Bermuda

"Can’t we move any faster?"

As they entered the 2nd Mana Control Zone, Andreas, unable to contain himself any longer, voiced his impatience. Even though they had made significant progress at this slow pace, they still had a long way to go before reaching Council headquarters.

The deeper they moved into the Imperial Capital, the harder it became to control the citizens, and traffic was becoming completely gridlocked.

Because of this one prisoner, the Council had deployed heavy support nonstop—and now the entire operation was taking much longer than expected. Even unrelated civilians were getting caught in the chaos, and voices of discontent grew louder by the minute.

But despite Andreas’ urging gaze, Hugo shook his head firmly.

"We can’t risk any shock reaching inside the cage. We need to move as slowly as possible."

"I get that, but... at this pace, we’ve still got a long way to go."

Andreas glanced around, struggling to hold back his frustration. At the start, Council members had formed single lines on either side of the escort path, but now, under the growing pressure of the crowd, they were forced into a near double line just to maintain the barricades.

It was hard to watch the members straining to hold back the tide of people. Even in this state of emergency, the Imperial Army Command still turned a blind eye, sending no support—not even belatedly.

"Don’t throw anything! Please stand back!"

"It’s dangerous! Cooperate for your own safety!"

The Council members’ strained voices shouting at the crowd, the cheers for capturing Leonardo Blaine, and the screams of condemnation all echoed through the vast square of the Imperial Capital.

The sound, bouncing between buildings enclosing the square, formed a resonant, deafening echo.

That echo shook the hearts of the crowd, and as if fueled by that emotion, the citizens closest to the procession became almost frenzied, looking ready to rush the cage holding Leonardo.

In truth, there was hardly a word of support for the Council from them. They were hurling only curses, their emotions boiling over into pure rage directed at Leonardo Blaine.

Flynn silently gripped the reins, walking along the straight road ahead. His face was resolute, as if he couldn’t hear a thing around him.

Though brief, Flynn had bonded with Tergio—and had wrestled with his own doubts before choosing to believe in him. Learning that Tergio was actually Leonardo Blaine had left him deeply shaken.

His disappointment in Leonardo’s deception was indescribable. And yet, another question began gnawing at him: Did Leonardo Blaine really deserve this kind of humiliation?

"Die!"

"Kill him!"

"Execute him!"

As if swept up by collective madness, cries of hate and vengeance filled the square.

"Murderer!"

"Demonic bastard!"

They pointed at him, tearing him apart as if he were the embodiment of all evil.

Amid the roar rising across the Capital, Flynn recalled that morning when the empire’s most beloved war hero had fallen so miserably. Back then, too, the streets had overflowed with people—jeering, not mourning—the end of a man who had once held their trust.

The rage in other regions was more subdued, but the people of the Imperial Capital had their own reasons for their fury.

In his final battle three years ago, Leonardo had disobeyed orders for personal reasons, failing to capture a crucial high ground that could have sealed victory against the Turandos Empire—resulting in massive casualties.

At the time, Raina Logia had been locked in a nine-year cycle of war and ceasefire with Turandos, which bordered the central-western region. As a result, citizens near the western front endured relentless air raids, poverty, and hunger.

The survivors—those who’d lived daily life amid smoke and steel—had fled the raids and relocated en masse to the outskirts of the Imperial Capital.

Their only wish was for the war to end quickly.

Having given up everything—food, clothes, homes—for soldiers on the front lines, when they learned that victory had slipped away due to the disobedience of a trusted hero, all their grief turned to fury.

Throughout the nine-year war, both empires suffered heavy losses, and civilians lived with the constant pain of losing homes and loved ones, clinging to hope that the war might end.

The longer it dragged on, the more fanatically they hailed returning victors as national heroes.

But when the hero who’d disobeyed orders during the most critical battle—one that caused the worst losses in history—returned alive, they condemned him as a disgrace. They said death would have been more honorable.

No one cared what mental state he’d been in—or what kind of order he’d refused.

