by another Dukexis lurking in the shadows.He sat on the right side of Bishop Vanya, opposite to Saryon who sat on the left side of the bishop.Curiosity and shock were two feelings that Dorques could understand—he didn't know what was going on—but fear was so subtle that it was difficult to judge.He realized at last that the fear came from Saryon's pained expression, the pain that had changed the man so visibly that Dorches looked at him now and didn't know how he had recognized him before. Saryon, who was only in his early forties, looked older than Doches.His face was pale, and the light in "Merlin's Thumb" turned his face into ashes.Those eyes, once gentle and focused, the eyes of a dedicated mathematician, have become the eyes of someone caught in a trap.He watched Saryon keep wandering his eyes, as if he was looking for a way to escape, casting frantic gazes around from time to time, but most of the time he was staring at Bishop Vanya.The hopeless look in his eyes made the deacon very sad. It was this that aroused the deacon's fear.Dorches, who was older than Saryon, and more worldly than the scholar who had been sheltered, could see no hope for the poor saint in the placid face of the bishop, or in the cold eyes of his lord.Not to mention those fingers that feel like fish.Dorches suddenly had a frightening feeling that he had lived too long... He sat on the cold stone bench that could not be warmed by his own body temperature, feeling restless.He had been here for half an hour, and no one had said a word, except for Dukexis who had just whispered a spell and summoned a chair.Dorches looked at Saryon, and Saryon looked at Vanya, and Vanya stared sternly into the darkness of the great hall. If this situation doesn't end soon, I'm about to say something I regret.Dorches said to himself.I know I definitely will.What happened to Saryon?He looked like he lived with the devil!I-- "Deacon Doques." Bishop Fanya suddenly called out in a pleasant voice, which made him immediately alert. "My lord," Dorches tried to respond with equal grace. "There is a vacancy for the position of head saint of the royal family of the city-state of Jessair," Van Ya said. "Are you interested in this, my boy?" My boy, my ass.Dorches snorted and stared at Vanya.You may be old enough to be my father, but I doubt that kind of fat and round belly is capable of bearing children... He lost his mind, and the bishop's words finally sank into the head of the deacon.He stared at Vanya, and the light made him squint again—the light source had been enchanted and shone completely on his face. "Uh... the head of the family saint." Doques said hesitantly. "But... that would have to be done by a cardinal, Your Excellency. Of course you can't—" "Ah, but I can!" Van Ya assured him confidently, waving his chubby hand. "Emin revealed to me His will. You have served Him faithfully for many years, my child, and have not yet been rewarded. Now is the golden time of your life, and it is very appropriate to appoint you to this position. The papers are ready Well, as soon as we settle this little matter at hand, these papers will be signed, and you will be on your way to the palace. "Jessair is a charming city." The bishop continued to talk.He talked to Dorches as if they were the only two people in the hall, without even looking at Saryon - who was always looking at him, looking at him with all his heart. "Amazing zoo. There are even a few centaurs on display - well kept, of course." The head of the family saint!Cardinal!He was constantly reminded that if it had not been for his patron, he might have been thrown among the rows of beans as a lowly village saint, for one such person to accept such a position.Dorches had felt the smell of conspiracy like a dead rat before, and now he could smell it.This little thing in front of me.Van Ya said before.We'll be able to sign these papers... Dorches hoped that Saryon would give him a clue, but Saryon's eyes fell on his shoes again, but his drooping head looked - if he could tell - more depressed than before. "I—I don't know, Your Excellency," Dorches stammered, hoping to gain time to find out why he was being sold. "It was so sudden, it happened to me like this, I was just sleeping—" "Yes, we're sorry, but this matter is urgent. You can rest in the palace. But you don't need to make a decision now. Actually, it's better to wait until this trivial matter is resolved." Van Ya stopped, his chubby The face turned to the deacon, but because of the backlight, it was impossible to see the expression on his face. "Satisfactory answer, we pray to Emin." Dorches smiled wryly, and Van Ya had already looked up piously.From this point of view, the bishop believed that the old deacon could be bought and sold at will.Well, I am.Dorches admitted.Everyone has their own price tag.Dorches glanced at Saryon's sickly face.In this case, the price is too high. Van Ya obviously decided that the matter was settled, so he gestured. "Take the prisoner." The darkness behind him