The Magical Holy Woman Seraphina - Chapter 63

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Magic Saint Seraphina
Episode 63
“I slipped in while the servants weren’t looking.”
“Slipped in?”
“Yes.”
“So you came alone, then?”
“Yes.”
“Ah.”
I see. I nodded.
The itching vanished in an instant.
My chest felt as refreshed and bright as if I’d drunk a hundred glasses of lemonade.
“That makes sense. You did well. I would’ve snuck in too if I didn’t have the High Priest.”
You did so very well.
I laughed and showered praise, then felt something brush against my foot.
Looking down, it was the toe of Arden’s shoe.
My shoe was pressed right against his.
‘When did I get this close to Arden?’
Arden hadn’t moved a step, so it must have been me who drifted closer.
Why was I standing so near him? Anyone seeing us would think I was about to grab his collar.
Really, now.
Why would I grab Arden’s collar?
My mood was too good for that.
I stepped back naturally and absently reached over to stroke Debussy’s head where he nestled in Cassian’s arms.
“I see. You came alone. Ha ha ha.”
I hummed a little tune.
This time, Cassian’s expression darkened.
Alternating his gaze between me and Arden, Cassian turned to him with one corner of his mouth raised.
“Arden.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m delighted to meet you in this unexpected place, and I’d love to invite you to observe the trial together, but unfortunately that gentleman over there has been staring at you since earlier.”
“Where?”
“There.”
“I don’t see…”
“Lord Arden! How wonderful to see you!”
…The person who just shouted was Cassian.
The cry of “Lord Arden!” spread through the modest Salon in an instant, and all eyes turned toward us.
“Ugh!”
Arden gasped as if stabbed and vanished before he could even glare at Cassian.
“Why did you chase him off like that?”
I turned to face Cassian in disbelief.
Cassian smiled broadly at my gaze.
“I had something to discuss with you alone.”
“About what?”
“The Count Cameron hosting this Mock Trial today is a member of the Men of the Center.”
“Ah, one of those openly active members?”
“Exactly. That’s why I asked you to observe today.”
“I see.”
So that was it. I understood.
Then a servant standing at the inner entrance rang a bell with a soft chime.
“Esteemed Judge Cameron is entering. Everyone, please rise and show your respect to the bench.”
A middle-aged man in a judge’s robe and a long white wig that fell to his shoulders then appeared.
He was the man who’d been shouting in the Square earlier today.
“…Is that Count Cameron?”
“Yes.”
Cassian confirmed it.
“One of the rare families that’s maintained its title since the founding. Cameron is actually a judge at the Roar Central Court.”
“Oh. I don’t like judges.”
Judges, my apologies.
But you know what I mean, don’t you? They’re not likable?
“Ahem.”
Count Cameron, seated in the judge’s chair, cleared his throat.
Having filtered the crowd at the entrance so that only the respectably dressed remained, he surveyed the mock courtroom with evident satisfaction.
“I thank you all for attending this mock trial of the Magic Saint Seraphina, presided over by myself today. I trust that persons of sufficient discernment to attend this proceeding will not support the Magic Saint, but should any such individual exist here, I encourage you to observe this trial carefully and revise your opinion accordingly.”
The implication hung thick in the air: this trial’s verdict was already decided.
“I have a question,” I whispered to Cassian.
He leaned closer.
“How can someone so blinded by obstinacy serve as a judge? How can he possibly render a fair verdict based on evidence?”
Hasn’t he chosen the wrong profession? At my words, Cassian merely shrugged.
“Let’s see how this plays out.”
“Very well. We shall now commence the mock trial of this eccentric known as the Magic Saint Seraphina, who dares to disturb the social order of our nation.”
Bang! Count Cameron brought his judge’s gavel down with a sharp crack.
The trial had begun.
“She is extraordinarily disrespectful. She shows no proper reverence toward those of elevated station!”
“While I acknowledge that the nobility present at that ball may have acted somewhat rashly, surely engraving names upon the Imperial Palace is excessive! Must she deal such profound insult?”
“Quite right. She has made us nobles appear utterly foolish.”
“Disrespect toward the upper classes is equivalent to children failing to honor their parents. It is a grave corruption of the social order.”
…….
My assessment after observing this mock trial for roughly ten minutes: what on earth is the point of this?
Snore.
I envied Debussy, snoring away with abandon. I genuinely wanted to go home.
Stifling a yawn, I glanced toward the defendant’s seat—which was, unsurprisingly, empty.
‘Because I’m the one here.’
