The length of the trial did not hamper the following proceedings. The Assembly continued after Ashen and Lucia took back their seats.
The next topic was about the countermeasures to be taken. This one took the bulk of the meeting's time. Even so, the solutions conceived were less than stellar.
It was less the Assembly members' incompetence and more their helplessness in the face of an enemy that was practically impossible to strategize against.
It was akin to nature's wrath. You wouldn't know when or where the catastrophe would hit. And even if you did, there was little you could do.
In the end, they settled on creating an early alert system for Sin Lords to mobilize in case of a similar emergency, but the vast distance between each domain made such a system almost futile.
The only saving grace of this section of the meeting was the successful conception of a new mobilization system for the Seravellian armies in case of mass marching, so that the tragedy of cultist ambushes that made them lose millions of lives wouldn't repeat itself.
"Finally, we have reached this Assembly's last agenda." The Lust Lord's voice carried a note of satisfaction. "Awarding merit."
Ashen wasn't really paying attention anymore. His eyes kept drifting to the still frozen Lucia beside him.
She had been in that state from the moment Antonio surrendered and accepted his death.
For Lucia, her body moved on autopilot while her mind remained trapped in the moment he burned. As if she simply couldn't process it. Her thoughts refused to move past something so fundamentally illogical.
'The path toward life was clear. So why?' she kept wondering. 'Why did you not take it?'
'Did I miss something?' she asked herself. 'No, I did not,' she answered.
'Did I underestimate you?' she asked the dead. 'No, you were clearly smart enough to see it.' And his past actions gave her the answer.
'A puppet that values something above even its own life... that's the only answer.' She finally concluded.
'No, not a puppet.' Then she corrected herself. '...The moment I gave you a way out, and you chose not to take it by dying voluntarily, was the moment you stopped being a puppet.'
'You lived all your life on strings, and the moment you cut them, you ended up a corpse. How ironic.'
"Is that all?" A councilman suddenly spoke, breaking her out of her reverie.
"Of course not." Cornelia's teasing voice echoed in return as she gestured toward Ashen's position. "I thought you were saving the best for last, but you really seem to have forgotten our dear hero here."
"...You are absolutely right, my Lord. How inattentive of me." The councilman coughed awkwardly, his face reddening slightly.
"Go on then. Fix your mistake." She nodded with amusement.
"..."
The man stayed silent for a moment, not knowing how to extract himself from the hole he'd found himself in.
Ashen Hart was currently a cesspool of politics. Now, he had to somehow judge the merit of such an individual. Whether he low-balled him or gave him his due, he was guaranteed to offend someone.
His gaze flickered upward toward the highest seats, seeking guidance that didn't come.
"My Lord..." He finally spoke, choosing his words with visible care. "This individual's merits seem to be above my station to distribute."
"Then I shall handle it." Cornelia leaned forward slightly on her throne, her tone carrying satisfaction. "First, the obvious. Ashen Hart's crimes, such as they were, have been proven false. His imprisonment in the Pit is hereby annulled, and all records of such will be expunged."
She paused, letting that sink in.
"Any objections?"
Silence greeted her question. No one was foolish enough to argue that point after the trial's conclusion. A few councilmen shifted in their seats, but none spoke.
"Good." Cornelia's smile widened. "Moving on. For his extraordinary service in defending Ashbastion, for slaying countless Narkals, and for defeating an Outer God's manifestation that even I struggled against..."
She let the words hang in the air, her gaze sweeping across the assembly.
"I propose that Ashen Hart be granted the title of Count."
The murmurs started immediately.
A portly councilman stood, his multiple chins wobbling as he spoke with exaggerated concern. "My Lord, surely you understand the implications of such a title."
He spread his hands wide, his expression the picture of reasonable worry.
"A Count is no mere honorary position. It requires significant responsibility. A fief to govern, an army to command, lands to protect and develop." He shook his head slowly. "These are no small matters."
Another councilman rose, this one thin and sharp-featured. His voice carried the tone of someone used to speaking in this kind of setting.
