The atmosphere inside the royal court was thick with tension. Whispers laced with anger and discontent echoed across the hall, all directed at Darken—an outsider accused of violating their sacred land and assaulting their beloved princess. Everything was stacked against him. Yet, somehow, despite the accusations, he had managed to capture the attention of the Elven King himself. And now... perhaps there was a chance.
To be honest, gaining the king's attention this easily—and even being allowed to speak? I think I just used up every ounce of luck I had left.
In any case, hesitation isn't an option. I need to seize any opportunity that comes my way. I can't fall at the first hurdle... the path ahead is still long.
Darken's gaze locked with that of the Elven King—a man of calm features and unreadable expression—who seemed entirely unfazed by the presence of Prince Azreth, standing beside him with the very dagger that had nearly pierced Darken's neck just moments ago. Azreth clearly wasn't pleased about being stopped by his father, but he made no move to disobey. He simply stepped back from Darken, his eyes burning with fury and a thirst for blood... a sentiment shared by most of those present.
As for what Darken had said earlier, it had only further ignited the room. The tension escalated, and some of the court began whispering in disbelief, while others couldn't contain themselves and erupted in furious shouts:
– " You can't seriously believe him, Your Majesty! Look at him! He's a filthy human, lying just to save his miserable life! "
– "Yes, my king, you mustn't give him a chance! He could use it to do something dangerous—perhaps even to harm Your Majesty!"
– "He's clearly guilty! Just a liar trying to escape the consequences of his actions!"
Darken heard every word from the Elves lining both sides of the hall. None of it surprised him. In a place like this, no one would believe he wasn't the culprit. They had already made up their minds. From his perspective, there was only one way forward—he had to prove his innocence. But first... he needed a chance. Just one.
The king raised his hand gently. The rising voices began to subside gradually until silence once again blanketed the hall—save for the soft weeping of Queen Erlsya and the quiet sobs of the youngest princess, Eve.
"Your name is Darken, is it not?" the king spoke in a calm voice, studying the young man before him. "And you claim you are not the perpetrator?"
"Yes. I'm not the one you're looking for," Darken replied firmly.
The king examined him for a moment in silence before speaking again: "And you expect me to grant you a chance to prove your innocence, is that it?"
Is he reading my thoughts? Or was I just that obvious?... Either way, I have to stand firm.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I ask you to give me a chance to prove my innocence," Darken said, voice unwavering.
Meanwhile, Prince Azreth was silently listening, his rage smoldering inside him like a slow-burning fire. He didn't believe a single word Darken said, and the moment he heard him ask for a chance... his fury erupted.
"You Think You're In Any Position To Ask For Something?! You Damn Human! KNOW YOUR PLACE!" Azreth shouted, standing to Darken's left, his voice sharp as a blade cutting through the tension.
"Calm done, Azreth," the king interjected with the same composed tone, unshaken by his son's outburst. "This is not who we are, boy. No matter the circumstances, even in the face of an enemy, we do not cast aside our values, our honor, or our dignity. Not even in our anger."
Then, his eyes met Azreth's directly. "Never forget that, Azreth."
The king's words struck Azreth like an arrow to the heart. His shoulders slackened, and he remembered himself. Yes, his mother had acted with similar rage—but she was a mother. A mother could be forgiven for her emotions, especially when they concerned her children.
"I apologize, Your Majesty... I let my anger get the better of me," Azreth muttered, stepping back to stand silently behind his father.
At that moment, the king turned back to Darken, who still stood in place, waiting to speak. The king said nothing at first—only watched him with sharp, discerning eyes, examining his posture and physique, which was difficult to overlook.
"Eve..." the king finally said, his gaze never leaving Darken, "can you still smell the scent from your sister body? Could you identify the one who hurt her through that scent?"
Eve, the youngest princess, had been seated beside Queen Erlsya near the unconscious body of Eryl. At her father's words, she hesitated only a moment before leaning over Eryl's form, sniffing gently. Her face quickly twisted in disgust.
"Aoh!… It's such a disgusting smell!," she said, covering her nose and tightly shutting her eyes.
The king nodded, then said, his voice calm but tinged with firmness: "Now, go to the young man, Darken. If you sense the same scent from him… then judgment will be delivered immediately."
Eve hesitated, then slowly made her way toward Darken. He stood still, unmoving, fully aware this moment could determine his fate. But deep inside, unease began to rise.
That girl… she's Eryl's sister. Small, young... but clearly gifted with a powerful sensory ability. She might really be able to identify the attacker through scent alone. But...
I buried Karl with my own hands. Wouldn't his stench have stuck to me? DAMN IT… this could ruin everything.
For a second, doubt took hold of Darken. This might be his only chance at survival—and yet, he could lose it because of something beyond his control. If he were found guilty, he would need a backup plan… perhaps escape.
He could escape easily. He was growing more aware of the physical power in his body each passing day. But he didn't want to run. Eryl, that Elf girl who suffered, reminded him too much of his own torment—of what he endured at the hands of Jabelin. He needed to know she would live. He didn't want her death on his conscience.
As Eve reached him, she leaned in and began to sniff. Seconds passed... then her expression changed.
