Chapter 43: Supreme Court
Anastasia's voice broke the quiet.
"Oh? Unlike that Cyclops, this Twin Shadow Viper is a Rank-1 Magical Beast—rare and temperamental. I heard four Acolyte Wizards and seven knights chased it for a full day before they managed to bring it down."
Raven gave a tired sigh.
"Please don't circle around the point, ma'am. What's the final rate?"
Her crimson lips curved upward.
"Eight thousand five hundred gold coins. Bring the full sum within three days, and I'll make it eight thousand."
Raven rubbed his temple.
"You don't negotiate, do you?"
"Not with someone who knows the worth of what he's buying," she said, her tone honeyed but sharp.
He could only nod in defeat.
"Do you have any mutant goblins in stock?" he asked.
Anastasia blinked, then tilted her head.
"Goblins? You can find those carcasses in backwater shops, even in the rural outskirts."
"I'm not talking about common trash," Raven said. His eyes gleamed faintly. "I'm looking for mutant goblins with unique skills. I heard larger companies preserve rare ones for the Ida Festival."
The air between them thickened. Anastasia crossed her arms.
"Those specimens draw crowds. High-rank wizards pay absurdly for them. If one catches their eye, the price can go ten times higher than a regular Rank-1 beast."
"What if I offer an exchange?" Raven countered. "A unique corpse, one not even listed in the Wizards' Encyclopedia."
Her smile faltered for the first time.
"Let me see it first," she said, her tone losing its playful edge.
Raven simply nodded.
Anastasia gestured toward a circular platform etched with runes. The floor pulsed faintly underfoot.
"Place your corpses here," she said. "The identification array will do the rest."
Raven touched his spatial ring. A shimmer of blue light—then the corpse of a five-meter-long Ice wyrm appeared, its frosted scales reflecting the runes' glow.
Anastasia's lips parted slightly in awe as the identification array flared a golden hue. An unseen force rose like wind and wrapped around the corpse.
"The body's still intact… but no trace of bloodline essence," she murmured, before her gaze flicked toward the Cyclops corpse resting nearby. "Tell me—are you researching the Warlock Pathway?"
Raven's heart skipped a beat.
'She knows about Warlocks?'
Inside his mind, the familiar, calm voice whispered:
[Of course she does. Before Wizardry, humans practiced the Warlock Pathway. They abandoned it because of its shackles—each warlock can follow only one bloodline. And humans lacked the means to purify what they extracted, leaving their bloodlines impure and unstable.]
Raven's thoughts deepened.
'What if someone could extract high-purity essence? Wouldn't that bypass the shackle?'
[Do you know why even Wizards struggle to kill a beast of the same rank, lad?] Zera asked.
[A Rank-1 Giant's strength is sixty to a hundred times that of a man. Even the strongest Rank-1 human barely reaches tenfold. If someone absorbed a Giant's essence at ninety-per cent purity—]
'Their body would gain immense power?'
[No. It would explode. Even your Devouring Bloodline can't defy that limit forever.]
Raven's lips tightened.
Anastasia noticed his silence.
"Relax," she said softly. "Wizards don't pry into others' secrets. Just be wary of what bloodlines you take."
"The one experimenting with bloodlines is my senior," Raven replied. "I just handle the sales."
Her brow arched.
"As long as he knows what he's doing." She turned back toward the array. "Next?"
Raven nodded and drew another corpse from his ring.
The thing that landed on the platform made Anastasia's breath hitch—a bloated worm-like creature, covered with dozens of closed eyelids that twitched faintly under the light.
"Is… this the one?" she whispered, her voice trembling despite herself.
She activated the array again. Golden light rippled across the grotesque body. Veins, nerves, organs—all formed patterns she couldn't comprehend.
"I've never—never seen such anatomy," she muttered. "This thing's value could easily—" She caught herself and straightened. "Although… unique, it lacks bloodline essence. I can offer five thousand gold coins."
Zera's voice hissed in Raven's ear.
[Bargain. Hard. She's underplaying it—this corpse isn't unique; it's singular. The only one of its kind in existence.]
Raven gave a sharp snort.
"Forget it. I'll sell it elsewhere."
He reached toward his ring—but Anastasia's hand shot up.
"Wait!" she said, a little too fast. "I can… exchange it. For a unique goblin corpse. Or two."
Her smile was back, but her eyes glimmered with unease. This thing isn't in any record… not even from our world, she realized.
"One mutant Cyclops, one Twin Shadow Viper, and one unique goblin corpse," Raven said. His tone left no room for debate.
The temperature in the room dropped.
"Shameless," Anastasia hissed.
A pulse of spiritual pressure filled the hall—an invisible hand that froze Raven in place.
'Shit—!'
Before he could react, Selene moved. She flickered like a shadow, catching the rifle that materialized in midair and aimed straight at Anastasia's forehead.
"Retract your power," Selene said calmly, finger resting on the trigger. "Please, ma'am."
The weapon's faint hum cut through the silence. Anastasia's spiritual sense flared—and what she sensed made her pupils shrink.
"An… Aether weapon?"