"Indeed, my Lord. While we do not question Sir Hart's combat prowess, his feats speak for themselves; governance is another matter entirely."
He gestured delicately, as if explaining something regrettable but necessary.
"Managing territories, collecting taxes, maintaining order, adjudicating disputes... these require skills and experience beyond martial ability. The man is barely into his twenties. Far too young, far too inexperienced for such burdens."
A third councilman joined in, his tone pitched to sound helpful. "Perhaps a monetary reward would be more appropriate? A generous sum, certainly. Or a ceremonial position without the actual burdens of rule? We could even grant him an estate within the city—"
"Are you suggesting," Cornelia's voice cut through like a blade, "that the man who saved your collective asses doesn't deserve proper recognition?"
The portly councilman quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Not at all, my Lord! We merely wish to ensure that Sir Hart is not overwhelmed by responsibilities he may not yet be prepared for. It would be a disservice to him—"
"How thoughtful." The disdain in Cornelia's voice was as clear as day. "Your concern for his well-being is truly touching."
Before the councilmen could continue their objections, another voice cut through the chamber.
"I approve of the Wrath Lord's proposal."
The Lust Mistress's words rang unexpectedly.
Every head turned toward her throne.
"The man has proven his worth in the most dramatic fashion possible. A title is the minimum we can offer for such service." She paused delicately. "Unless the esteemed councilmen wish to explain to their constituents why they opposed rewarding the hero who saved them all?"
Her tone remained pleasant, but the implication was crystal clear.
"..."
"..."
The portly councilman slowly sat back down, his face carefully neutral. The sharp-featured councilman's jaw worked for a moment before he, too, resumed his seat.
"We withdraw our objections to the title, your Holiness," the sharp-featured councilman said at last, his voice tight.
"Excellent." Cornelia's smile widened. "Then let us discuss his fief—"
"Indeed, let us." The sharp-featured councilman stood again, recovering quickly. His composure had returned, and with it, a certain calculated gleam in his eyes.
"As we mentioned, a Count requires lands to govern. Significant lands, given the extraordinary merit in question."
He gestured grandly, as if he wanted to materialize the massive size of the land he was describing from the gesture alone.
"However, my Lord, as you well know, the lands behind Ashbastion's walls have been claimed for generations. Every plot and every district… every territory is held by noble families with ancient rights and sacred inheritances."
He placed a hand over his heart, his expression one of sincere regret.
"We cannot simply uproot established families to make room, no matter how worthy the new Count. The political complications alone would be... considerable."
The portly councilman nodded eagerly, jumping in with renewed energy. "Precisely! But there is a solution, my Lord. A rather elegant one, if I may say so."
He pointed toward the massive windows, beyond which the dark landscape stretched endlessly.
"The Wrath Domain is vast, my Lord. Surely we can find suitable lands for our new Count."
Cornelia's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you suggesting—"
"Outside the walls, naturally." The sharp-featured councilman spoke as if this were the most reasonable thing in the world. "After all, with such great merit comes great reward. The territory Count Hart is entitled to should be equally grand in scope."
He spread his hands, his smile almost apologetic.
"And there's simply no space of that magnitude within the walls. Not without displacing dozens of noble houses. But beyond them..? Limitless opportunity."
"You want to give him land crawling with Narkals?" Cornelia's voice dropped to a growl.
The portly councilman's expression remained earnest and utterly innocent. "Not at all, my Lord! We want to give him the opportunity to expand humanity's reach. To reclaim what was lost!"
His voice took on an enthusiastic pitch.
"Think of it—a true pioneer's reward! The chance to build something new, something great. To be the first to establish a proper settlement outside Ashbastion's walls in generations!"
Another councilman joined in, his tone pitched to sound encouraging. "And as Lady Evernight so eloquently argued during the trial, Sir Hart's potential is extraordinary. Truly unprecedented."
He paused, letting that hang in the air.
"Surely a man capable of defeating an Outer God's manifestation cannot be afraid of mere monsters, yes? With his abilities, what others would see as wastelands could become thriving territories under his governance."
