Malty, with her fiery disdain, harbored a deep-seated hatred for three particular things. First and foremost, her animosity was directed towards Naofumi, the object of her intense loathing. Secondly, she despised any situation where she couldn't have her desires fulfilled, a frustration that fueled her resentment. And lastly, her eyes burned with contempt as she laid them upon the newest arrival, escorted by the vigilant guards.
The woman stood at a modest height of around 160 centimeters, her appearance unassuming yet captivating. Clad in a simple white tunic and brown pants, she exuded an air of humility. Her worn-out leather boots bore the marks of countless journeys, testament to her resilience. However, the sight of metal cuffs tightly encircling her wrists served as a stark reminder of her restricted freedom, preventing her from wielding her weapons.
With hair as white as freshly fallen snow, cascading down her back and reaching her bottom. Though not meticulously groomed, a few stray strands escaped their confinement, lending a touch of dishevelment to her appearance. However, it was evident that some effort had been made to keep her hair presentable, likely through infrequent but deliberate combing sessions.
Her pale complexion accentuated her delicate features, casting an otherworldly glow upon her face. But it was her eyes that held the most arresting allure. Deep scarlet orbs, like burning embers, pierced through the room, revealing a hint of mischief behind their intense gaze. A small, almost bored smile played upon her lips, adding an enigmatic quality to her countenance.
As the guards escorted her into the heart of the throne room, the atmosphere became charged with anticipation. All eyes were fixed upon the prisoner, awaiting the commencement of the trial. The room buzzed with whispered conversations and the shuffling of papers as preparations were made for the impending proceedings. The prisoner's enigmatic smile remained, as if she held a secret that only time would reveal.
Standing a few feet away from Queen Mirellia, the four cardinal Heroes assumed their positions, a united front in the face of an uncommon adversary. This prisoner was no ordinary criminal, and the Heroes were the only individuals known to possess the strength and skill necessary to confront and subdue such a formidable foe. It was a precautionary measure, ensuring that should the prisoner attempt any unexpected actions, the Heroes would be ready to respond.
The cloaked individuals gently lowered the neckline of her tunic, revealing a glimpse of her chest. One of the assistants handed them a brush, which they dipped into a bowl of scarlet mixture. With careful precision, they began to paint a slave crest on her skin. As the burning mark settled, the prisoner couldn't help but let out a slight hiss of discomfort.
"Aahhh... I kinda miss that feeling," she whispered, directed towards the individual who had just marked her. However, her comment went unnoticed, as the people swiftly exited the room, signaling the start of the official trial.
"Oh, Queen Mirellia of Melromarc," the prisoner taunted, a sly grin spreading across her face. "I must say, I was expecting to see the King himself, not the Queen gracing me with her presence. Has my reputation finally caught your attention, or have you simply found a moment to spare for someone as insignificant as me?" she provocatively questioned.
The prisoner's disrespectful words towards the Queen elicited a wave of negative reactions from those present. The four cardinal Heroes exchanged wide-eyed glances, clearly taken aback by the audacity of her remarks. Melty, in particular, shot a piercing glare at the prisoner, clearly displeased by the blatant rudeness. Meanwhile, the Nobles huddled together, whispering amongst themselves and pointing out the prisoner's lack of respect towards the Queen. Despite the commotion, the Queen remained composed, her expression unwavering as she let out a weary sigh. "Let us proceed with the trial," she calmly declared.
"Before we proceed any further, let us first address the crime you stand accused of," Queen Mirellia began, her voice firm and composed. "You are charged with inciting a rebellion against the church and attempting to murder its members without a clear motive. We would like to understand the reason behind your actions. Could you enlighten us?" she inquired, her tone measured and curious.
All eyes turned towards the accused as she nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. "Well, sure, I may have caused a bit of trouble for the Church on a couple of occasions. It's been a while though, and honestly, I can't quite recall the exact details," she replied with a casual tone, as if the incidents were of little consequence to her.
"Why is that?" Asked the Queen.
"Well, I mean, who wouldn't want to challenge the Church and their unjust practices?" the prisoner retorted, adopting a somewhat dismissive tone. "But believe it or not, I wasn't attempting to murder the members. I was actually trying to persuade them," she explained, her words delivered with a nonchalant demeanor.
The Queen shook her head, at a loss for how to engage in a meaningful conversation with the prisoner.
"And I heard the news that the Church has finally been brought to justice," the white-haired prisoner chimed in. "Kudos to whoever was responsible for that accomplishment," she added, acknowledging the effort made to hold the Church accountable.
Disregarding the prisoner's comment, Queen Mirellia pressed on, choosing to overlook the provocation. Recognizing the prisoner's knack for manipulation when trials dragged on, the Queen made a firm decision not to allow the situation to escalate any further.
"With the Church matter resolved and your imprisonment term served, I am ready to deliver my verdict," Queen Mirellia declared. "I hereby decree that Evangeline Blythe, the Gun Wielder, shall be released and shall henceforth serve Melromarc for the remainder of her days."
"My Queen!" exclaimed one of the nobles, rising from their seat. "That was not the decision that was made previously!"
"Gun Hero?"
"She is not originally from this place," the noble interjected.
"She intends to employ those peculiar devices fueled by powerful magic to cause harm. It's akin to a slingshot, but..."
"Aw, come on! How about you and I switch places, huh?" the prisoner exclaimed, her voice filled with frustration. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be in my shoes? Do you have any clue how monotonous and unpleasant it was to be confined in a prison cell?" She pointed her finger accusingly at the noble standing opposite her, her scarlet eyes glaring and her face contorted in a scowl. "It's not that I don't desire freedom. I understand that I pose some sort of threat in this world. And perhaps I even deserve death, but I refuse to die for some insignificant crime," she spat out, her words laced with defiance. The murmurs in the room had subsided, though they still lingered as a low hum. The noble she had singled out flinched, a bead of sweat trickling down his cheek.
"Are there any further objections?" inquired the Queen. Itsuki, the Bow Hero, raised his hand, and the Queen acknowledged him with a nod, granting him permission to speak.
"We must remain cautious around her. We are still unaware of her full capabilities, apart from what she has demonstrated in the past," he stated, casting a quick glance at Naofumi, who responded with a displeased glare.
"Well, she's attractive enough for me to not have any issues," Motoyasu chuckled, crossing his arms. The three other Heroes exchanged unamused glances, well aware of his reputation as a devoted admirer of beautiful women, often susceptible to manipulation as long as it came from a woman.
"Ahem-" Mirella clears her throat, loud enough to silence the murmurs.
"My verdict remains the same. Evangeline Blythe will be set free on the condition of surrendering her loyalty to Melromarc" she once again announced.