The Extra is a Hero?-Chapter 323: TRIAL BEGINS
Chapter 319: Trial Begins
_The Execution Platform_
The Hall of Verdicts was packed. Thousands of Elves filled the marble stands—nobles in silver, commoners in green, and the Silver Guard in shining plate. In the center of the amphitheater, the roots of the World Tree had formed a raised dais.
Professor Lysandra was kneeling there.
She looked bad. The glowing vines binding her wrists had tightened, cutting into her skin. Her mana was being siphoned off in visible waves of blue light, feeding the roots beneath her.
Standing over her was Elder Valen. He held a ceremonial dagger made of obsidian—a Soul-Severing Blade.
"Citizens of Sylvaren!" Valen’s voice boomed, amplified by wind magic. "We stand at the precipice! The Rot spreads! The King lies on his deathbed, struck down by human treachery!"
The crowd roared in anger.
"This woman," Valen pointed the dagger at Lysandra. "This outsider poisoned the roots! She sought to bring the Abyss into our holy city! But the Tree demands justice! The Tree demands blood to heal!"
"Kill the witch!" a noble shouted.
"Purge the Rot!" the crowd chanted.
Valen raised the dagger high. "By the authority of the High Council, I sentence you to Root Reclamation."
He swung the blade down.
BOOM.
The massive double doors of the amphitheater exploded inward. Splinters of ancient oak rained down on the crowd.
Standing in the debris, bathed in a golden aura, was Leon Lionheart.
"STOP!" Leon roared, his voice carrying the weight of a Hero’s command.
Behind him, Maria stepped through the smoke, the ground freezing under her boots. Selena moved like a shadow, and I walked in the center, holding the King’s Signet Ring high.
"Who dares interrupt the Council?" Valen shouted, though his eyes flickered with recognition—and fear.
"We do," I announced, walking down the central aisle. The Silver Guards moved to intercept us, but a glare from Maria froze them in their tracks. Literally.
"We are the witnesses to the crime," I said, stepping onto the dais. "And the criminal isn’t the woman on her knees. It’s the man holding the knife."
A murmur ran through the crowd. Accusing an Elder was unheard of.
"Insolence!" Valen spat. "Arrest them! They are the witch’s accomplices!"
"We have proof!" I shouted, raising my wrist-comp. "We found the farm, Valen! We found the Nether-Iron pumps beneath the roots! We know you’re feeding the tree Dark Mana!"
I tapped the play button.
[Audio Playback Initiated]
The massive voice of the Parasite King boomed through the amphitheater, distorted but recognizable.
"...The hunger grows... Bring me the Usurper’s blood..."
And then Valen’s voice, trembling and desperate: "I do this for Sylvaren! I do this to save the Tree!"
The crowd went silent. The nobles looked at each other, confusion warring with shock.
Valen stood frozen for a second. Then, he started to laugh.
It was a cold, practiced laugh.
"A clever trick," Valen said, shaking his head with mock pity. "Humans are known for their illusions. You use your mechanical toys to mimic voices? You think the High Elves will be swayed by parlor tricks and shadow-play?"
He turned to the crowd, spreading his arms.
"Look at them! A Necromancer! A Blood-Witch! And a Hero corrupted by the Void! They seek to divide us! That recording is a forgery, created by the same Abyssal magic that poisoned the King!"
"It’s not a forgery!" Leon yelled. "We were there!"
"Were you?" Valen sneered. "Or were you planting the evidence yourselves? Guards! Seize them! Execute them alongside their mistress!"
The crowd’s mood shifted instantly. They didn’t understand the technology. They didn’t trust us. They trusted the Elder who had led them for centuries.
"Traitors!" someone screamed. A stone flew from the stands, hitting Leon’s armor.
"They aren’t listening," Maria whispered, her hands sparking with dangerous mana. "Michael, permission to freeze the stadium?"
"No," I said, my mind racing. "If we fight, we prove him right. We become the invaders."
I looked at Valen. He was smiling. He knew he had won. In the court of public opinion, the truth didn’t matter. Only the narrative mattered.
And he owned the narrative.
I need to flip the board, I thought. I can’t win with logic. I need to win with Lore.
I stepped forward, pushing past the guards.
"You call it a forgery, Valen?" I challenged. "You say we are liars?"
"I say you are filth," Valen replied.
"Then let the Tree decide," I said loudly. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚
The crowd quieted down.
I raised the King’s Ring. "I invoke the Ordeal of Yggdrasil! The Trial by Spirit!"
Valen’s smile vanished. His face went pale.
A gasp went through the assembly. Even the Silver Guards lowered their weapons.
[Lore Unlocked: The Ordeal of Yggdrasil]
[Ancient Elven Law: If a verdict is disputed, the accused (or a champion) may enter the Spirit Realm via the World Tree. If they are innocent, the Tree will return them unharmed. If they are guilty, their soul is consumed.]
"The Ordeal..." Valen whispered. "No one has invoked that law in five hundred years. No one has returned from the Spirit Realm since the First Era."
"Are you afraid, Elder?" I taunted. "If you are innocent, if the Tree is truly healthy as you say, then there is nothing to fear. But if the Roots are rotting... if there is a Demon inside..."
I let the implication hang in the air.
The crowd began to murmur again. This wasn’t politics. This was religion. To refuse the Ordeal was to deny the faith.
"He invokes the Old Law!" a noble shouted. "Let the Tree judge!"
Valen looked at the crowd. He saw he was losing control. He looked at me, his eyes burning with hatred. He knew what was inside the Spirit Realm. He knew the Parasite King was waiting.
He smiled again. A cruel, sharp smile.
"Very well," Valen said. "You wish to throw your life away, human? I accept the challenge. But the Ordeal requires a Champion. Lysandra is bound. Who will step into the Abyss for her?"
"I will," I said instantly.
"Warning," Selena stepped forward. "Probability of survival for a single combatant in the Spirit Realm is 0.004\%. The environment is hostile to carbon-based life forms."
She looked at me, then at Valen.
"I volunteer as secondary unit," Selena announced. "My bloodline has high affinity with the Roots. My presence increases survival probability to 12\%."
"No, Selena," Leon started. "I should—"
"You are a tank, Leon," Selena cut him off. "The Spirit Realm attacks the mind, not the body. You have low mental resistance. You stay here. Protect the physical bodies."
She walked up to stand beside me.
"Two champions?" Valen mused. "Double the sacrifice. The Tree will be pleased."
He gestured to the massive root-gate behind the dais.
"Open the Spirit Gate!" Valen commanded.
The roots writhed and parted, revealing a swirling vortex of grey mist. A cold wind blew from the portal, smelling of old memories and decay.
"You have one hour," Valen said. "If you do not return, Lysandra dies. And the Tree feasts on your souls."
I looked at Leon and Maria.
"Hold the line," I told them. "Don’t let them kill Lysandra while we’re under."
"Come back," Leon whispered, gripping my shoulder.
I turned to Selena.
"Ready to go to hell?" I asked.
Selena adjusted her grip on her scythe. "Hell is an abstract concept. But if you are referring to the sub-dimension of highly aggressive spiritual entities... then yes. I am ready."
We stepped into the mist.
The world dissolved.
(To be Continued)
