The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

Crash!

"Ugh."

The soldier who had dragged me to the underground cell threw me roughly into the iron cage. My frail body hit the ground like a discarded stone.

Clang!

The iron bars slammed shut.

"Slave Reaper, how dare you touch a nun of the Church? You’ve got some nerve. The Lord will punish you."

"Oh, come on. If someone as virtuous as me is punished, who would be left in this world?"

"Hmph! That smug mouth of yours will shut soon enough!"

Tsk.

There’s no shame in any job, but it seemed the clergy had already branded me a criminal. They weren’t even willing to listen to my side of the story.

To prove my innocence, I’d need help from Elise or Lucas...

Though, if I’m honest, I did technically commit human trafficking.

Buying Elise to free her might have been my intention, but from an objective perspective, I had indeed purchased her. And not only that, I placed a soul-shackle on her under the guise of setting her free.

Even if Elise or Lucas stepped forward as witnesses, once the master-slave dynamic was revealed, the whole defense would crumble. Things might even get worse.

"Should I play the ‘Pope card’ here?"

If I revealed that I’ve shared meals and even slept under the same roof with their beloved pope, I might be able to wriggle out of this. If that didn’t work, I’d have to roll the dice.

"Hmm..."

But honestly, I wasn’t too worried.

I’ve lived such a virtuous life, after all.

The proof of my righteousness would surely be shown by the heavens.

Confident in my inevitable acquittal, I lay down on the cold floor. Folding my coat into a square, I used it as a pillow. I was just killing time leisurely when I heard the guards whispering outside.

Shortly after, a nun in a pristine white robe approached the iron bars.

"Wow~ Of all the places for a reunion, it’s here? I always thought you’d get divine punishment someday, but I never imagined you’d pay the price in Kassilon."

"And you are?"

"Even if you pretend to be righteous and act like you care for others, a slaver is still a slaver."

With a sneering grin, the nun curled her lips as she looked at me, caged behind the bars. I recognized her face.

"Mira?"

"It’s Myra, actually."

She was the nun I’d met during the Mirabel Liberation arc. She’d tried to hinder us, had me imprisoned and interrogated, only to get her comeuppance from my Mirabel in the end.

"What brings you here?"

"Did you think I’d spend my entire life wandering the continent? Sometimes I come back home. And when I heard they’d captured the Slave Reaper, I just had to come and see."

I didn’t think we had any deep connection, but who knew she’d miss me this much? It pays to live virtuously—people even visit you in jail.

Myra glanced around curiously.

"Where’s the kid?"

"Who?"

She leaned close to the bars and whispered softly.

"The little witch."

"Oh, you mean Miss Mirabel? As promised, I sent her back to her mother."

"What?"

"She should be with her mother by now... though honestly, I’m not sure anymore."

After dealing with Elise, I’d have to find her and free her again, but I had no idea how to go about it.

I had uncovered her father’s secret and reunited her with her mother. All the conditions for her liberation had been met. But now I wasn’t sure if there were new conditions or if I could simply set her free.

"Still, she was smiling at the end, which was much better than when she was crying and trembling. That was satisfying. Liberation really has its rewards, doesn’t it?"

Bang!

Suddenly, Myra’s face twisted in rage as she grabbed the iron bars, looking as if she might tear them apart.

"You piece of trash...!"

"Why the sudden insults?"

"I knew it! I shouldn’t have let you go back then. I should’ve done whatever it took to bring that kid back!"

Why is she trying to steal someone else’s child?

Is she a trafficker too?

Seriously, what’s with clergy in fantasy worlds and their unhinged tendencies?

Myra stepped back from the bars, turning toward the exit. She cast a frosty glare over her shoulder.

"When you die, the slaves will rise and avenge everything you’ve done."

"So, when the master dies, the slaves welcome them? I really like that story too."

*****

The Tribunal of the Holy Kingdom

The courthouse, where the major and minor affairs of the Holy Kingdom are handled, is one of the most critical institutions maintaining the kingdom’s balance. Today, it was packed with people.

In a world severely lacking entertainment, trials and executions offered a rare diversion from boredom.

The courthouse, usually bustling with spectators, was even more crowded today.

"They say they’re putting that so-called Slave Reaper on trial?"

"Serial slave murders and nun trafficking, they said. Acting as if he had ten lives to spare, thinking he’d never get caught. Serves him right."

It wasn’t every day you got to see a notorious figure, infamous across the continent, finally face justice.

What a time to be alive.

All of this was thanks to Ordo, the God of Order.

Clank.

A door on one side of the courthouse opened. Flanked by paladins, Karami stepped out with his arms locked in theirs.

His wrists were bound with enchanted cuffs, suppressing both his magic and any mystical abilities. The paladins escorted him to the central stand of the tribunal.

"Quite the crowd."

I never knew I was this popular.

I achieved in this world what I couldn’t in real life.

Thanks for the enthusiasm, but too much attention is... inconvenient.

"Silence."

The judge’s soft voice spread through the room like a ripple.