Three years ago, the institutions, papers, and news outlets had reported only on Leonardo’s defiance, the empire’s loss, and the ongoing war—never once discussing what the actual order had been.

Flynn had sometimes wondered about the real story, but the incident was a top-level military secret. Only military officials, certain executives, and Leonardo Blaine himself would ever know.

****

It was common for noble sons to serve in the army to prove their family’s loyalty and valor. Hugo had done the same, serving for several years before joining the Council.

He’d served before the war with Turandos began—but even then, tensions were at their worst, so he fully understood the war’s importance from a soldier’s point of view.

So when he first heard that the empire’s brightest Arm Silver had defied orders during the most decisive battle, rejected the military court’s verdict, and caused a fire in the process, Hugo had also looked upon that man with extreme disapproval.

From a soldier’s standpoint, his actions were inexcusable. The military was founded on a rigid hierarchy of orders and obedience.

And disobeying orders, ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) especially in a battle where the fate of the entire war hung in the balance, undermined that foundation. No matter the reason, personal feelings had no place there.

The empire had been desperate for that war to end. Victory had been within his reach.

That belief hadn’t changed much even now. The fact that Leonardo had committed a serious offense remained. But at the very least, Hugo realized the people were under a grave misconception.

Leonardo had been dishonorably discharged by a military tribunal three years ago, imprisoned, and released on parole six months later. The reason his sentence had been relatively short was because the court found no intent to betray or harm his comrades—and more importantly, his past battlefield achievements had been extraordinary.

Yet despite that, the public now rained down curses on the fallen hero. People only remembered the ending. In the end, he was branded a criminal.

Though he was now bound excessively, prepared for any potential threat, the true reason the Council was transporting Leonardo Blaine was to officially register him as a mage—no longer a fugitive—and further investigate the still unresolved Frost monster smuggling case.

But the citizens believed he hadn’t paid the price for his crime.

As Hugo walked directly behind the cage, listening to the public’s venom, he understood exactly why Leonardo had been forced to hide his mana, hide his face, and live as if dead—erased from the world.

Creak—

As if even the prisoner had grown weary of listening, the cage’s creaking slowly faded. Hugo stared at the iron bars, eyes cold and heavy, and thought as if speaking to the man surely hearing it all from within.

You probably believed you’d atoned once you were released from prison. But as someone from Bermuda, you should have known—disobeying the empire’s orders would never be forgiven.

Verbal abuse. Screaming rage. Hatred pushed to madness.

All of it too cruel for someone so young to endure. And no one had the right to say he’d done enough wrong to warrant all of it.

But at the same time, Hugo believed: only by facing that past head-on and taking responsibility could Leonardo move forward again.

Public judgment of Leonardo Blaine was deeply warped. That was precisely because he was from Bermuda—a place steeped in both awe and contempt throughout history.

Today, it wasn’t rare to see Bermuda natives living as proper citizens. Their numbers had grown—but discrimination and baseless hatred still lingered.

Leonardo’s downfall had become a convenient excuse to reignite that hate. Some used their rage toward him to freely vent hatred toward all Bermuda natives.

"He bragged about being from Bermuda—look at him now!"

Among the scattered voices, one pierced Hugo’s ear. He turned his head sharply, eyes freezing—but the speaker had already disappeared into the crowd.

Hugo’s expression hardened. That wasn’t just meant for Leonardo. It was for him, too.

But anyone who claimed a Bermudan "boasted" clearly knew nothing. There was no one from Bermuda who could boast of their origins.

Eventually, Hugo looked back toward the now-silent cage. No more creaking.

People are easily swept up by others’ outrage. They believe in it. They’re easily manipulated. And the stones they hurl without thinking... are the weight of your sins.

Despite those thoughts, Hugo tried to steady his expression as his mood continued to sour.

The crowd was overheated. Their fervor still rising.

And then—one of the Council members was pushed aside by the citizens, and the barrier he was holding... collapsed.