The audience chamber of Arondain Castle was suffocatingly silent.

At the far end of the hall, King Valerius sat upon the royal throne, his expression unreadable beneath the dim golden light pouring through the towering stained-glass windows.

Beside him stood Reginald and the prime minister, Chrome — the king’s most trusted advisor.

Rows upon rows of nobles filled the chamber.

Their eyes were all fixed upon one person.

Azrael.

I stood quietly at the center of the hall.

Beside me stood Luna ,  Kael, and Ren .

The tension inside the chamber was suffocating.

Then—

Marquis Gregor stepped forward.

“Your Majesty,” he began, his voice echoing through the hall, “this servant used forbidden power during the duel.”

His cold gaze landed directly on me.

“How else could an untrained boy possibly defeat my nephew — a recognized prodigy of this kingdom?”

Immediately, several nobles from Gregor’s faction voiced their agreement.

“Indeed!”

“It makes no sense!”

“No servant should possess such power!”

Uneasy murmurs spread throughout the chamber.

Then Luna stepped forward.

The nobles instantly quieted.

Her blue eyes were cold.

Sharp.

“Unfair?”

Her voice cut cleanly through the audience hall.

“Your nephew possessed every advantage possible.”

“Training.”

“Experience.”

“Superior magic.”

“Even a shield.”

She took another step forward.

“And yet the moment Az fought back, you suddenly call the duel unfair?”

Several nobles visibly shifted beneath her gaze.

Luna slowly swept her eyes across Gregor’s faction.

“Or is this simply because you cannot accept that your so-called prodigy was humiliated before the entire royal court?”

Gregor’s expression darkened immediately.

“Princess,” he replied carefully, “you are allowing your emotions to cloud your judgment.”

His eyes narrowed.

“That strange violet power—”

“Is Soul Art.”

The interruption came from Ren.

The chamber immediately fell silent.

Ren stepped forward casually with folded arms.

“A lost technique once wielded by the Dragoons during the Aion War.”

A wave of murmurs instantly swept across the nobles.

Some frowned in confusion.

Others looked skeptical.

Count Mark slowly rose from his seat.

“Soul Art?”

He stared at Ren.

“Do you truly expect this court to believe fairy tales told to children?”

Ren’s emerald eyes sharpened.

“This is not a fairy tale.”

“It is history.”

“The Dragoons used Soul Art to kill demons and angels during the Aion War.”

The atmosphere grew heavier.

Then Gregor let out a cold sneer.

“How convenient.”

“A power unseen for over four thousand years suddenly appears within a commoner?”

His gaze shifted toward me.

“To me…”

“It looked far more like black magic.”

The chamber erupted into whispers once more.

“Black magic…”

“Violet energy…”

“Could it truly be forbidden power?”

Luna’s hands clenched tightly at her sides.

A faint violet shimmer flickered within her blue eyes before fading again.

“You speak as though your nephew were innocent,” Luna said coldly.

“But everyone in this chamber witnessed what truly happened.”

Her gaze hardened.

“Even though Valen could have ended the duel immediately, he chose to toy with Az instead.”

“He humiliated him.”

“Tortured him.”

“And nearly killed him in front of the entire court.”

Gregor’s expression twisted slightly.

“My nephew was merely teaching a servant his place.”

His voice became colder.

“How dare a commoner lay hands upon a noble?”

Then his eyes slowly turned toward Luna.

“…Though perhaps that is unsurprising.”

A dangerous silence filled the chamber.

“It seems,” Gregor continued carefully, “that even the princess herself is being influenced by him.”

The temperature inside the hall seemed to drop instantly.

Kael’s expression hardened.

Ren’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Even the neutral nobles looked shocked by the accusation.

Then Luna stepped forward.

For the first time since entering the chamber, her royal composure cracked completely.

“How dare you say that?”

Her voice echoed sharply throughout the hall.

A cold pressure spread across the audience chamber.

“I am the daughter of Saintess Claris, The deceased queen of this kingdom.”

Her blue eyes burned with fury.

“And you dare imply that I cannot think for myself?”

The nobles fell silent.

Even Gregor momentarily froze beneath her gaze.

Then—

A calm yet authoritative voice suddenly rose from the side of the chamber.

“Then allow me to testify.”

The entire audience hall turned toward the source of the voice.