She looked at him, eyes wide, curious—almost enchanted.
"This scent… it's so different," she said softly, her voice delicate. Everyone—except the king and queen—turned to her in disbelief. And She continued, eyes distant as if mesmerized: "It's not the same at all. It's… pure. Gentle. Calm… Peaceful."
Even Darken was stunned by her words. For a moment, he wondered if she was just insane.
Eve then lifted her head and looked into his eyes, searching for something unspoken. Her gaze—curious, almost admiring—made Darken uncomfortable.
Just as she turned to speak to the king, he raised his hand lightly, signaling her to remain silent.
Some in the hall were displeased by this. A few muttered in protest, until one voice suddenly rose in defiance: "This is nonsense!"
Everyone turned toward the source of the cry, and the man continued angrily: " Are you truly going to base your decision on the word of a child, Your Majesty? Yes, the princess can sense spiritual energy—but how do we know he isn't hiding his true energy? "
Darken turned toward the speaker in confusion—not about spiritual energy itself (his mind, ever-renewing, held some knowledge of the concept, albeit limited)—but about the revelation that Eve could smell spiritual energy.
Smelling spiritual energy? That changes everything… If Karl and I don't share the same signature, then I still have a real shot. I need to stay the course.
Darken turned his eyes to the king, who remained silent, contemplative… until he finally spoke:
"I understand your emotions, all of you," the king declared in a steady, commanding tone. "What was done to Princess Eryl is vile—unforgivable. But you know who we are."
His voice rose, firm and resolute: "We are a people guided by wisdom and restraint. We do not rush to judgment, nor are we ruled by emotion. I have already made my decision... but I will not announce it now."
Then he extended a hand toward Darken: "For the time being, this young man will not leave our lands, nor will he move freely within them. He shall remain under watch… until the time comes when I deliver my final judgment."
Lowering his hand, he continued: "I will not pass an unjust sentence. That is not my way, nor the way of my family or my people."
The final sentence was directed straight at Darken—he knew it. The king's tone had shifted more than once: first when addressing his people, then while speaking of judgment, and finally... in those last, quiet words meant only for him.
Darken remained standing in silence, while Princess Eve quietly stepped away from him, heading toward the queen. Queen Erlsya was still kneeling beside her unconscious daughter Eryl, holding her with a mix of silent grief and restrained tears.
The situation now... is acceptable.
But honestly, I don't feel any real emotional connection. Everything feels strangely familiar, as if I've been through this before… even though it's clearly the first time I've faced anything like it.
In any case, judgment has been postponed, and I'll be confined within this land for a while… until the king decides to announce his final verdict.
Moments later, the king raised his hand again. At first, Darken didn't understand the gesture, but it quickly became clear when the attendees began leaving the court in silence. Within a minute, the royal hall was empty—save for the king, the queen, Princess Eve, Prince Azreth, Eryl's unconscious body, the guard Torel, and one other member of the group that had escorted Darken here.
Darken glanced around in surprise.
Why haven't I been told to leave? Why am I still standing here alone with the royal family? This… feels strange.
He remained silent, watching patiently, waiting to see what would happen. "I know very well that you're not the one who did this, boy," the king said calmly, his eyes closed.
Darken's eyes widened in disbelief. "What… do you mean by that?"
The king opened his eyes, but it wasn't him who responded—it was The Queen , still cradling her daughter as she spoke in a soft yet clear voice: "You're not the one we're looking for. I realized that the moment I saw my daughter's poor, broken body…"
Darken turned to her silently, his heart filled with confusion, while Azreth's eyes went wide in shock, unable to process what he was hearing.
They knew? They knew the truth all along? I've been fighting to prove my innocence, while they… already knew? Then why? Why go through all of this?
The King stepped toward him with steady, deliberate steps, then stopped directly in front of him. Extending his hand, he spoke: "I am the nineteenth king of the Elven Kingdom. This is our land… I am called Toras, King of the Eastern Elves. It's an honor to meet you."
Darken was stunned—not just by the king's sudden shift in demeanor, but also by the weight the name Toras seemed to carry. There was something powerful about it. For a brief moment, he felt the tide shifting—things were starting to turn in his favor. He lifted his hand and shook the king's with confidence and strength.
Toras gave a broad smile, his eyes momentarily fixated on Darken's firm grip, before raising his gaze to meet the young man's directly.
"Young man, what happened to my daughter is an unforgivable crime, and I will not show mercy to the one responsible. But both I and my wife, Queen Erlisya, are certain—you are not the culprit. Still… we hope you might have some information, something—anything—that can help us find the one who is."
Darken responded with quiet resolve, "I'll share everything I know. And also…" He paused, then spoke with burning conviction in his eyes: "If there's a way I can help Princess Eryl… I ask that you tell me. No—I insist."
King Toras studied him closely, reading the raw sincerity and unyielding determination in his eyes. And something within him—something deep and instinctual—told him this young man wasn't just innocent… he was genuine.
The king smiled again. This time, it wasn't a formal or political smile—but a deeply human one. Maybe… just maybe… this boy could be trusted.