De Mon walked out of Master Antonio's mage tower with a gloomy face, and the shadow cast by the white tower was like an invisible greatsword, hanging over him.

He didn't hide his terrible mood, and one of the councillors, the president of the Silk Guild who had bribed him, wanted to say a few more sweet words to the current Archon of the White Tower, and to try to invite him to his house. The consul was twenty-four years old, and his father had not yet had time to make him a marriage contract, and while he was a mage, although it was not so accidental that you would often see him in the temple of Fro, or at some of the more famous prostitutes, he never appeared in the arms of a woman, that is to say, he had never had a soft spot for her— The president of the Silk Guild happened to have three daughters, and his wife was the daughter of a farmer, and how could she have been his wife if it were not for the beauty that mud and malnutrition could not hide?

They were nineteen, fifteen and eleven years old, ranging from blooming flowers to tender buds.

"You can pick whoever you like!" cried out to the president, if one of them could become the wife of the consul, yes, it would be the most perfect, if not, then he would be able to be a regular mistress, the kind that had the right to have children, and how much money would he save.

But I'm afraid it won't work today, he regretfully thought that distinguishing appearance and color is the basic skill of merchants, and he vaguely guessed why their new consul was in such a bad mood, but he was not ready to lie for him, after all, Master Antonio had invited others- His companion was a rare man of conscience, and the matter was too much and too much to be involved, a small merchant who would be dragged in and strangled if he was not careful, so he just held his breath, carefully bowed to the lord and the consul, said goodbye respectfully, and walked away quietly against the wall.

Demon's squire brought his horse for him, a black horse that had belonged to his brother, very tall, and could step about fifteen feet in one step, it was a little uneasy when it was pulled closer to Demon, and kept snorting and grinding its hooves, and the caster did not think about it, snatched the whip from the squire's hand, and slapped it viciously on the back, and the horse let out a long neigh, sharp and frightened, and it began to rage, standing upright, and desperately kicking the squire who was pulling the reins, Demont walked away, and looked coldly at the fool who had blocked the horse with a few whips and had been trying to comfort it。

As the horse had calmed down, Demon raised his hand and made a gesture, and a short spear made of spells was thrown straight at the black horse's head, piercing it, and it fell to one side, crushing the squire under its heavy body, its wound bleeding black, and in an instant it began to rot and stink.

Only the first, Demont thought, but he turned away with a little remorse—the lord's carriage had not left as early as he had thought, it was bathed in brilliant sunlight, as if waiting for something, and Anrui's personal maid was walking towards it.

"I ought to tell her that the horse is mad," thought Demont, not without whims, "like our people." ”

To his surprise, however, Ann Rui's maid was not concerned with the horse, but was sent by Ann Rui to ask if she needed to go back to the inner city with her, and since there was something wrong with his horse, Demont immediately smiled and happily accepted the invitation.

As he boarded the carriage, Anrui was playing with the charm on her chest in a nonchalant manner, the amber amulet that Demon had given her, which Demont recognized at a glance.

"Please be seated, cousin," An Rui tilted her head slightly, and gestured to the position opposite her with her eyes, "I was just about to talk to you." ”

"That's what I mean. Demon said, and closed the door.

On the day of the official trial, it suddenly rained.

"I hate the rain. Cremar said to Kerryburn. "It always brings bad things. ”

Kerry knew why Cremar said this, and he and Cremar encountered a storm and a crazy bloodthirsty rabbit in the Partridge Hills, and the second time it rained, Fenway summoned a fire of negative energy that burned almost the entire Grey Ridge, and Ilda was beheaded by the giant.

"But you always have a way to fix them. ”

"With fire," said Cremar, "I'm afraid you'll think I'm an arsonist." ”

Kerribben smiled slightly: "Whatever the power has a good and a bad side, we have to see if it is controlled and guided in the right direction. He put down the book in his hand, got up and opened the window: "For example, if Adel and the other innocent victims are still sentenced to death today, I will allow you to set fire again to save them from the executioner's sword." ”

"I'm going to put on a fire that everyone will remember. Cremar said half-truthfully, and walked to the window and waited quietly with Kerryburn.

The people of the streets, men, women and children, dressed in black mourning clothes, rushed to the market square of the White Tower, at the invitation of the bells, to participate in and observe this unprecedented trial, forming a wide and dark river, through which the prisoners were held in carts, but no one spat at them, pulled them by the hair, stabbed them with sharp objects, or threw rancid garbage and stones.

Their attitude is still cautious and distant, but at least it is no longer so tight, blind and full of hatred. A very young girl, thinking herself unobtrusive, approached the prison cart and stuffed a piece of bread that had been pinched for a long time to her father, and then an old mother quietly handed her son her soaked turban so that he could drink some water, and a wife also pulled the turban and approached the car slowly, and gave her husband a piece of candy with a hard kiss, and the people around them were just as if they didn't see anything.

