But soon after, there were footsteps following, as if erasing the girl’s footfalls. Aslan’s complexion stiffened upon hearing them, and Ereta, noticing Aslan’s expression change, instinctively reached for her waist.
A handaxe was already drawn—it was Ereta’s sidearm. The woman pulled out a mace and extended it to Aslan while giving the door an intense glare.
Footsteps followed Angie’s, but these weren’t shoes that made the sound—hard scales and claws echoed down the hall, accompanied endlessly by the clinking of weapons striking the floor or walls.
Aslan processed the situation while listening to the sounds.
Aslan had killed the Dragon King.
Though the Dragon King had been a priest, it seemed no one had noticed this before Aslan exposed him.
It made sense that the Dragon King’s guards all appeared confused.
That is, from a superficial perspective without knowing the full context, it might seem like Aslan had assassinated a king.
However…
Normally, they wouldn’t waste something like dragon blood, which belonged to the category of expendable national treasures, on someone who assassinated a king.
A quick trial would have sufficed to sentence Aslan without feeding him dragon blood.
But they had given Aslan dragon blood and ensured he regained consciousness in a hospital room.
This wasn’t the treatment reserved for a regicide.
Whether they fully understood the situation or not, it was clear they expected something from Aslan.
Moreover, since Angie’s footsteps were approaching Aslan’s room, it was likely that the situation wasn’t dire.
If they intended to execute Aslan, Angie would have interfered with all her might.
In such a case, instead of footsteps, loud booms and roars should be echoing through the halls.
“But it seems I don’t have time to leisurely choose my unique magic.”
Aslan closed the system window and gently pushed away the mace Ereta offered.
“Aslan…?”
“Put it away.”
The details could be clarified through the actions and words of those now approaching. Believing confrontation wouldn’t benefit him at this moment, Aslan gently dissuaded Ereta.
Ereta hesitated briefly, her eyes flickering, then reluctantly sheathed her weapon while letting out a small groan.
With Ereta having put away her weapon and glaring at the door, the footsteps ceased as the door opened.
“Aslan!”
The first figure visible when the door opened was Angie. A wild girl with crimson hair and burning golden eyes. Behind her stood several armored dragonfolk.
In Belus Alphen, armored dragonfolk symbolized only one thing:
The direct force of the Senate and the fangs of Belus Alphen—the Pang.
Aslan began to see the situation clearly.
The Senate could be considered the sole authority in Belus Alphen.
Thus, their intentions after reviving Aslan with dragon blood were predictable.
Just as Angie sighed in relief, rubbing her eyes and about to speak,
“Fortunately…these lizards said they’d definitely save you…”
“Sinful Aslan.”
One of the armored dragonfolk spoke.
“For the crime of regicide against the Dragon King, destruction inflicted upon Belus Alphen, plus charges of blasphemy and massacring civilians, we sentence you to death. Do you admit your guilt?”
Angie froze mid-rub, her expression hardening, while Ereta scowled fiercely and reached for her weapon.
“That’s not what was agreed upon!”
Angie’s shout of anger rose as she lifted her leg, ready to kick down the building and escape with Aslan.
Before her foot touched the ground, Aslan spoke.
“I deny the charges. I request a trial by combat.”
“Huh?”
At his words, Angie paused mid-kick, lost her balance, and promptly fell over.
“Ow!”
With a crash, Angie hit the ground but quickly sprang up again, startled by the dragonfolk’s claws brushing her hair.
When Angie distanced herself from the dragonfolk, the warrior simply stared at her before speaking.
“We accept. Who will be your champion?”
“I will prove my innocence myself.”
“Very well. Follow us.”
As Angie and Ereta stiffened in silence to assess the situation, Aslan rose from the bed and placed his feet on the floor.
“Ugh.”
A strange sensation, akin to an electric current, surged from his toes through his spine to his brain. However, the pain didn’t last long. His strong resolve swiftly alleviated Aslan’s discomfort, allowing him to walk.
As Angie opened her mouth in worry and Ereta moved to support him, Aslan shook his head and held out his hand to stop them.
