As the trial was adjourned, Brandon was immediately free.
Amelia and Belle rushed towards him, the two locking him in an embrace.
"Brandon!"
Brandon ruffled their hair gently, and flashed the two a warm smile.
"Are you okay? How badly did they hurt you?"
Amelia asked.
"It's nothing much. I'm fine."
Brandon shrugged it off, and the two pulled away. Amelia and Belle seemed like they wanted to say something, most probably regarding Evelyn's death, but refrained from doing so.
Instead, Amelia posed the same question, trying to ask about his mental health, but in a roundabout way.
"Are you.... okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Brandon flexed his bicep.
"See?"
And flashed her yet another warm smile.
"Ah, okay....."
She wasn't talking about him physically.... But Amelia stopped questioning there, and Belle remained silent.
They knew his smile was a facade, an attempt to reassure them. But behind his eyes, there was emptiness they couldn't describe.
"Listen, Brandon—" Belle was just about to speak, when Brandon suddenly walked forward.
"Anyway, let's go. I'm kinda tired."
"Y–Yeah, okay."
Brandon strode off without glancing back, as if he hadn't realized the two women weren't following him.
Amelia and Belle exchanged glances, a look of concern spreading across their faces.
"Is he gonna be okay?"
Belle asked.
"....I don't know. But.... I feel like things will be different from now on."
It became apparent to them after the trial, seeing all the articles, and the posts on social media regarding the trial.
The entire world's eyes were on Brandon Locke.
***
Crossing her legs, after the trial was adjourned and the broadcasting ended, Lust blinked her eyes, unable to process what just happened.
How did he figure things out?
But the bigger question that swirled in her mind was....
'Where did his knowledge regarding the Archbishops come from?'
Things didn't go according to plan at all.
WHIII—
All of a sudden, a portal materialized behind her seat, and a man emerged shortly after, causing Lust to frown in disgust.
"You again...."
It was Pride.
"You've completely fucked up big–time."
"...."
Lust had tried to deny it in her heart, assuring herself that in the end, she had broken Brandon mentally.
"Look how the turns tabled."
"...."
Pride shook his head, sighing as he stood upright.
"You're a hopeless case."
"...."
She ignored him, her thoughts already spiraling back to Brandon. The trial had been a setback, but it wasn't over.
Everything may have been exposed to the world, but her identity still remained a secret.
"Just so you know, it seems like the Elders are on his side, any way you can handle that?"
"I know. I've already thought of some countermeasures against it."
But changing the topic.
"Are you going to remain idle? I know you aren't posted here, but he's opposed the Archbishops entirely. What about the others? Have they said anything about it?"
"It's not my job to clean up your mess. You know how the Archbishops are—"
They all had different objectives that suited their needs.
In other words, they were doing whatever they wanted.
As if the entire world was their play–pen.
"But in the end, you've accomplished what you were here for in the first place."
While they had all operated under their own volition, the Archbishops had one shared collective.
To find every humanoid races' whereabouts.
Holy Britannia might've thought they had all emerged from the calamity a year ago.
But that couldn't be further from the truth.
They had been here all along, hidden in plain sight.
Not even the current Elders were aware of this secret.
After all, those Elders who knew were long dead.
"Someone's coming. Thought I'd give you a heads–up."
"Who?"
"Greed."
***
"Oh?"
A man seated in a throne, rubbed his chin with his brows raised.
Ghostly strands framed his face, his gaze, a piercing shade of amethyst, gleamed with interest.
"Could it be?"
He had seen the broadcast for himself.
The man was none other than the Archbishop Sin of Wrath.
Seeing Brandon Locke's provocation, a myriad of thoughts filled Wrath's mind.
It was nothing but a broadcast, something he could see on the screen.
Yet Wrath could more or less estimate Brandon Locke's strength.
He was weak.
Undoubtedly so.
But that confidence....
It was akin to pride.
No, not quite.
It was vanity itself.
"Is it really—"
The thought just wouldn't leave his mind.
"Vainglory?"