It wasn’t an unfamiliar situation, to stand on the line separating life and death. But this was different from what Freddy was used to. Instead of a big monster or an angry elite, he was faced by three bored-looking judges, who casually discussed what to do with his life as if they were talking about the weather.
There was a joke in there somewhere about why they even wasted time discussing his future before they decided on whether he’d have one in the first place.
Despite the apparent severity of the trial before him, he got a feeling they weren’t going to actually go through with executing him. Not that that made the urge to shout obscenities at them any less intense.
Were they trying to provoke him? Or perhaps show him the authority they wielded? Perhaps this was pretense to “reduce” his sentence to a decade of being drafted to the frontlines?
Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to give them any more fuel.
Rather than let himself be baited, he stayed still and quiet. Outwardly, he was a humble young prospect keeping his head down, waiting gracefully as they demonstrated their power.
Even if inwardly, he was someone who would remember this, and all the bullshit he’d been subjected to, over and over.
One day, he told himself. I’ll never have to go through this again.
They briefly recounted the “evidence,” which included the proof that Freddy, indeed, had three spirit abilities, and that he had been granted the city of Repentawa while, indeed, having the aforementioned “triple block” halting his progress.
Despite the fact that Freddy’s star itched with the burning power of a latent ascension, he kept his mouth shut. What was he going to say, “I can totally ascend right now if I didn’t have all this soul damage. Trust me bro.” It wasn’t like he could prove it. There were no known way to check if someone’s star was ready for ascension.
Obviously, though, his silence was only going to last until it started to seem like they were actually serious about lopping his head off.
Then, well, he wasn’t entirely above crying and begging on his knees.
“We will now move on with the verdict.” Judge Albert said.
Despite Freddy’s best efforts to channel his inner stoic, his knees nearly buckled upon hearing those words. Just stay calm, he told himself, there’s no reason to panic.
“Permission to speak.” Judge Lissia raised a hand.
Freddy took a glance at the hardass who had refused to give him a single bit of benefit of the doubt on the last case as she waited for permission to speak.
I take it back, I’m fucked.
“You may.”
“The evidence suggests there is no wrongdoing.”
It took every muscle in Freddy’s body to hold himself back from blurting out something dumb in shock. She’s defending me!?
“Elaborate.”
“This is clearly a case of ignorance. Mr. Stern has no academic background, or even basic education. His combat excellence more than demonstrates that he was at no threat of getting stuck at second star, so I see no rational reason to subject himself to a triple block if he were aware of how it worked. The only reasonable explanation is that he wasn’t aware of how big of a problem the triple block is, thus, he couldn’t have been trying to mislead the adjudicator.”
Oh, she just thinks I’m a dumbass.
“Judge Ramson?”
The man hummed. “I agree with Judge Lissia.”
Judge Albert nodded. “I am of the same opinion. Those in favor of dropping the charges, please raise your hand.” All of them raised their hands at once. “Motion passed. However, whether intentional or not, it is still a fact that Mr. Stern is under the effect of a triple block, which, to public knowledge, no individual has managed to overcome. Granting a city to a future prospect is done under consideration of their future potential.
“We will now consider Mr. Stern’s continued ownership of Repentawa.”
“Permission to speak,” Judge Ramson requested.
“You may.”
“The presence of three spirit abilities in the soul raises latent aura requirements for ascension hundredfold. Even if nobody has accomplished this, in theory, ascending up a star with a triple block isn’t impossible. There is even a possibility that it has some kind of tangible benefit compared to ascending without it…” The judge paused. “Mr. Stern’s talent makes him biologically immortal, and allows him to undo even the most serious of injuries, bar ones involving the soul.
“He has plenty of time, and perhaps more importantly, he can afford to take risks. I see no better candidate than him to test the theory of whether overcoming a triple block is possible. I am against taking the city away from Mr. Stern.” He leaned back.
“Judge Lissia?”
The woman scowled. “I would like to request a debate with Judge Ramson.”
