The meeting ended shortly afterward.
Hans and his party had barely stepped outside the Adventurers’ Guild when a commotion farther along the street caught their attention.
A large crowd had gathered near the center of Srivi, their voices overlapping in a restless mixture of anger, confusion, and curiosity.
“What happened?” Jason asked.
Hans was already watching the commotion.
Without answering, he started toward it, and the others followed close behind.
The crowd grew denser with every step, forcing them to move between groups of people whispering among themselves and craning their necks for a better view.
When Hans finally found a clear opening between them, he saw several wooden platforms erected in the middle of the street, surrounded by armed guards.
Several prisoners were kneeling upon them.
Gardo was among them.
Iron chains bound his wrists and neck, while the officials and subordinates who had participated in his crimes knelt beside him with their heads lowered.
Some bore bruises from their capture, while others simply stared at the wooden boards beneath their knees, unwilling to meet the eyes of the people they had ruled over for years.
Hans’s eyes narrowed.
Then he noticed the person standing before them.
Javier.
The Crown Prince stood at the center of the street, his white-golden hair stirring gently in the wind.
His familiar black blindfold covered his eyes, while Alaric stood several steps away with a document in his hands and guards positioned around the platforms.
Javier waited without speaking until the murmurs surrounding him gradually faded, then stepped forward once silence had settled over the crowd.
“I am Javier Sylvaris, First Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Sylvaris and the authority currently entrusted with Srivi.” His voice carried clearly through the street, reaching even those gathered farther behind.
“Today, Gardo, the former Chief Minister of Srivi, and those who participated in his crimes will receive judgment for what they have done to this city and its people.”
Confused whispers immediately returned.
Some people exchanged uncertain glances, while others stared at Gardo as though they could hardly believe the man who had once controlled their city was now kneeling in chains before them.
“They’re really executing Gardo?”
“What did he do?”
“Why now?”
Javier allowed the questions to spread for several moments before turning his face slightly toward Alaric.
“Alaric.”
Alaric stepped forward and unfolded the document in his hands.
“Gardo and his subordinates have been found guilty of embezzlement, human trafficking, murder, kidnapping, illegal drug production, involvement with the Underworld, and rebellion against the Crown Prince.” His voice remained firm as the whispers gradually died around him.
“These crimes were uncovered at the cost of many lives. Our warriors entered the underground tunnels beneath Srivi to capture Gardo and Framon Donius, and some of them never returned.”
His fingers tightened slightly around the document before he began reading the names of those who had fallen.
“The first is Alice, the Archer of Srivi.”
Hans froze.
For a moment, the surrounding crowd seemed to disappear from his awareness.
His gaze lowered toward the ground as his fingers slowly curled into a fist, the memory of Alice’s final moments returning before he could stop it.
Alice…
Alaric continued.
“Paul Droman. Faron Vontinus…”
One name followed another, each carried across the silent street for the families, friends, and strangers gathered there to hear.
With every fallen warrior Alaric named, the mood surrounding the execution changed.
Curiosity disappeared first, followed by uncertainty, until the people were no longer looking at Gardo and his men as disgraced officials whose crimes they did not understand.
They were looking at the people responsible for the deaths of their own.
A stone suddenly flew from somewhere within the crowd.
THUD!
It struck one of Gardo’s men in the shoulder, forcing him sideways against his chains.
Another stone followed almost immediately, then another, until several people began reaching for whatever they could find.
“Bastards!”
“You killed them!”
“Die!”
The guards surrounding the platforms tensed as stones struck the wood and prisoners from several directions, but Javier made no attempt to stop the crowd.
Gardo remained hunched beneath the assault, his shoulders trembling as the hatred around him grew louder.
For years, these people had lowered their heads whenever he passed.
Now their voices surrounded him from every direction.
Suddenly, Gardo raised his head.
“DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THIS NOBLE?!”
His shout cut through the street.
The stones stopped.
Gardo’s eyes were wild as he turned toward Javier.
“Do you really think he will save you?!” A bitter laugh escaped his throat, his chains rattling as his body shook.