The priests of Rosada had no further scars, and although they were still standing in their cramped cages weary and painful, they were all sane, even the oldest and weakest of them.

"It's time for us to go, too. Kerriben said, picking up the black cloak that Mage Antonio had prepared for them, and as they walked down the stairs and stood with the people, the black cloak softened a lot of sharp gaze.

The market square, which could accommodate hundreds of stalls, was already full of people, and in the center a platform about three feet high had been erected, on which was a long table covered with red velvet and more than a dozen chairs, in the middle two high-backed chairs of slightly different heights still belonged to the lord and the consul, one belonged to the priest of Rosada who had just arrived, and the other twelve belonged to the councillors of the White Tower, and below the platform, there were about fifty or so ordinary stools, spread out from side to side like the wings of a bird, and offered to the guests. Witnesses and wealthy merchants, or commoners of innocence and integrity, as they were unanimously believed, were both recorders and witnesses.

They first tried those who did not suffer from madness, but who had taken advantage of the opportunity to rob and steal in the midst of that terrible catastrophe, and although some of them argued that they had drunk the water that caused madness, the lie was soon exposed with the cooperation of the caster and the priest of the hall in Rosada. The souls of the other world were surprised to find that the method of judgment in the White Tower could be said to be somewhat democratic, because whether they were guilty or not was determined by the black and red wooden beads in a box, and after the herald had read their charges, every free, adult man and woman in the White Tower walked up one after another, and threw into the box with only one opening, only pea-sized wooden beads, and waited for everyone to cast him/ Her beads, the box is opened in public, and the executioner will count it loudly, if there are more red beads than black beads, then the person is innocent, and vice versa.

Of course, these hateful thieves and robbers would not be acquitted, and the beads were almost all black, but the executioner counted them anyway, and then the lords stood up and punished them according to their crimes, and if they killed someone, they were hanged, and if they did not kill but only robbed of property, they cut off their hands.

It was evident that they had picked up as fast as they could, but when it was the turn of the priest of Rosada and the insane men, the magic pendant that hung from Cremar's chest still walked a full three squares.

The priest of Rosada stood up before he began to throw the beads, he took out a piece of parchment and read out the names on it, whether dead or alive, they were expelled by their gods and sects, they were not allowed to continue to wear the garments of the priest of Rosada, to recite his name, to worship his icons, to wear his holy flowers, and not to enter any of the sanctuaries of Rosada, even the outer sanctuaries, and not to receive forgiveness or favors in his name. After this was done, it was the turn of the mortals to continue their judgment.

The red and black beads poured out of the open box this time seemed to be about the same to the naked eye, and the executioner carefully counted them, and in the end there were only two more red beads than black ones.

As soon as the final results came out, the sinners shouted with joy and struggled to lift their wooden shackles as if to break free of them at once and regain their freedom.

Demont rubbed his palms gently, I don't know if it was rain or nervousness, his hands were wet - but the rain didn't hit him, it started to rain when the platform was built, and the skilled craftsmen immediately added a light tarpaulin canopy - so nervous? Of course he was nervous, and he even secretly cursed in his heart the mentor who had already left this place, and the little devil who deliberately gave him the wrong news, if he had the chance, he would pinch the little devil's wings and stuff it into the guru's mouth and kick them all together into the endless abyss...... Luckily, the summoned Priest Flo had never seen his real face in the conspiracy and learned of his identity, all she knew was that it was a male spellcaster, and what had been dug out of her mouth had no meaning or purpose other than to give the disgusting Priest Rosada a chance to get rid of the charges.

The sinner asked the executioner to open the chains on them, but he refused: "You have only been exonerated of the charge of premeditated murder, and the charge of blasphemy." ”

He took out a second box, this time with more black beads than red ones.

"Ten years of exile. The lord Anrui spoke her sentence, which provoked a great deal of pleading and weeping, and some orphans and widows rushed to the bottom of the platform and stretched out their arms to beg for mercy, because they had lost their father or husband and could not afford to lose another relative and support.

"I will consult with the leaders of the guild to ensure that you are well fed and clothed. "But ten years is necessary, and only a long time can wipe away the evil that still remains in their bodies." ”

The words immediately resonated with others, who were reminded of the bloody and chaotic night, who thought that the lord's sentence was reasonable, or that exile for life would be more appropriate, lest they might want to cut off someone's head at any point.

"In addition, in order to ensure the safety of the people outside the White Pagoda," Anrui said, "their faces will be branded with the imprint representing their crimes, which will remain with them for the rest of their lives, and will not be healed or covered." ”

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