“Judge Ramson?”
The man’s brow furrowed. “I accept.”
Both of them leaned forward.
“We don’t usually give two-stars fiefs for a reason,” Lissia argued. “If we do this, we’re risking a political nightmare.”
“It’s a fief in a subordinate territory, one that has suffered a devastating disaster, at that.”
“That is irrelevant. Ruins are still territory, and territory is for Lords and Ladies, not hardstuck two-stars.”
“I would like to point out that any time we grant a two-star a fief, there is a chance they will get stuck.”
“That is different. He is already at a point where progress is considered impossible.”
“And how many are seriously trying to overcome a triple block?” Ramson asked as he twined his fingers and leaned forward.
“Judge Ramson, you keep arguing for potential futures, while I’m merely trying to point out the inevitable shitshow a reckless decision would create.”
Both went quiet for a few moments, their gazes locked.
“What if we confiscated it?” Ramson suggested. “Take the rights away until he can prove himself?”
“Ha! And what are you suggesting next, we keep his toilet seat warm, too?” Lissia’s expression darkened. “Why are you so insistent on this?”
“Because I’m tired of the stagnation, Lissia.” He released a slow, stressed breath. “I believe it's time for the empire to go back to its roots. The time where pioneers kept doing the impossible, simply because nobody had told them they couldn’t do it. I mean, look at the situation with Faralethal. We’re not making any progress with our current means. And you’re worried who’s gonna bitch about our decision? Fuck ‘em!” He angrily smashed a balled up fist on the bench. “I’m not arguing for mights and maybes, Lissia, I’m defending the idea of being willing to take a risk.” He leaned back.
Her facial expression didn’t change a bit throughout his tirade. “Are you done with your tantrum?”
He snorted.
Sighing, Lissia took a brief glance at Freddy. “Say we confiscate the city. How many years do we give him? Sure, with Mr. Stern’s talent, there’s a possibility he can chip away at the triple block for a century and crack it. But keeping a whole city in reserve for that long is not going to happen.”
“Doesn’t have to,” Ramson retorted. “I think 20 years is enough.”
“Oh do you?” Lissia turned to face Judge Albert. “Permission to question the defendant.”
“Granted.”
Freddy’s shoulders tensed as Lissia turned to face him. “Mr. Stern, do you hold a personal attachment to Repentawa?”
He thought for a long moment about how to respond. Did he? He didn’t necessarily care about being the owner of the city, but the thought of it being handed to someone else who would then exploit it made his blood boil. “Yes. I do.”
“Would you feel outraged if the city were taken away from you?”
Another moment of silence. The urge not to keep the judge waiting made coming up with a diplomatic answer quite difficult. “I… It depends. If I’m found unworthy of being its owner, I wouldn’t consider it being taken away from me as unfair. However, if at all possible, I would like the right to earn back its ownership one day.”
“That will depend on who ends up owning the city, if anyone does at all. But it will be no more or less difficult than claiming the right to any other city in the empire.” She tapped her fingers on the polished wooden surface of the judge bench. “In the event that we confiscate the city and keep it reserved for you, how many years do you think it would be fair to give you to reach the third star?”
Freddy knew the point of this question. She wanted him to go on record agreeing with a deadline, so that if it expired, he couldn’t cry that it was unfair. This was where he needed to be careful, however. He didn’t believe he’d need twenty years, but if he lowballed it too hard, he risked coming across as cocky. In the same vein, if he overshot it, that risked forcing them to look for a different solution, as this one was pretty much perfect.
In the end, he settled for a safe answer. “I believe Judge Ramson’s suggestion is fair.”
She nodded. “That concludes my questioning.” She turned back to Judge Ramson. “I want us to take the city away from him entirely, and ban him from ever getting the rights to it.”
Freddy bit his tongue not to shout out in indignation.
“What?” Ramson scoffed. “Why?”