“HAHAHAHA! Srivi is a city destined to fall! All of you are nothing but outcasts!”
Several people in the crowd stiffened.
Gardo saw it and immediately pressed harder.
“Do you know what you look like to people like him? Garbage!” He pointed toward Javier with one trembling hand.
“They don’t care about you! Nobles never have! Once that blind prince gets whatever he wants from Srivi, he’ll abandon all of you just like every noble before him!”
His laughter grew louder, but desperation had already begun creeping into it.
“HAHAHAHAHA!”
Javier did not respond.
Before he needed to, a small voice rose from within the crowd.
“No!”
Heads turned.
Aslan stood among the people.
His small fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and although his body trembled beneath the sudden attention of so many people, he refused to retreat behind the adults surrounding him.
Javier immediately recognized the boy’s voice.
His expression shifted slightly as the memory of a starving child standing before his carriage with a knife returned to him.
Aslan swallowed before forcing himself to continue.
“No matter what happens to Srivi, Prince Javier will protect us!”
Hans watched the boy from across the crowd.
A moment later, Elena stepped forward and stopped beside Aslan.
“He’s right.”
Her voice was steadier, though her hands remained slightly tense at her sides.
“Prince Javier will never abandon Srivi.” Elena turned briefly toward Javier before facing the crowd again.
“When the Devil attacked beneath this city, he could have escaped. He could have left everyone inside that tunnel behind and protected himself.”
She paused.
“But he didn’t.”
Elena remembered the fear she had seen in Javier that day, and perhaps that was precisely why her next words carried so much certainty.
He had been afraid.
He had nearly broken beneath that fear.
Yet he had stayed.
“I believe in Prince Javier.”
For several seconds, nobody answered.
Then a voice rose somewhere behind her.
“She’s right!”
Another followed.
“He saved us!”
“He fought that Devil!”
“He protected Srivi!”
The voices multiplied until the doubt Gardo had tried to spread was swallowed by the anger of the very people he had once controlled.
“Kill Gardo!”
“Execute him!”
“Don’t let him live!”
Gardo’s face gradually lost its color.
His chains rattled as his body began trembling, and for the first time, there was nothing left of the confidence he had carried as Chief Minister.
The people who had once feared speaking his name were now demanding his death.
“N-No…”
His head turned desperately toward Javier.
“Your Highness…”
Gardo lowered himself as far as the chains allowed.
“Please… forgive me.”
Javier remained silent.
The crowd waited.
When he finally spoke, his voice contained neither anger nor hesitation.
“It’s too late, Gardo.”
Javier raised his right hand, and mana began gathering around his palm.
The change was subtle at first, little more than pressure spreading through the air, but crimson flames soon appeared between his fingers.
Their heat reached the nearest members of the crowd within seconds, forcing them to step backward as the mana surrounding Javier continued to grow.
“You should be grateful.”
His hand slowly rose.
“I will give you a punishment worthy of your crimes.”
The ground beneath the platforms cracked.
BOOM!
A pillar of fire erupted from below.
Gardo and his remaining subordinates vanished inside the flames as their screams tore through the street.
The fire climbed around their bodies in violent coils, consuming the wooden platforms beneath them while waves of scorching heat forced the crowd farther back.
“ARGHHHHHH!”
“IT HURTS!”
Javier remained where he was.
“Mana Divine…”
Something inside the flames changed.
Their ordinary orange glow deepened into red before becoming crimson.
The transformation continued until streaks of darkness appeared within the fire, spreading through it like ink through water.
Within seconds, the crimson had vanished completely.
Only black remained.
The temperature around the execution site rose sharply.
Black flames consumed the platforms without producing ordinary smoke, twisting upward in unnatural shapes as though the fire itself were responding to the sins of those trapped within it.
Javier lowered his hand slightly.
” The Flame of Justice.”
BOOOOOOM!
The black fire erupted into the sky.
A colossal column of darkness rose above Srivi, twisting upon itself until, for a fleeting moment, its shape resembled an enormous dragon looming over the city.
The wave of heat forced people to shield their faces, and within moments, the platforms and everyone upon them disappeared completely beneath the flames.