The noisy hall instantly fell silent.

Karami lifted his gaze to find the voice’s owner.

A young girl in a white robe sat in the central seat of the tribunal.

It was Sigrid, the Judge of Kassilon.

"She’s even cuter in person."

Even as an NPC, she had been a fan favorite, thanks to her small and adorable appearance.

Wakya pya heok nong ssuk ssuk malang malang ilua wait or whatever nonsense her fans would chant.

She’d look perfect holding a stuffed rabbit.

Sigrid rose from her seat. Placing a hand over her chest, the audience followed suit, mirroring her gesture.

"Declaration. O great Ordo, Father of Order, we dedicate this trial to you. Cast out evil and allow the righteous to stand before your judgment. May the scales tilt according to your fairness."

The ceremonial declaration addressed to the deity before the trial commenced.

Karami flinched slightly.

To the spectators, it might have seemed like nervousness.

But it wasn’t.

It was excitement—and a shiver of anticipation.

"To think I’d live to witness this day."

To See It as a Defendant, Though

Judge Sigrid finished her declaration and took her seat, her dry, emotionless gaze fixed on Karami.

"Question. Are you the defendant, Slave Reaper Karami?"

"Yes."

"The defendant’s identity and charges have been formally recorded."

Sigrid unrolled the scroll in her hand.

"Verification. You are accused of trafficking followers of the Church, desecrating the sanctity of life, corrupting souls, and violating order and balance. Is this correct?"

"No."

"Re-question. Do you deny the charges? Refusal to admit guilt may result in harsher sentencing for this trial."

"How can I admit to crimes I didn’t commit?"

Sigrid nodded calmly.

"Confirmation. The defendant denies all charges. Proceeding to the next stage."

She extended her arm forward.

"Notification. Judgment will now be passed."

Her slender yet firm voice echoed through the hall.

Sigrid, the Judge of Kassilon, who had condemned countless criminals, summoned a glowing fragment of light that coalesced into a massive set of scales in the center of the courtroom.

This was the Church’s ritual of justice, rooted in order and balance.

The magic placed Sigrid’s and the defendant’s souls on the scales.

A soul’s weight represented its merits and sins. Good deeds condensed its weight, while evil acts eroded and lightened it. If the defendant’s soul weighed less than Sigrid’s, they would be found guilty. Conversely, if it was heavier or balanced, they would be declared innocent.

In other words, even if this particular incident was a misunderstanding, if the defendant had lived a sinful life, they would still be found guilty.

"What a ridiculously rotten method."

In a world where magic could even read memories, judging someone purely by ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) their past actions seemed absurd.

Still, it was better than trial by combat to see who wielded a sword better.

A white orb of light emerged from Sigrid and settled on one side of the scales.

Creak.

The scales tilted heavily toward her side. Since she had been appointed as Judge, the scales had never tipped the other way.

Because Sigrid was a special case in the Holy Kingdom.

She never overslept, never indulged in picky eating, and had never littered on the street. She was raised and managed by the Church solely for these trials.

The flawless Sigrid.

That was the name she was known by.

By the time any case reached her, a guilty verdict was already expected. The trial was merely a formality to justify the punishment.

"Next."

At her gesture, Karami’s soul emerged. Unlike hers, his soul radiated a deep black hue.

"No need to look; he’s guilty."

"My thoughts exactly. Even if you put my soul on the scales, it’d still tip his way."

Hidden among the crowd, Antonius murmured, while Elise watched quietly from the second floor. Hundreds of spectators, in unison, predicted the outcome.

Karami’s soul floated to the opposite side of the scales and settled.

Clunk.

The scales trembled slightly. It was insignificant but unexpected for most.

They had assumed his soul would be as light as a feather.

Apparently, he had accumulated some merit.

At most, they thought it would wobble briefly before settling. Their faith in the divine justice of Ordo remained unwavering.

Creak.

But, betraying the devout believers’ expectations, the scales began to shift.

The plate holding Sigrid’s soul rose, while the one with Karami’s soul started to descend.

Bit by bit.

Gradually.

As the balance shifted, the murmurs among the crowd grew louder.

"...Huh?"

"Wait, that can’t be right."

"No way."

But the scales did not stop. The two souls, once at opposite extremes, moved closer to equilibrium until finally, they balanced.

Innocent.

The God of Order, Ordo, had declared Karami innocent.

That alone was a shocking revelation. For some, it was already too much to process.

But the scales kept moving.

They tilted further, breaking the balance, and the two souls crossed positions.

Sigrid, who had maintained a marble-like composure, flinched, her brows twitching.

Clunk.

At last, the scales came to a halt.

But the result was unexpected.

The beam was slanted.

On the lower side was the black soul.

On the higher side, the white soul.

Karami’s soul was heavier than Sigrid’s.

This meant that his accumulated merit far exceeded hers.

"Pfft... See? How many times did I say it? No, scratch that. I must have said it hundreds of times."

Karami burst into a mocking laugh, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"I’m a virtuous slave trader, after all!"