moved. "Now let's explain why you were pulled from your warm bed, Cardinal...I mean...Deacon Doques," said the Bishop, clasping his hands at the midline of his round figure.It may have been a meaningless gesture, but Dorches saw the fingers clenched, the knuckles white, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. Dorches no longer looked at Vanya, but looked at Saryon vigilantly.The saint cringed at the word "prisoner," as if wishing he could become part of the stone chair beneath him.He looked so bad that Dorches almost rushed over to call for the druid, but he was stopped by a sudden yellow light. Three fiery hissing energy rings appeared in front of Bishop Vanya.The young Duke Xisi appeared next to the energy ring, and then, a young man appeared inside.The energy ring circled around the young man's strong arms and thighs, sticking very close but not touching his body.Dorches sat some distance away, could still feel the heat of the three rings, and cringed at the thought of what would happen to the young man if he tried to escape. However, the prisoner did not appear to be planning to escape.He looked numb, standing where he was with his head bowed, his long, straight black hair falling to his shoulders and hanging around his face.He was about eighteen years old, Dorches guessed, looking at his fit body with both envy and regret.We are here to judge this young man.Dorches analyzed it.But for what?Why not let Duke Sisi handle it?Is he a catalyst saint? ...No, it's impossible.Which Catalyst saint has muscles like that... why just the three of us?Why the three of us? "You are wondering, Deacon Doques, what happened." Bishop Van Ya said. "We apologize again. Only you, I'm afraid, don't know anything about it. Deacon Saryon—" Upon hearing the name, the young man raised his head sharply.He shook off the black hair in front of him, squinted his eyes in the bright light, and after he got used to the light, he began to look around. "Father!" he shouted inarticulately, forgetting the restraints on his body, and hurried forward.With a sizzling sound, there was a smell of burnt flesh.The young man gasped in pain, but did not cry out. Dorches was surprised that the prisoner knew Saryon, and was surprised again when he saw Saryon's reaction.The catalyst saint turned his eyes away, and raised his hand unconsciously—it was not an action to guard against an attack, but a gesture of refusal that he felt that he was not worthy of being approached. "Deacon Saryon—" Bishop Fanya continued calmly. "Know what happened, so I explain to you now. Brother Dorches. As you know, Simharon's decree requires that when a case involves a catalyst saint or a threat to the kingdom, the trial There should be a Catalyst Saint at the table, and the rest will be handled by Duke Sis." Dorches only paid half his attention to what Van Ya said.He knew the decree, and he had already guessed that the current case must be related to the safety of the kingdom-but how could such a young man threaten the kingdom far above him?Dorches studied the prisoner.He grew to believe that this young man would be a menacing force. Those dark eyes, these eyes looked familiar, where had he seen them?Those eyes were fixed on Saryon, burning with a burning light.Those thick and black eyebrows, twisted into a line above the bridge of the nose, showed a warm nature; the firm chin, the handsome, pensive face; the voluminous black hair that fell over the shoulders; the proud posture, the fearless eyes... ...a truly formidable personality who would change the position of the stars if he chose. Where have I seen him?Dorches asked himself again.The subconscious knew something, but couldn't drag it to the surface of memory, and the irritation gnawed at him.I have seen such a proudly raised head, such shiny hair, such haughty gaze... But where did I see it? "The young man's name is Joram." Hearing the name, Dorches' attention immediately turned back to Van Ya.No, he thought disappointedly, the name meant nothing.I still know- "He has been accused of multiple crimes, one of which is threatening the security of the kingdom. So we are conducting the trial here. Maybe you wonder why there are only three of us, Deacon Doques." Bishop Vanya's voice changed to a gloomy one. intonation. "I think you will understand next, that I will enumerate the horrific and heinous crimes of this young man. "Joran!" the bishop shouted in a sharp and cold voice, obviously trying to attract the prisoner's attention.But to that young man, he might be no different than a croaking parrot.His eyes fell on Saryon and never looked away.And the catalyst saint had his hands powerlessly resting on his knees, and kept his head down.Compared with the two, Doques thought wildly, the saint is more like a prisoner... "Qiao Lang, son of Anya." Fan Ya said again, this time with anger.The sorcerer chanted a word, tightening the energy rings.Feeling their heat, the young man reluctantly looked away at the bishop with contempt. "You are accused of