Then silence returned.
Hans stared at the black fire. Get faster updates on g.com.
Beside him, Aveline had gone completely still.
“What… is that?”
Hans gave no response.
Something about those flames disturbed him.
He had seen something similar before, long before Javier had ever entered Srivi.
The memory surfaced slowly: a mysterious woman standing before flames bearing an unsettling resemblance to the ones now burning above the execution ground.
Hans’s expression hardened.
It was not the destructive power that bothered him.
It was the resemblance.
Why does Javier have flames like hers…?
Unease settled somewhere deep within him.
He had already chosen to accompany Javier into Verkes Forest, yet once again he was reminded of how little he truly knew about the Crown Prince.
Around him, the people had begun reaching a far more frightening conclusion.
“Devil magic…”
“Is that Devil magic?!”
“No.”
Elena’s voice cut through the panic before it could spread.
She stood facing the towering black flames without backing away.
“That isn’t Devil magic.”
Several people turned toward her.
“That is the Justice Flame,” Elena explained.
“It was created by the strongest Saint Mage in history. The flame judges the sins of the person it burns, and its color changes according to the severity of those crimes.”
Her gaze remained fixed on the black fire.
“Black is its final color.”
Elena swallowed quietly.
“A color reserved for sins that cannot be forgiven.”
The murmurs slowly faded.
As the flames began to diminish, the people of Srivi turned their attention toward Javier.
The fear that had appeared only moments earlier gradually disappeared from their faces, replaced by something the city had not given easily to anyone for a very long time.
Trust.
One man raised his fist.
“ALL HAIL PRINCE JAVIER!”
Another voice immediately joined him.
“ALL HAIL PRINCE JAVIER!”
A third followed, then several more, until the cry spread through the crowd like a wave.
“ALL HAIL PRINCE JAVIER!”
“ALL HAIL PRINCE JAVIER!”
Hundreds of voices merged together, echoing between the buildings and carrying through the streets of Srivi.
Javier stood silently before them as the final remnants of the black flames disappeared into the sky.
He could hear the voices coming from every direction, from people who had spent years living beneath corruption, hunger, violence, and fear.
Now they were placing something far more difficult to earn in his hands.
Their trust.
Javier’s fingers moved slightly at his side.
When he had first entered Srivi, a starving child had greeted him with a knife.
The streets had smelled of sickness and neglect, its people had lowered their heads beneath officials who treated their suffering as nothing more than numbers written across falsified records, and Javier himself had arrived believing this city was merely a punishment handed to him by his father.
Somewhere along the way, that had changed.
Srivi was no longer merely the place he had been sent to govern.
These were his people.
And for the first time in years, those people were beginning to believe that their city might have a future.
Hans remained among the crowd, watching Javier in silence.
Only a short while earlier, he had stood inside Brian’s office wondering whether agreeing to follow this man into Verkes Forest had been a mistake.
Alice was dead.
Javier was still a noble, still a prince, and Hans had spent too much of his life learning what people with power were capable of doing to those beneath them.
He had told himself that he would watch Javier and decide for himself what kind of man the Crown Prince truly was.
Now he watched Aslan cheering among the crowd.
He saw Elena standing beside the boy, no longer hiding beneath the fear that had controlled her for so long.
Around them were hundreds of ordinary people who had suffered beneath Srivi’s corruption, yet their voices were now calling Javier’s name.
Hans remembered the underground tunnel.
Javier had been afraid.
Hans knew that now.
Yet Javier had stayed.
He remembered Framon invoking the name of Count Luiss Vyloria and expecting a Crown Prince to retreat before political power.
Javier had refused.
He remembered Alaric lying beneath the rubble, Alice disappearing before him, and Javier standing against the Devil even after everything around them had fallen apart.
Perhaps none of that was enough for Hans to trust him completely.
Not yet.
But as he watched Javier standing before the people of Srivi, the doubt he had carried out of Brian’s office no longer felt quite as heavy.
The corner of Hans’s lips lifted into the faintest smile.
Not bad, Prince.
Perhaps choosing to follow Javier into Verkes Forest was not such a bad decision after all.