The sharp-featured councilman nodded thoughtfully. "It would be an insult to his capabilities to suggest otherwise. To give him safe, settled lands would imply we doubt his ability to handle challenges."
"Indeed," the portly councilman added. "And the merit he has earned deserves a commensurate territory. A small, safe plot would be... inadequate for a hero of his stature."
"...Or is he simply not up to the task? Will our great hero amount to nothing more than a fleeting shooting star?"
Cornelia's hand clenched on her throne's armrest hard enough that the metal groaned.
'Bunch of greedy geezers,' she thought furiously. 'Can't even spare a decent plot of land.'
She opened her mouth to object, her mind racing for arguments. But the problem was simple. Unlike Lucia, she didn't have a slick tongue for political maneuvering.
Her specialty involved more burning things and less talking, and these vultures knew it.
Every counter-argument she could think of either made her sound like she was doubting Ashen's abilities or would require her to admit that the territories outside were genuinely worthless. Either way, they'd twist it.
"The Wrath Lord seems... hesitant." The sharp-featured councilman observed with false concern. "Perhaps she has reservations about Count Hart's capabilities after all?"
Cornelia's eyes flashed with fury, but before she could respond with something she'd regret, Edward stepped forward.
"Perhaps," the Kingmaker's impartial voice cut through the tension, "we should ask the man himself. Count Hart, what say you to these proposals?"
All attention shifted to Ashen.
He'd been watching the political theater with something between amusement and resignation. When the judge called on him, he simply shrugged, his expression unbothered.
"I accept."
The councilmen's relief was palpable. Several of them visibly relaxed, while others exchanged satisfied glances.
Cornelia looked ready to object on his behalf, but Ashen caught her eye and gave a small shake of his head.
'Either way, I'm confident in making it work,' he thought. 'Land is land. I've been killing monsters for over a year straight anyway. What's a few more?'
He'd learned enough about power dynamics to recognize a trap when he saw one. But he'd also learned that sometimes the best move was to walk into the trap and break it from the inside.
Besides, being away from all these scheming nobles might actually be a blessing in disguise.
"Excellent!" The portly councilman beamed, his relief transforming into enthusiasm. "A wise decision, Count Hart. Truly wise. We shall survey suitable territories and provide you with detailed maps and—"
"There is still the matter of his retinue." The sharp-featured councilman interrupted smoothly. "A Count cannot govern without forces to maintain order and defend his lands."
Cornelia leaned forward, finally seeing an opening. If she couldn't get him decent land, at least she could ensure he had proper soldiers.
"I propose that—"
"If I may, my Lord." The sharp-featured councilman cut her off with impeccable timing, turning to address the assembly at large. "We have a rather elegant solution to multiple problems."
Cornelia's eyes narrowed dangerously, but she held her tongue.
The councilman gestured toward Ashen with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Count Hart commanded a division during the siege. Many of those soldiers were, as we all know, criminals from the Pit. Condemned men who fought for their freedom."
The portly councilman picked up the thread seamlessly, his voice taking on a tone of pleased discovery.
"Under Count Hart's command, these men performed admirably! They earned merit enough to buy their freedom, by our laws. Approximately twenty thousand souls, if the records are correct."
He paused, letting that number sink in.
"Now, twenty thousand freed criminals presents us with... something of a dilemma. Where do they go? What do they do? How do we ensure public safety while honoring their earned freedom?"
Another councilman nodded gravely. "It's a significant concern. These men, while they've proven themselves in battle, remain... let us say, questionable in their backgrounds. Murderers, thieves, violent offenders..."
"Which is precisely why," the sharp-featured councilman interjected with the attitude of someone who had just found the solution to a complex puzzle, "they would be perfect for Count Hart's retinue!"
He spread his hands as if presenting a gift.
"They already know him. Already follow his commands. Already trust his leadership. And he, having commanded them successfully through the siege, understands how to manage such... unique individuals."
The portly councilman nodded enthusiastically. "It's perfect! The Count gets his army, the criminals get their freedom and a fresh start in new territories, and the cities remain safe from any potential... complications."