concealing the fact that you are the living dead. Do you plead guilty?" Joram was obviously the young man's name, and he refused to answer, raising his chin.The gesture stirred a shudder in Dorches--just a shudder, and depression.He knows this kid!But he couldn't recognize who it was.It felt almost like an itch somewhere on the back, but it just didn't work. The wizard spoke another word.The ring of fire lit up, another frightening sizzling and scorching stench, and the young man drew a quick, painful breath. "I plead guilty," said Joram, but he said it proudly in a loud, deep voice. "I was born the living dead. It was Emin's will, and I was taught to respect him." He glanced again at Saryon , Saryon was so depressed that he seemed unable to stand up again. "Qiao Lang, son of Anya, you are accused of murdering the foreman of Valen Village. You are accused of murdering a Duke Xisi." Van Ya continued to speak sharply. "Are you pleading guilty?" "Confession," said Joram again, less proudly this time.Those expressions on the dark face were elusive. "Damn them," he whispered. "One killed my mother. The other is an evil man." "Your mother attacked the supervisor. The evil person you mentioned is serving the kingdom." Bishop Fanya said coldly.The young man didn't answer, but just gave him a contemptuous look, his eyes were firm and unwavering. "That's a serious charge, Joram. Taking life for any reason is strictly forbidden by Emin. That alone is enough to sentence you to exile in the afterlife..." At last, something touched Saryon, shaking him from his hopeless chaos.The catalyst saint raised his head and quickly cast a meaningful look at Bishop Fanya.Dorches saw a flash of emotion—fear and anger animating those troubled eyes.But the bishop apparently turned a blind eye to this. "But these charges are nothing compared to the treason that brought you here to stand trial..." That's why it's just the three of us, Doques understands.Such a thing as the secret of the kingdom.Of course, that's what made me a Cardinal - to shut me up. "Qiao Lang, son of Anya, you are accused of being friends with a demon craftsman who masters dark crafts. You are accused of reading forbidden books..." Dorches saw Joram staring at Saryon again, this time in shock.He saw the flash of anger in Saryon's eyes die, and curled up, writhing guiltily.Dorches saw the young man's broad shoulders slump and heard him sigh.The sigh was very soft, but the intense pain contained in the sigh made Doques's always cynical heart ache.The proud head turned aside, no longer facing the catalyst saint, and the black hair fell around the face, as if the young man was willing to hide in the darkness forever. "Joram! Forgive me!" cried Saryon suddenly, stretching out his hands imploringly. "I'd have to tell them! If only you'd known—" "Deacon!" Fan Ya shouted nervously, his voice almost screaming. "You've lost your mind!" "Forgive me, Your Excellency." Saryon murmured and retreated into the chair. "Will not do it again." "Joran, son of Anya." The bishop continued, his breathing was heavy, and his hands were wriggling on the armrests of the stone chair.He leaned forward. "You are accused of the unforgivable crime of bringing back the Dark Stone, the wicked creation of the Demon Prince, to a world from which it was long since driven. You are accused of forging weapons from the rough stone of this demon! Joram, son of Anya , how do you defend? How do you defend?" Silence—noisy silence, but still silence.Van'yar's heavy panting, Saryon's ragged breathing, the hiss of the searing fire ring, all these sounds shook the silence but could not break it.Dorches knew that the young man would not answer.Seeing the ring of fire getting tighter and tighter, he immediately looked away.Before Joram could be forced to utter a word by the fire rings, they would burn him to the ground.Saryon also noticed it, stood up and gave a muffled cry.Duke Xisi looked at Fan Ya suspiciously, obviously not knowing how far he should push the prisoner. The bishop glared at Joram.He opened his mouth, but another voice finally broke the silence—a voice that slid like oil into the tension. "Your Excellency." The voice came from the darkness. "I don't blame the young man for refusing to answer. After all, you didn't call him by his real name. 'Joran, son of Anya.' Well, who is he? A bumpkin? You must call him by his real name, Bishop Vanya, then perhaps he will condescend to respond to your accusation." The sound hit the bishop like a thunderbolt from a clear sky.Although Dorches couldn't see Vanya's face under that light, he saw the sweat dripping from the head under the heavy bishop's crown, and heard the rapid breathing in the bishop's lungs.The chubby hands became weak and twitched slightly, and the fingers were clenched into a ball, like the legs of a frightened spider. "Call him by his real name," continued the peaceful, composed voice. "Joran. Son of Aveano, son of Empress Merilon. Perhaps, we should say, late Empress Merilon..."