HTLCCBFT Chapter 204

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 204

“Ticher.”

While waiting, Daining anxiously glanced at her friend and whispered, “Is this really okay?”

That was the notorious Rayper, the successor of the former sheriff!

As the former sheriff and personal knight deeply trusted by the late Count McKenna, in the eyes of insignificant commoners like them,

he was practically a terrifying presence in this city, second only to the Count and the butler Spire in prestige.

Not only did other knights show him respect, but even those minor nobles trying to approach Count McKenna treated him courteously.

Even with the Duke’s arrival and Gregor city changing hands, and Count McKenna already dead, Gad’s intimidation over the city’s people wouldn’t fade away so quickly.

Even Gad’s old rivals wouldn’t rush to kick him while he was down—who knew how many connections that old fox had accumulated through his authority over all these years?

Probably as vast as the wealth piled up in his family’s treasury.

“Yes. Daining, we can do this.”

Ticher tightly grasped her friend’s cold hand and said solemnly.

If she hadn’t encountered Miss Lucy last night and missed that scolding that made her blush, she would probably be as timid as Daining was now, wouldn’t she?

“We must stand up.”

Though also frightened inside, she pretended to be confident and gently advised her panicked friend: “If they didn’t intend to help us, they wouldn’t have arrested Rayper… that scoundrel from the start! If we don’t come forward to testify, wouldn’t we be embarrassing the honorable guards and shaming the respected Duke who established such laws to protect us?”

It seemed like continuous strength was being transmitted through their tightly clasped hands.

Daining covered her pounding chest and took a deep breath: “I understand, you’re right.”

Just as the two girls finished their whispered conversation, the tightly shut door reopened.

The first to enter was that tall, straight-backed knight whose noble attire matched the dignity surrounding him, making people instinctively fearful.

They didn’t know his name, of course they didn’t dare ask, only widening their eyes uneasily, unable to hide their fear as they looked at the two people behind him.

“They’re here!”

Like cornered young animals, Daining’s recently mustered courage seemed to drain away as she whispered almost despairingly.

Ticher didn’t respond, only pressed her lips tightly together, trying to maintain a resolute expression.

When they saw that terrifying face that had captured them last night—they now knew it belonged to someone called Fuyero—their hearts couldn’t help but tremble violently.

However, when they saw Rayper, both girls’ eyes widened involuntarily.

With a clearly visible boot print on his face, blood mixed with tears and snot, still sniffling… was that pathetic man really the usually arrogant and domineering Rayper?

Both of them fell into a daze.

The guard said respectfully: “Sir Loyel, everyone is present.”

“Hmm.”

Loyel said coldly: “Everyone stand up. Siger[mfn]斯杰尔(Sī jié ěr)[/mfn] will first describe last night’s situation.”

As the Deputy Knight Commander, Loyel naturally did not need to preside over every criminal trial.

According to the new laws enacted by the Duke, minor disputes were typically adjudicated by the formal captain on duty at the time.

If the convicted party disagreed with the verdict and protested, the case would proceed to a review stage—where the ten formal captains on duty that day would participate in the trial, with the majority decision prevailing.

If dissatisfaction persisted, the case would be escalated to the sheriff or the Deputy Knight Commander for personal involvement in the trial, known as the final judgment.

The reason Loyel presided over this trial from the outset was due to Rayper’s unique status, which fell somewhere between nobility and commoner.

Siger was the squad captain who had apprehended Rayper.

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

He stepped forward resolutely and recounted events methodically: starting with Miss Lucy, followed by Ticher’s guidance, their discovery of the unconscious and disheveled girl Daining, and the dramatic encounter where the suspect they were seeking was found assaulting a young man on the road.

“Siger,” Loyel inquired expressionlessly, following procedure, “do you dare swear to the great Cat God and the sacred Duke that everything you have just said is absolutely true, without a single exaggeration or lie?”

Mentioning the deity he devoutly believed in softened Siger’s stern expression slightly.

He leaned forward slightly, performing the most standard squire’s salute taught by his knight instructor, and declared emphatically, “I swear upon my life to those two sacred beings—if a single word I have spoken is untrue, may I perish like dust and cease to exist.”

Loyel gave a slight nod and glanced indifferently at the two stunned girls. “Witness testimony.”

Both the witnesses, who had never seen such a formal proceeding, and the restrained suspect were intimidated.

Rayper, still dazed from the profound humiliation and pain of having his face stomped by a combat boot, only snapped back to awareness when he heard Daining—the lowly slum girl he hadn’t even had time to satisfy his desires with—daring to accuse him. He erupted in fury: “How dare you—”

Loyel cast a cold glance his way.

“It is not the suspect’s turn to speak. Silence.”

Even filled with rage, Rayper had no desire to relive the horror of having his face publicly stomped again.

He fell silent immediately, but his gaze toward Daining burned with naked hatred.

This successfully made Daining, already fearful of him, speak in an increasingly faint and trembling voice.

Yet, with Ticher’s silent encouragement, she held back her tears and slowly completed her account.

Fuyero, who had sensed impending doom earlier, could no longer escape.

As a participant in the violence, his face ashen, he stepped into the suspects’ standing area, bowing his head and enduring Rayper’s scornful gaze at closer range.