His smile was almost beatific.
"Everyone benefits! The former prisoners can help carve out new settlements without posing any risk to established populations. Count Hart gains loyal soldiers who've already proven their dedication to him. And we solve the rather delicate question of integration all at once."
"Out of sight, out of mind," another councilman added, then caught himself. "That is to say—fresh opportunities for everyone involved!"
Cornelia looked like she wanted to set the entire right wing of the assembly on fire.
"This is—" she started, her voice tight with barely controlled rage.
"Quite generous," the Greed Lord interjected, his tone amused. "Twenty thousand trained soldiers for a new Count? My, my. The council is being remarkably accommodating."
The councilmen shifted uncomfortably, uncertain whether they were being mocked or praised.
"Unless, of course, Cornelia, you have objections to these fine gentlemen's proposals?" Greed lord's voice carried a subtle challenge. "Do you doubt that Count Hart can manage such men? Or do you believe they haven't truly earned their freedom?"
It was a perfect trap.
Object, and Cornelia would either insult Ashen's capabilities or deny the criminals their rightfully earned freedom. Accept, and Ashen would be shoved out into monster-infested territory with an army of former murderers and thieves.
Cornelia's jaw worked for a moment. Her hands clenched and unclenched on the armrests of her throne.
"No objections," she finally ground out, each word spat out.
"Wonderful!" The sharp-featured councilman clapped his hands together once, his satisfaction evident. "Then I believe we have concluded this matter most satisfactorily."
He turned toward Ashen with a smile that was all politeness and no warmth.
"Count Ashen Hart, you are hereby granted a fief to be determined through survey of available territories beyond Ashbastion's walls, along with a retinue of twenty thousand soldiers from your former division. May you bring glory to the Wrath Domain and expand humanity's reach."
While the words were ceremonial and properly respectful… The reality was that they'd just exiled him to monster-infested wastelands with an army of criminals, all while making it sound like a generous reward.
Edward looked between Ashen and the councilmen, his expression carefully neutral. "Count Hart, do you have any questions regarding these arrangements?"
Ashen shook his head, a slight smile playing at his lips. "No, your honor. It's all very clear."
'Crystal clear, in fact.'
"Then this Assembly is concluded." The Greed Lord rose from his throne, his silhouette commanding even through the concealing fog. "Let the records show that Count Ashen Hart has been justly rewarded for his extraordinary service to humanity."
His voice carried a note of amusement that suggested he found the entire proceeding entertaining.
"Hear, hear," the councilmen chorused with varying degrees of enthusiasm and poorly concealed satisfaction.
As the assembly members began to disperse, filing out of the chamber in groups of murmuring nobles and satisfied councilmen, Ashen remained seated.
He looked down at Lucia, whose hand was still loosely intertwined with his. She didn't have any authority to interject during the merit discussion, so she'd been silent throughout, her eyes distant.
Around them, the grand chamber slowly emptied. Sin Lords vanished in swirls. Nobles gathered in clusters, already gossiping about the day's events. Councilmen congratulated each other on their "generosity."
Ashen Hart, newly minted Count of nowhere in particular, sat with his frozen partner and contemplated his new life.
A fief smack dab in enemy territory.
An army composed of twenty thousand criminals.
No support. no infrastructure.
No safety net.
Just him, his wits, and monsters as far as the eye could see.
He couldn't help but laugh quietly.
"What's funny?" Lucia's voice was soft, but at least she was speaking.
"Nothing," Ashen said, squeezing her hand gently. "Just thinking about how much work we have ahead of us."
"We?"
"Obviously. Think I'm doing this alone?"
For the first time since Antonio's execution, a real smile touched Lucia's lips.
"Count of the Wastes," she murmured.
"I prefer Count of New Beginnings."
"I see that one can hardly accuse you of excess imagination in matters of nomenclature."
"Then you come up with something better."
"Mmm."
They sat there a moment longer, two people who'd just survived a political execution and came out the other side with rewards that looked suspiciously like punishments.
But Ashen had been underestimated before… and it never ended well for the ones doing the underestimating.
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