"Yes," Selene said coldly. "My captain used this to kill an Expert-rank Walker. I don't know if it can kill you—but it can hurt you."
A beat of silence.
Then Anastasia sighed and lowered her hand.
"Haa… reckless, both of you." She dismissed her aura. "Fine. Take them. But promise me one thing—priority business with our shop."
Raven exhaled slowly and nodded.
"Deal."
A wave of her hand, and two glass containers drifted toward them.
"The Viper and Cyclops are yours," she said. "When your senior extracts their blood essence, return the Viper's body—I'll repurchase it at half price."
"And the Cyclops?" Raven asked.
"It'll rot once the essence is drawn. But the Viper's organs remain useful—its fangs, venom gland, and bones. Keep it preserved."
He nodded, storing the corpses carefully in his ring.
"Follow me. The goblins are stored below."
They passed through a narrow corridor, down a spiral staircase, until the air grew thick with mana and preservative fumes. The underground chamber glowed with blue light—hundreds of glass pods lined the walls, each holding a floating magical beast in liquid suspension. Some twitched faintly, trapped between life and death.
"These pods keep them pristine for years," Anastasia explained.
Raven ignored her. He moved from one pod to the next—his eyes scanning each goblin corpse.
Finally, he stopped before one with yellow-black skin and milky white eyes.
"This one."
Anastasia tapped the controls. The liquid drained, and the pod hissed open. Raven stored the body without hesitation.
"Pleasure doing business," he said with a faint smile.
"Please visit again," Anastasia replied, her professional mask returning.
The moment they left, her expression hardened.
"I need to investigate that man," she muttered. "That corpse… wasn't from this world."
Outside, the afternoon light spilt across the cobblestone street.
"Where to now, my lord?" Selene asked, still shaken. Her voice was soft, careful.
"I didn't expect her to attack us. If you hadn't warned me, we'd have lost more than gold."
Raven's gaze turned distant, his voice low.
"The Supreme Court."
"Court?" Selene blinked. "Why go there?"
"I have business."
He stepped into the carriage without looking back.
Selene sighed and followed.
"I'll never understand what he's thinking."
The carriage wheels screeched softly as they rolled to a halt.
Outside, the Supreme Court of Bloodstone City rose like a marble colossus. Morning light gilded its circular walls, spilling over carved pillars and intricate murals. The air itself seemed heavier near the gate—disciplined, expectant. A row of red-uniformed officers stood guard, rifles slung across their shoulders, faces carved from stone.
"Carriage can't go beyond the fence, sir," Toby murmured from the driver's seat.
Raven leaned forward, eyes scanning the glittering iron gate. "Stop here. I'll walk."
The carriage eased to a stop by the roadside. Raven pushed open the door and paused. "Toby, wait outside. I need a moment with Jacob."
The boy nodded quickly and stepped away.
The door closed behind him with a soft click. Inside the dim cabin, Raven turned to Jacob, his tone level and measured. "Take Toby. Scout this place—guards, supervisors, entry records, patrol routes, even the cleaning schedules. If someone breathes near this court after dark, I want to know."
Jacob's brow arched. "That's… oddly specific." He hesitated, studying Raven's face. "You didn't come to the capital for sightseeing, did you, my lord?"
Raven's smile flickered like a knife glinting in shadow. "You'll learn when the time's right."
Selene's gaze lingered on him, her fingers tracing the edge of her cloak. He never moves without a reason. Even in silence, Raven was calculating, always two steps ahead.
When he stepped out, the sunlight brushed his face, soft but fleeting.
Through the carriage window, Selene watched him exchange quiet words with Toby near the gate. The boy nodded solemnly and vanished into the crowd.
"I can't read him," she murmured.
Jacob's voice came low and certain. "Don't try to. Just watch—and if things turn ugly, keep your distance."
"Distance?" She frowned. "Aren't we supposed to protect him?"
He nodded toward the crimson wall of officers. "Those aren't ordinary guards. Expert-rank Walkers. That bald one with the twin-star badge? Commander of the Court Guard."
Selene's eyes tracked the man—broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, his very presence bending the air. "He's beyond the Expert Realm," she whispered.
"Exactly." Jacob adjusted his cuffs. "So don't play hero."
Raven had already joined the slow-moving line at the gate. Each entrant was searched and scanned; even spatial rings were inspected.
Thorough, he thought, watching as a merchant's storage ring was pried open by an officer's rune-lit baton. They're even afraid of what people carry in their pockets.
When his turn came, a red-haired officer stepped forward, parchment in hand. "Name and purpose."
"Thomas Holmes. I came to attend the hearing of Convict Shirley for the Royal Princess kidnapping case."
The officer blinked. "You're serious?"
"I am."
The man exhaled a disbelieving laugh. "You're the first one who wants to watch that circus. Good luck, boy."
Raven gave a polite nod and walked past.
Inside the gate, the world shifted.
The Supreme Court wasn't a building—it was an empire carved from stone. White pillars coiled upward like frozen lightning. Fountains flung arcs of crystal water into the air. Uniformed guards patrolled with mechanical precision, boots clicking in rhythm. High above, the twin-serpent banner of the Empire rippled in the wind.
