Chapter 33: I've Become a Fall Guy (Please Read On)

"The situation… is looking a bit dicey."

Stared down by the crowd's scrutinizing gazes, Herbert felt his back tighten slightly, and pressed his lips together.

Suspicion, conjecture, even outright hostility… he bore all this malice from others alone.

As for being looked at with hostility right now, Herbert could actually understand their behavior — purely from a rational standpoint.

As a newcomer who had only arrived a little over a month ago and had not yet fully integrated himself into the Mist Monastery, Herbert was an outsider in everyone else's eyes.

And a kingdom nobleman of very dubious identity at that — a reclusive fellow who had no contact with anyone else.

So then, with a murder case having occurred, who currently carries the greatest suspicion among the crowd?

Hey, it's really me!

Therefore, Herbert understood their suspicion and hostility toward him.

But… that was all it was — mere understanding.

Emotionally, Herbert could not accept the unfair position of being treated as a suspect.

Because he hadn't done it.

I didn't do it — why should I be treated like this?

On what grounds?

Besides, it was precisely because of a wrongful imprisonment that he had been forced to come here.

He'd already had one go-round — did he really need a second?

Furthermore, although Herbert was well aware of the importance of cooperating with the investigation, he could not be so naive as to trust the others.

Back in the kingdom, never mind — though he'd been wrongfully jailed, no one dared use torture on him.

But here?

The Great Memory Restoration Technique isn't only a thing from a past life; extracting confessions through torture has always been a time-honored tradition the world over.

What good people could there possibly be in the Tribunal!

Would these angry inquisitors really care about his noble status?

No.

These fellows would rather kill the wrong person than let one go, and at most they'd provide the highest-grade restorative healing afterward — but what damn good is that!

Just because something can be restored to its original state doesn't mean the suffering endured can be easily brushed aside.

Wounds may eventually heal, but the scars they leave never fully disappear.

Some university student who'd originally just wanted to fall in love got tortured into a white-haired wreck, and his whole personality changed.

He's already white-haired now, so there's no need to deliberately go through that himself.

Therefore, Herbert absolutely could not show weakness at this moment, let alone take the initiative to cooperate with the investigation!

Having made up his mind, Herbert's expression shifted slightly, and he gave a soft snort.

"Heh."

His face was calm as still water, his gaze turned disdainful, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly, meeting the crowd's stares with a posture that was neither servile nor overbearing.

But Herbert did not take the initiative to question them.

He was waiting.

He knew that at this moment he didn't need to act first — someone would surely be unable to hold back any longer and come at him, the "suspect."

Sure enough.

He didn't have to wait long before an angry voice shattered the silence of the great hall.

"What are you all still waiting for!?"

A tall, bald-headed nun stepped out from the crowd, glaring at Herbert, her right hand clenched in a death grip, and said through gritted teeth: "Why don't you seize this murderer!"

Everyone's gaze fell upon her; some clearly had the impulse to act, but stopped themselves upon seeing that the middle-aged Penitent Sister had not moved.

The middle-aged Penitent Sister did not immediately heed the bald nun's urging and move against Herbert, but instead asked slowly: "Why do you think he's the murderer? I don't believe his strength is enough to harm Frank."

Hearing these words, a few cultivators' brows furrowed slightly.

Right — based on his strength alone… it really didn't seem sufficient.

"Because he's the Defiler!"

The bald nun, however, remained steadfast in her conviction, and said as if staking everything: "That day, I saw him walk out of the kitchen! He must have done something to those grass carp!"

Grass carp?

Herbert blinked, feeling the trajectory of events was starting to go a bit off.

Wait — don't tell me I've become a fall guy!?

Kid, I really didn't do it!

Not giving Herbert any time to explain, another cultivator's expression changed upon hearing "grass carp," and after a moment's hesitation he also raised his hand and said slowly:

"Um, I also once discovered traces of desecration by the Well of Mourning, and that day… he had also passed by there."

Both of them had vaguely noticed some traces of desecration, but because they hadn't found conclusive evidence of the perpetrator, they worried about alerting the culprit and had held their tongues, not telling the others.

And as luck would have it — on each of those occasions, Herbert had an alibi placing him at the scene.

Oh no.

This was going to be hard to explain.

Just as Herbert was about to open his mouth to explain, his pupils suddenly contracted.

A massive wave of malice surged toward him, even fiercer than before!

Once the title "Defiler" rang out, the cultivators, who had shown signs of calming down, tore off their surface pretense in an instant, baring bloodstained, savage fangs.

Countless chilling gazes fell upon him from every corner of the great hall, as if at any moment they would rush out to judge and purify him.

Just as Herbert had judged from the very beginning, the ascetics had no qualms whatsoever about slaying a potential heretic.

Even if the one who had lived and eaten with them for a full month, and could call them by name, was the same.

Heretic, execute on sight.

The priority of eliminating heretics even surpasses hunting down the murderer!

"…"

The swelling tide of malice nearly swallowed Herbert, and one misstep would plunge him utterly into the abyss, yet at this moment he was unexpectedly calm.

After calming down, he even felt like laughing.

Herbert made no reaction, silently scanning the surroundings, meeting the monks' gazes with calmness.

Some met his gaze, but most instinctively looked away.

"Hah."

After surveying them all, he turned to the lead disciplinary cultivator and noticed her expression had remained perfectly calm.

The disciplinary nun, seeing him look at her, asked calmly: "Herbert, do you have anything to explain?"

Herbert nodded, then shook his head.

He did not explain anything to the disciplinary nun, but turned to the two monks who had "reported" him, and asked slowly in an utterly calm tone:

"Sister Ivanka, Brother Jeffs, may I take it that what you just said… is questioning my purity?"

Explain?

Explain what?

【Principle One of Cross-Examination: Do not attempt to prove yourself; do not be drawn into their rhythm.】

Before they could answer, Herbert untied the bandages on his left hand and raised his left hand, its blood still not fully dried, high into the air.

The next instant.

Brilliant Jin Guang erupted from his back, the radiant Sacred Mark piercing everyone's eyes like a holy sword.

That was—the Pure Sacred Mark!?

Only then did some monks realize what oath Herbert had sworn.

Oath of Purity.

If Herbert were a desecrator, then what was this genuine Sacred Mark?

Surely not an illusion?

Amid the uproar, everyone heard Herbert's second question.

He said:

"So, are you questioning the deity who granted me this blessing?"

【Principle Two of Cross-Examination: Only attack, never defend—unrivaled under heaven!】

Thank you to Ztyzyy's reward, thank you, boss~

……

Today is Xiao Ba, rising early to update, working hard!

Everyone, please support with follows, recommendation votes, monthly votes—I'm just one step away from the New Book Overall Ranking, please!

【blank】

【blank】

(End of Chapter)