Inheritor Of Magic: The Magi King

Compared to the scene at the Capital building where the trials were being held, the rest of the area was in chaos. The worst offenders had realized that the tides had turned, and the soldiers were no longer on their side.

Meanwhile, the soldiers were releasing and protecting the witches, and making arrests of those that they knew should have been taken into custody ages ago. The area had reverted to the golden rule: The one with the guns makes the rules.

That was precisely what the locals were after, and while they weren’t always the biggest fans of the soldiers, and would have happily kicked them all out of town, they were willing to take what they could get, and what they could get was a good old-fashioned public lynching.

While Wolfe was preparing to hear the first testimonies in the trial, across the city, doors were being kicked in, and corrupt businessmen dragged out into the streets.

Many more had loaded what they could carry into a car and fled into the wilderness, but as was always the way, those with the most power had already left. They had fled the city and taken a flight back to the Grand Dutchies yesterday, when the decision was made to surrender to the delegation from Forest Grove.

What they would find when they got back was anyone’s guess. The Grand Dutchies had been changing rapidly in the past few months, and they were no longer the starving backwater that they used to be, nor did they rely on their military might to keep the people in line. So, even if they made it back to their home towns, there might not be much left for the disgraced sons and daughters of the oligarchs.

Wolfe settled into the centre seat of the council bench, which was now serving as the justice’s bench, and the military officers took their seats alongside their lawyers. The room filled with townspeople, the ones who got here the earliest and were close to the doors when they were opened, with more trying to pack in.

“Everyone, the seats are now filled. There is standing room on the upper balconies, but that too will soon be filled. I will put the proceedings on the intercom, so that those waiting outside can keep track of what has already been covered.” Wolfe announced, while pressing the button on the desk, to do exactly that.

“Now, I wish everyone a good morning, but first, I would like to inquire as to where the rest of the defendants are.” He continued.

The General rose to his feet and tapped the microphone button to address the crowd.

“As of this morning, fourteen officers and adjutants, as well as two members of the oligarchy, have accepted that their shame is unbearable and have decided to pursue the end of life rituals.” The General announced.

That was a fancy way to say that they had committed suicide during the night, but Wolfe would accept it. It wasn’t like he had a choice other than making them undead so he could judge them and kill them again.

The witches would likely approve of that measure, but in Wolfe’s mind, they still had enough defendants.

“In that case, would someone please read the charges against the missing defendants so that we can declare them guilty in absentia, and get on with these proceedings.” Wolfe declared.

A man stood up from the end of the bench with a stack of papers and began to speak, listing names and crimes they were accused of, finishing each with the phrase “Pleads no contest.”

That was about as accurate as Wolfe could imagine them describing the situation, and once the man was done, Wolfe read off the names and declared them all to be convicted of those crimes, with their sentences suspended due to death.

At least that way, if anyone had faked it, they weren’t getting off free and clear.

Then it was time to begin on the officers who were still here.

“I would like to call the first witness to the stand. Witness number one, please step forward and introduce yourself.” Wolfe announced.

The young witch stepped forward, and Wolfe noted the dark hair and eyes that marked her as having come from the Sylvan Coven. Where the witches of Morgana often had bright hair and gemstone eyes, the Sylvan witches were more commonly black haired and black eyed, with a deeply tanned skin tone.

Some still had the gemstone eyes that marked the powerful witches of Morgana, but others would just have their eyes turn from a natural brown to a deeper obsidian when their potential was very high.

“Good morning, Saint Noxus, and members of the Covens. My name is Corporal Inaya Patel, and I was captured during the battle of Sylvan City. For the majority of the last year, I have been kept as a slave among the personal staff of General Dirk’s executive officer, Colonel Cullan.

He was among the ones who chose the coward’s way out, and has already been convicted in absentia, but I believe that I may shed light on the situation.

You see, the General himself was not a bad master to the slaves that he kept, at least to the best of my knowledge. However, he is the worst kind of person. The sort that turns a blind eye to crimes that would be politically inconvenient to prosecute.

I have seen, on multiple occasions, the General accepting gifts from Colonel Cullen in exchange for his inaction on various accusations. It is well known to everyone in this room that Colonel Cullen was the son of Duke Cullen, one of the Grand Dukes who ruled their home nation.

As such, his opinion held much weight, and his displeasure could be wielded against the family that the other officers had at home.”

She paused and Wolfe began to respond. “Corporal Patel, would you say that it is a fair statement to call the General guilty of corruption?”

The witch nodded and Wolfe continued. “For the court, please record that the witness has non-verbally confirmed that statement. Now, would you say that it is accurate that you have personally seen the General commit human rights violations, other than the keeping of slaves.”

Corporal Patel got a sour look on her face, then sighed and shook her head. “No, I have not personally seen him abuse anyone, or deny them the basics of life.”

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