Nobles in velvet coats and lawyers in black robes strode along the marble paths, their voices weaving through the crisp air like murmurs of power.
Raven slowed before the grand entrance. "Selene," he said quietly, "we're going in."
Jacob split off with Toby toward the administrative wing, already flipping open his notebook.
Inside, the Court breathed authority. Every sound—every whisper—was swallowed by the vastness of the hall. Lawyers argued in low voices beneath gilded arches. Guards watched from every corner, hands resting near their blades.
The scent of ink, candle wax, and old parchment hung heavy in the air.
Selene's eyes darted from painting to painting—ancient judges with hollow eyes, scales raised like threats rather than symbols. "I didn't realize justice looked so… cold."
Raven's tone was mild.
"There are four levels of court. The lower ones handle theft and disputes. The High Court deals with criminal matters and administrative issues. But this…" His gaze lingered on the grand staircase ahead. "…This is where they judge the nation's fate."
He paused, fingers curling into a glove. Once the Chief Judge gives his verdict on Aunt Shirley… no one—not even the Emperor—can reverse it.
[So even the throne bows to parchment?]
Zera's voice coiled through his thoughts, cold and curious.
[Tell me, Raven. How many of these men are mortals?]
Raven's eyes swept the corridor. Every person radiated mana—subtle, disciplined, unmistakable. Even the clerks carried the aura of trained Walkers.
None.
[So much for "rule of the people,"] Zera sneered. [The Alliance owns this court, not the Empire.]
Raven said nothing. He didn't need to. The truth weighed heavier than the marble walls around him.
The corridor opened into the hearing chamber—a sanctum of light and judgment.
Hundreds of chandeliers scattered golden light across the dome. Magic glimmers danced along the carved runes etched into the walls. At the heart stood seven thrones of justice, arranged in a crescent. The central seat, elevated by a single step, gleamed with the Empire's sigil—a coiled serpent devouring its tail.
The audience benches curved outward in rings, from velvet-lined seats of nobles to the plain wooden ones in the back. Few were filled.
The air itself seemed tired.
Raven and Selene took their seats among the crowd.
The defendant stood within a rune-laced cage—an old wizard, trembling, his eyes hollow. The court clerk's voice rang through the hall, reading charges of smuggling enchanted potions from the Main Continent.
Selene leaned close. "Smuggling? That's a County Court matter."
Raven's eyes stayed on the defendant. "Not when the smuggler's a wizard. The Wizard Act of 845 treats that as treason."
"Death… for trade?" she whispered.
"That's how monopolies breathe," Raven murmured. His gaze flicked to the golden banners. And how the Alliance tightens its leash.
[If they outlaw trade, what else do they control?] Zera's tone was thoughtful now. [Knowledge? Magic itself?]
[If you share your potion formula with Judith, they might use this law to destroy you.]
Raven's jaw tensed. Then I'll move before they can.
Hours passed. One case after another, all the same. Guilt was proclaimed before the argument began. Punishments were decided before words were spoken.
Even when an Archduke's cousin was accused of plotting against the Crown Prince, the verdict arrived like a hammer blow—instant, absolute.
'A puppet show,' Raven thought.
'And they call it justice.'
When the final gavel struck and the next trial date was announced, Raven rose. "We're leaving."
Selene followed, glancing at him. "You're not staying for the Princess's kidnapping hearing?"
"It'll be no different," he said. "They'll bring out the defendant only on the final day—"
He stopped.
A voice cracked through the crowd—raw, desperate.
"Please, Sir Beckham, I've given you everything! All my savings, even borrowed gold! Please, save my sister!"
The woman's black hair shimmered beneath the light, her eyes burning like blue glass despite the exhaustion shadowing her face.
The advocate she pleaded to—a grey-haired man—only sighed. "It's not about payment, Madam Jeanne. The Royal Family is involved. If I stand against them, my family dies."
Raven froze.
'Royal Family?'
He tapped his monocle.
…
[Name: Jeanne
Age: 45
Nationality: Zenith Empire
Title: 24th Concubine
Class: Official Walker (Rank-1), Fifth Circle
Health: Normal
Current Status: Worried
Attributes — Strength: 1.9 | Agility: 1.8 | Vitality: 1.9 | Luck: 1.5 | Spirit: 1.5
Skills — Shadow Walk, Stealth
Affinity — Darkness (Low)]
…
[Oh? That woman… she's your mother, isn't she?] Zera whispered.
Raven didn't answer.
In his mind, there were only two family members left—his sister and the aunt standing trial.
The woman before him was a memory carved from someone else's life. Someone he no longer was.
Even so… a flicker of warmth broke through the years of cold.
He exhaled. The sound was almost a sigh. "Haa… I should go."
He turned away, leaving her voice behind him in the echoing hall.
Outside, sunlight spilt like molten gold across the steps—but it felt cold against his skin.
Jacob and Toby waited by the carriage.
None of them spoke as they rode away, the white dome of the Supreme Court shrinking in the distance.