The real problem was that there wasn’t even a defense counsel to represent the Magic Saint in this trial.
Even the most serious criminal deserves the right to mount their own defense.
But not here.
Here, the prosecutor and even the supposedly neutral judge had joined forces to attack the Magic Saint one-sidedly.
‘This is a trial?’
This was nothing but a gathering of nobles with a grudge against the Magic Saint, engaged in psychological victory.
‘I understand the nobles harbor poor feelings toward the Magic Saint because of the Tram Mansion incident, the Plank Street fire, and the Everland Park incident.’
The nobles likely believed the Magic Saint was deliberately targeting them in succession, thereby stirring unrest among the commoners.
‘They’re probably tolerating it only because they suspect the Magic Saint is also of noble birth.’
Even so, this was utterly childish.
The reporters seated in the corner seemed to share my sentiment—their expressions were grim.
One particularly brave soul raised her hand and spoke out.
“I object!”
The prosecutor and judge, who had been going back and forth attacking the Magic Saint, fell abruptly silent.
They regarded her with displeasure and attempted a dismissive cough, but the reporter did not lower her hand.
She spoke.
“I believe the Magic Saint has recently gained the support of citizens precisely because she directly critiques the corrupt conduct of the noble class.”
Undaunted by their hostile glares, she continued.
“The poor neighborhoods burned, yet you nobles reveled at balls without care. Then you transformed Everland Park, built for all children, into a stage where commoner children served merely as supporting players. Did you not?”
“That’s right! Without the Magic Saint, we would have simply grumbled among ourselves and never even recognized it as a problem—we would have let it pass!”
“Because the Magic Saint raised her voice first, we were finally able to express our own opinions!”
“How refreshing it is that she spoke the very words I’ve been wanting to say!”
The courtroom erupted into tumult in an instant.
The young man playing the prosecutor attempted to restore order by speaking.
“That is precisely the problem—she stirred up matters that should have been left quiet, and now respect for the social leadership is….”
“So what you’re saying is, the problem is that she exposed your own wrongdoing!”
It was futile.
“Silence! Silence!”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Count Cameron in the judge’s chair brought his gavel down as if to shatter it.
“How dare you speak while the judge is addressing the court!”
“But—”
“Silence! Do you not understand the basic principles of a trial!”
He conducts a trial with neither defendant nor counsel present, and speaks of the basics of trials…….
Ladies and gentlemen, should you ever find yourselves detained, do request a lawyer.
The right to the assistance of counsel. A right guaranteed to every citizen of this empire by law.
“You there! What organization do you represent!”
An agitated Count Cameron pointed an accusatory finger at the reporter who had first spoken.
“No need to answer! Obviously you’re just some hack reporter from a failing third-rate rag!”
“…….”
“Did you even graduate from the academy? Do you know what law is?!”
“I’m certainly no match for you in matters of law, but regarding Justice, I—”
“That makes no sense!”
Count Cameron spat as he spoke.
“The law stands unequivocally on the side of the citizenry! So what does this Magic Saint think she’s doing? If someone suffers injustice, they report it to the proper court and await the law’s judgment! Why does the Magic Saint get to step in and accuse nobles and mete out punishment? That’s the question!”
What choice do they have? What choice?
The empire’s people aren’t fools—everyone knows private punishment is unjust.
They bear it as it is.
If they didn’t, the man should have been shot long ago. Just thinking of the names that spring to mind, there are dozens.
‘And yet’ the people champion the Magic Saint.
Everyone knows why—everyone but you, it seems.
Shouldn’t you reflect first, before you start lecturing others?
I wish I wasn’t needed in this society either!
“Count, then what of the victims of injustice who receive no protection under law—”
The reporter pressed on with steady resolve, but the Count would not yield.
He cut off the reporter’s words a second time, brandishing the Judge’s Gavel and roaring.
“If the law doesn’t protect them, then they were never victims to begin with!”
“…….”
“If we listened to every victim who whined about injustice, this nation would overflow with criminals! Do you want half the empire to be criminals?”
If half have committed crimes, then half should be criminals, shouldn’t they?
“If the sentence comes down light, the crime was light. We can’t indulge every victim’s sniveling, no matter how they wail!”
“…….”
“The finest minds in this realm—far sharper than any of you—examine evidence from every angle and render the most rational, logical verdict possible! Every judgment has its reasons!”
“…….”
“But then what, they say it’s unfair? That’s just throwing a tantrum!”
“…….”
Seraphina’s least favorite profession: Number One!
Judge.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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