“Because he is clearly too emotionally attached to it. He’s already risked his life for it once. If we give him a twenty-year deadline, he would needlessly endanger himself to meet it.” She paused for a moment. “I sympathize with your opinion, Judge Ramson. The empire could use a bit of fresh blood. But we need it here, not in that desert of ice.
“So here’s what I suggest instead; we put the city of Repentawa under the direct supervision from the empire, allowing the city to be managed by a democratically elected council of locals. And, to further encourage Mr. Stern, we can allow him to use his future accomplishments as leverage for expanding the rights of the Northern Belt, with the possibility of eventually fully integrating it into the empire.”
Freddy gaped. He couldn’t hold back a shocked chuckle. Well. Looks like she’s got me by the balls.
Judge Ramson noticed Freddy’s reaction. “I see… That’s a good point. But don’t you think that a political maneuver of that scale will, as you say, ‘create a shitshow’?”
She smiled. “I’m not one against taking risks, Ramson. But if you’re gonna gamble, at least stack the odds in your favor, first. Worst case scenario, we’ve sponsored a small town in the middle of nowhere for nothing. Best case scenario…” She shrugged.
Ramson hummed. “And what about material compensation? In this event, Mr. Stern gets no share of the taxes, or anything of concrete value.”
“Pray tell, what was he going to get paid for sacrificing his life to save those people?”
“I understand your point, but many will interpret this as more of a punishment than a reward.”
She smirked. “Fuck ‘em.”
Ramson chuckled and shook his head. “I believe this concludes our debate, Judge Albert.”
The man nodded. “Judge Lissia, what is your suggestion for how to resolve the issue of Mr. Stern’s deed to the city of Repentawa?”
The woman repeated what she said in the debate, in greater detail and with a whole lot more legalese. Ramson agreed with the suggestion, and it was put to a vote. To Freddy’s minor surprise, Judge Albert didn’t raise his hand in favor of the suggestion, but it still passed two-to-one with Lissia and Ramson in agreement. It was mildly worrying, but not an immediate problem.
He had to say—he wasn’t sure how to feel about this outcome. For what it was worth, this was beyond even his wildest dreams. And yet… They had put a leash around his neck. A damn pretty one, but a leash nonetheless.
The future of a people now weighed on his shoulders.
And what exactly did they count as an “accomplishment”? There were obvious answers to this, ones he wasn’t a fan of, but ultimately, he had already gotten one the things he wanted the most—a chance for the people of Repentawa to live on their own terms. But…
Democratic election, huh…? A rare thing to see nowadays.
He would make sure Travis had plenty of funds to run his campaign.
After all, there were many years of propaganda about Valhalla that needed to be undone.
Freddy also couldn’t help but be worried that Basilisk would do something, but… well, it wasn’t like there was no risk of that happening already. At least this way, with the empire directly overseeing the elections, the man would lose his head if he did anything shady. With the man’s reputation, there had to be many who were salivating at a chance to have him executed.
With this issue out of the way, the proceeded to the next thing.
Freddy was surprised to hear what the next issue was. Even though he really shouldn’t have been.
The thing about the empire was that it was at war with literally everyone and everything—unless explicitly stated otherwise. And, well, nobody had stated that the invasion of monsters wasn’t a part of this war.
“We shall now consider Mr. Stern’s accomplishments in the Empire’s Eternal War.”
The adjudicator actually snickered upon hearing that. Freddy turned to face him, only for the man to give him a huge grin and a cheeky wink.
The man standing on the side pulled up a paper and started reading. “According to multiple sources, including the accounting of a collection company present for the defense of Repentawa, Freddy Stern has… uh...” The man, who had at no point shown even a single bit of emotion, suddenly looked very confused as he took a triple look at the paper in his hand. “Your Honor, there might be an error in the report.”
“I have personally verified the sources and the report. Please continue.”
The man gave a brief nod and looked back at the paper, but not before shooting a couple of glances Freddy’s way. He coughed. “As I was saying… Freddy Stern has 1,205,215 confirmed enemy kills on record.”