When it was Ticher’s turn, she spoke fluently and clearly, never once looking at the furious Rayper nor affected by his malicious stare.

This earned her a measure of respect from Loyel, who nodded slightly and signaled to the guard of the court of justice: “Submit the evidence.”

After a series of procedures that Rayper couldn’t comprehend at all, Loyel—who already had sufficient evidence and witness testimonies to deliver a verdict—coldly inquired, “Do you admit to the violence you inflicted upon Daining? Rayper, Fuyero.”

Fuyero softly responded with a “Yes,” while Rayper curled his lips indifferently and casually admitted, “Yes.”

They were just two girls from the slums whom no one would care about if they died—oh, and one of them had long been selling her body as a prostitute! Even if he hadn’t succeeded at the time, it would have been an honor for them had he done it.

Regardless of what this detestable knight intended to do, he just wanted to get out of this damned place as soon as possible!

“Very well.”

Loyel was equally straightforward, making the final pronouncement: “For using violent means to assault and insult civilian women, though the attempt was unsuccessful, the attitude was reprehensible with no signs of remorse or apology. Therefore, in accordance with the law, Rayper and Fuyero are sentenced to five years of imprisonment and a fine of two gold coins.”

The trial concluded.

“What?!”

Before Fuyero could react, Rayper let out an incredulous scream first.

The fine was one thing, but imprisonment?!

He was actually going to be locked up for five whole years because of two insignificant, lowly prostitutes?!

“No, you can’t!”

His face flushed crimson with agitation, rage and shock overwhelming his fear as he roared loudly, “They were just two prostitutes! Are you insane?!”

“If the convict disagrees, they may file an appeal afterward,” Loyel said coldly and decisively. “Be grateful for this, for if not for the Duke’s generosity, you would have no right to object—so, until you are prepared to appeal, you will be detained. Take them away.”

Having witnessed many such reactions—from those who ran rampant before the law changed only to be left dumbfounded and even weeping afterward—he paid no mind to the insult directed at him. In truth, he rarely bothered with madmen and trash, unless they touched upon that one forbidden topic known as his “young master.”

“—No, Your Honor.”

At that moment, the main door swung open once more.

Standing before the flustered and anxious guard was Gad, his face ashen as he barged into the just-concluded trial.

His sharp, cold hawk-like eyes fixed unwaveringly on the vice-knight captain who had made this absurd and ridiculous decision, he confidently uttered words that twisted right and wrong: “Your Honor, you cannot do this. He is my heir—the heir of a knight. You must know that since ancient times, any freeman who dares to offend a knight’s dignity must pay with their life!”

He never would have dreamed that the commotion Pharmaci had casually mentioned was actually the noise made when his heir was seized by a group of slave guards!

At the time, to ensure maximum secrecy, he had even sent his son to stay temporarily at an inn and certainly wouldn’t have left his wife or servants behind.

This led to the situation where, while he was meticulously plotting a conspiracy against Duke Oliver, his own son was captured by the most insignificant underlings of his opponent! And even subjected to immense torment!

Watching Rayper’s tear-streaked face marked by a large boot print, his wretched appearance with tears and blood mingled together, Gad could only clench his jaw tightly to restrain his trembling rage.

This was utter humiliation—for Rayper, for himself, for their newly devised plan, and for the entire family!

Yet Loyel paid him no mind.

He didn’t even spare a glance at the former sheriff, now the most esteemed knight in Gregor City, instead turning to several guards who averted their eyes and stating tersely, “Names. Squad numbers.”

The guards jolted, despairingly reporting their names and squad numbers.

“Granting unauthorized entry to irrelevant individuals, disrupting the order of the court of justice,” Loyel declared coldly. “Twenty lashes, ten days in confinement.”

“Yes.”

Upon receiving the clear punishment—though it was unduly harsh—the guards showed a flicker of relief in their eyes, genuinely exhaling in relief.

When they had hesitated, intimidated by Gad’s former status as sheriff and noble, and allowed him into the court of justice, they already knew they had erred.

Whatever the punishment, as long as it didn’t mean expulsion from the guards, they were willing to accept it.

“As for you.”

Only then did Loyel turn to Gad, whose face was contorted with fury, and with deliberate, elegant slowness, removed the white glove from his right hand.

“Pa.”

A shadow swept past.

Gad, who hadn’t personally engaged in any combat for a long time, caught sight of the dark blur but lacked the agility to evade it.

He could only watch helplessly as it struck his face with a soft sound.

It was the white glove Loyel had just removed.

It didn’t hurt.

But the sheer contempt behind it made him taste the pinnacle of humiliation!

“I, in my personal capacity, accept this provocation of yours—even if the confidence behind it seems to stem from disrespect toward the new laws enacted by His Highness.”

The tall, burly Vice Knight Commander slightly lowered his head.

This wasn’t out of respect, but so that Gad, who stood a full head shorter, could clearly see his face. “Since you are a knight, insisting on defending your honor, then let us resolve this matter in the manner of knights.”

“Now. Pick up your sword.”

He turned abruptly, as if elegantly brushing off a speck of dust from his attire, his steps composed and resolute.

” — Come with me to the dueling arena.”

---