A bead of cold sweat trickled down from his forehead to his chin, yet his eyes burned as if unscathed.
To perfectly deceive the enemy, one must first deceive their allies.
Aslan understood what the Senate wanted from him.
“Let’s go.”
Upon Aslan’s words, the dragonfolk warriors finally stepped back.
*
“This is ridiculous! Everyone saw the scene, and yet…!”
“That’s not our decision to make.”
Tiamat and Harrod, the two red-scaled brothers, exchanged words that failed to fill even a corner of the vast common area before dissipating.
While their scattered conversation might justify their frustration, Harrod showed no sign of caring.
His teeth clenched, Harrod’s gaze was directed toward countless compatriots.
The arena, built in a circular form, was filled with heat haze due to the sunlight streaming in from above.
The spectators filling the arena were all dragonfolk.
Dragonfolk of every scale color hurled insults and curses at Aslan, who stood in the center of the arena.
“Are you not worried about Brother?”
“Nah, there’s no need. Why should I worry about that guy?”
As waves of fury close to madness spread among the crowd, Harrod glanced uneasily at his older brother.
He found it excessive that his brother showed no concern despite a comrade facing a trial by combat.
Just as Harrod was about to retort, Tiamat smirked with his arms crossed.
“That guy’s not stupid. If he requested a trial by combat, it means he has some way to survive this mess. Though I haven’t known him long… he doesn’t act recklessly.”
Harrod still looked unconvinced, but Tiamat was right.
Aslan had a reason for entering the trial by combat.
If one only knew the emotions harbored by the populace towards Aslan, predicting the situation without variables would be straightforward.
Hence, Aslan proceeded.
After stepping into the arena and witnessing the scene firsthand, Aslan understood.
The populace cursed and hated Aslan.
The Dragon King had been a beloved monarch and demigod to the people.
It seemed most of the dragonfolk present desired nothing more than to kill Aslan immediately.
Only after observing this spectacle did Aslan finally grasp what the Senate was orchestrating.
The elders occupying the Senate were the warriors and wizards with the highest achievements in Belus Alphen.
Given their seasoned experience, they undoubtedly had suspicions about what had happened to Aslan.
Aslan wondered if the Senate suspected that he had been chosen by the ancient deity.
There was no way explaining this to the populace would work.
At worst, it might spark a civil war between the Senate trying to protect Aslan and the enraged populace.
Another civil conflict was certainly undesirable for Aslan.
Therefore, Aslan entered the trial by combat armed with a blunt iron sword that had probably seen much use.
What the Senate wanted from Aslan was one thing:
For Aslan to completely deceive the populace with a charade.
The Senate expected Aslan to perceive their plan and meet their expectations.
Aslan, realizing everything they anticipated, adopted a dull expression.
Their method was optimal.
It was a way to convince the populace without losing their political influence and to aid the one chosen by the ancient deity.
Simultaneously, depending on how Aslan handled it, he could also gain the people’s support.
They must have even anticipated that Aslan would deduce this from his history and battle records.
Though it felt unpleasant,
Though it went against his inclinations,
Tricking others wasn’t exactly joyful.
But if it was the best option, there was no other choice. Although it wasn’t the path Aslan had personally chosen, reflecting on it, he realized he’d likely have made the same decision even if given alternatives.
Firstly, no one would die, which was undeniably a good outcome. Aslan idly wiped the blade of the dull iron sword and raised his gaze.
On the opposite side stood a massive dragonfolk, nearly as large as Tiamat, wielding a huge axe and staring at Aslan.
The armored dragonfolk was unmistakably part of the Senate’s direct force, the Pang. They would likely play along to some extent with Aslan’s “deception.”
With the actors prepared, all that remained was the direction. Aslan summoned the system window.
[Generate unique magic based on acquired magical systems and the highest-level magic skills.]
[Select unique magic]
[Domination]
[Protection]
[Specialization]
[Tutoring]
[Harmonization]
There was no need to deliberate.
The 12 years since Aslan had fallen into Geladridion had long resolved any doubts about his build.
Without hesitation, Aslan’s finger pressed firmly into the air, dispersing the text.
[Domination]
