Chapter 348: Judge Aron

"What’s the difference?"

"The difference is huge. Deciding *not* to tell the faithful the facts could lead to condemnation and punishment. But *not yet having decided* whether to tell them is a reasonable judgment based on the circumstances," Ivendel said. "Miss Victoria, do you feel it’s necessary to tell them every single detail of your life since the day you were born?"

"What you ate each day? How long you slept? The length of every candle during your prayers?"

"That..." Victoria knew, of course, that this was sophistry, but if she wanted to get through this ordeal safely, it was exactly this kind of rhetoric that she needed.

"It seems you agree," Ivendel said, turning to Ron. "Lord, Miss Victoria is as reasonable as you said. In that case, if you also approve of this approach, Miss Victoria, you may need some training over the next few days—but rest assured, the rhetoric will be perfectly respectable, proper, and reasonable."

"Are you sure?" Victoria still felt that something was off.

"I swear on my honor as a nobleman."

「In the days that followed」

Passing merchants and travelers noticed that the gateway from Delusional Land to the City-State Alliance had become unusually busy. Many goods were being moved in and out, and the flow of people was more frequent than ever. Some rumors claimed it was all in preparation to welcome a delegation, but as for who this so-called "delegation" was, or what they were here for, no one could say for sure.

「A week later, on a hot afternoon」

A fully armed four-person team, riding horses and pack animals, slowly approached the southern checkpoint of the trade post.

"Raymond, I think we’ve reached our destination," Pergrande said, sitting atop the broad back of her pack animal, rocking rhythmically with her mount’s movements. "Truly the frontier of frontiers. Look at these crude buildings. The light of civilization and order probably can’t advance a single step further than this."

Priestess Pergrande was thirty-six this year, but being unmarried, she had maintained excellent physical condition. Her black-and-white nun’s habit rose and fell over the iron armor that constrained her. On the pack animal she rode, her lead-weighted, heavy Magic Staff swayed from time to time.

"Do not use given names on official business, Priest Pergrande." The man in the lead, riding a strong brown horse, remained seated upright without turning his head. His beloved steed’s movements were just as precise, its four iron-shod hooves striking the solid dirt road one step at a time. Although the horse was unarmored, anyone who saw it could tell it was completely different from a common domestic horse, a horse bred for slaughter, or a racehorse—this was a battle-hardened warhorse.

"Furthermore, do not substitute your subjective assumptions for objective facts. The Lord here has transformed a savage swamp into a trade post and a town. This is unquestionably a meritorious act of spreading order. As for those rumors you’ve heard, they should not be a factor in your judgment."

"Alright, alright, Judge Aron, I stand corrected," Pergrande said with a shrug. "I haven’t actually let it affect my judgment, you know. You see potential in the Lord here, and so do I. We just arrived at that conclusion differently."

"Be serious, Priest," a Big-bearded Dwarf sitting bolt upright on a pack animal to Pergrande’s right grumbled in a deep voice. "We represent the Molten Iron Barrier. How can you be so undisciplined!"

"We may have just come from the battlefield, but official business is official business. I advise you to discard your degenerate thoughts of sightseeing." Her companion to her left spoke up immediately after. Judging by his only slightly pointed ears, he had to be a Half-Elf. He wore only a coarse cloth robe, and at his waist hung a sheathed sword over a meter long.

"Speaking of which, I’ve always felt you seem to deviate from the doctrine, yet you somehow manage to pass every evaluation. It’s quite strange."

"There’s a reason I was nominated for Bishop for seven consecutive years on the battlefield, Monk," Pergrande snorted. "Alright, since our esteemed Judge has spoken, I will naturally follow his orders. Everyone, on your guard. The Lord here has been waiting for us for quite some time."

As a battle-tested veteran, Pergrande’s Perception was far keener than an ordinary person’s. Even though Ron wasn’t anywhere nearby and was using Magic to observe the four uninvited guests from afar, he still couldn’t escape her notice.

"They are without a doubt battle-hardened Warriors," Klade said, leaning on his halberd as he sat beside Ron. Behind him were two hundred goblins and three bear goblins. In addition, Delaford and Silvia were also hidden among the troops. "Are you sure you don’t need us to back you up? Soldiers and Adventurers are two very different things."

"Your presence could lead the situation directly to war," Ron said, waving his hands dismissively. "Let’s stick to the original plan. From this position, you can observe the place where we’ll be meeting shortly. Watch for my signal. If things really go wrong, you’ll have your chance to act."

"Victoria, Aive, Sera, Quest, and Andre, you’re with me. Ivendel, you lead the way. If necessary, you will answer questions for Victoria."

"As you command." Ivendel had been ordered to get a good night’s rest yesterday, so he appeared particularly sharp today.

Victoria subconsciously clenched her fists. She had been thinking about this day and night, already prepared for the worst. ’But... I hope it doesn’t come to that.’

After their masters submitted documents to the guards, the brown warhorse and three pack animals ambled into the trade post. This den, once a bandits’ nest, now showed no trace of its lawless past. The smell of gold, silver, and Copper Coins mingled with the scents of various goods, filling the air and assaulting nostrils accustomed to the stench of blood and filth.

’Every "furlough" is a form of salvation,’ the Big-bearded Dwarf in the horned helmet murmured to himself. ’Only by returning to civilization can we remember the meaning of life and not descend into becoming demons who know only slaughter.’

"Are you gentlemen here on business, or looking for a room?" A bold inn-boy plucked up his courage and stepped forward, reaching to take the lead Judge’s horse. Aron seemed inclined to hand over the reins, but the warhorse beneath him merely bared its teeth. An indescribable aura washed over the boy, drenching him in a head-to-toe chill. He let out a terrified shriek and hopped backward like a rabbit, fleeing into the inn without a second glance.

Seeing this, how could any of the others who wanted to strike up a conversation or solicit business dare to approach? The crowd scattered in an instant, leaving the widest part of the trade post to these mere four people and four beasts.

Aron pulled back the reins, seemingly unfazed by the scene. He narrowed his eyes, their color close to that of his warhorse’s coat, and watched the group approaching against the flow of the crowd.

’Five humans, one Half-Elf. Aside from that Tiffling, nothing seems out of place.’

"That’s a Martial Monk," the Monk with the long sheathed sword said, naturally knowing his colleague’s thoughts. "Judging by his gait, he must have trained with the Shadow Sect."

’That simplifies things. A Priest of Heim and a Cultivator from the Shadow Sect together. Either they’re both trouble, or neither is. There’s no third possibility.’

Aron nodded slightly to show he had heard. When Ron’s party drew a few meters closer, the Chief Judge raised the hand holding his riding crop high into the air. "All units—dismount and fall in!"

"Third Parish of the Molten Iron Barrier! Chief Judge Raymond Aron! I have come on the order of the Grand Judge and the Archbishop to carry out my Religious Order’s duty to review the relevant clergy!"