Chapter 33
Without the City Guards stepping in, Garrett's fate would likely have been a toss into the dungeon, perhaps with a side of bamboo shoot stir-fry or some other combo meal.
As for when he might see the light of day again, it all depended on Captain Karen's clout and when she could convince the City Guards to bail him out.
Without the War God's temple intervening, Garrett's fate would probably involve some remote chamber and a barrage of interrogation from a priest. If he were lucky, Sir Roman might have a word or two with him.
Traditionally, among equals, spellcasters held a higher position than warriors. The High Priest of the Spring Goddess's temple could sit on par with Hartland City's Lord, while the City Guards were merely under the Lord's command. Even though Captain Nolan, a Level 7 Knight, matched the High Priest's rank, he did indeed fall short in status.
But now, the bald Bishop was smiling and strolling beside the High Priest. Regardless of rank or combat prowess, the leaders of different temples held ostensibly equal positions. The bald Bishop wanted to observe, so the High Priest reluctantly escorted them to the main hall, arranging seats while pinching his nose.
The High Priest stood tall on the pulpit, lower-ranked priests fanned out behind him. Knight Nolan settled on the right side of the main hall, and despite the bald Bishop's repeated attempts to decline, he sat among the audience in the believers' section. As for Garrett's position, a glance to his left and right revealed—oh boy, the defendant's seat.
The defendant's seat in a criminal trial.
Is this some kind of lack of respect? Can't I demand a defense attorney?
Unfortunately, no attorney. Knight Nolan took the defense's position, looking intimidating but with an unknown level of legal finesse.
I haven't committed any crime!
I really haven't! Garrett felt dismayed as Sir Roman, summoned from a side hall, was practically shooting fire from his eyes. Looking at Garrett, cool and collected, showing no signs of fear, made Sir Roman tremble, wanting to pounce on him and tear him apart:
"You! It's you! You're the one! My hand, my hand!"
Garrett was taken aback.
A day's absence, and Sir Roman seemed completely altered. His complexion was ashen, cheeks hollowed, and a scruffy beard had sprouted on his once chiseled jawline. His once neat short hair now looked lifeless, disheveled on top of his head. Garrett sighed inwardly.
This change was all too familiar to him. In the hospital of his past life, those who received dire diagnoses, their families upon hearing bad news, those who couldn't afford treatment for themselves or their loved ones...
In just one night, or sometimes within an hour or two, one's entire spirit could collapse.
Comparatively, Sir Roman still had some spirit left. However, even that spirit faded quickly: he glanced around, seeing Captain Nolan of the City Guards opposite him, and the Bishop of the War God's temple below, his expression shifted rapidly. Pain, resentment, disbelief—various emotions flashed through him, causing his whole body to tremble lightly.
After a moment's pause, he sat down slowly, inching his back into a slouch.
Garrett discreetly observed him. Upon closer inspection, Sir Roman's right thumb was as he'd seen it yesterday—unable to fully extend or bend. A seasoned medic could easily spot the unnatural form.
It seemed even high-level healing potions weren't a cure-all...
Garrett lowered his eyes slightly. The High Priest sighed at Sir Roman's appearance, turned his head, and nodded. Behind him, a Level 5 Priest stepped forward and spoke loudly:
"Garrett Nordmark?"
"That's me."
"Sir Roman accuses you of colluding with a necromancer, severely injuring him. What do you have to say?"
Garrett was surprised. He glanced at the Priest asking the question and then at Sir Roman, who seemed collapsed, as if his backbone had been extracted. Slowly, he opened his mouth:
"Brother, your credibility is that low?"
With the bigwigs present, and the interrogating Priest asking such questions, it's not about me facing death, it's about you!
After a moment of contemplation, Garrett remained calmly rooted in place. He lifted his gaze, facing the High Priest directly, and declared loudly:
"I didn't do it!"
"Garrett Nordmark!"
The Level 5 Priest, standing in for the High Priest, shouted sternly:
"Be honest! Sir Roman is a noble temple knight, would he falsely accuse you?"
What's so impressive about false accusations? Plenty of patients, after being discharged, lodge complaints against their doctors. Garrett rolled his eyes inwardly and calmly countered:
"What does Priest Donald say?"
"Priest Donald is in self-reflection.—Don't drag others, speak for yourself!"
Garrett sighed as he looked at Sir Roman. To have Priest Donald in self-reflection beforehand, it seemed Sir Roman had used some significant connections to retaliate against him—why bother? Why go through all this trouble when he was already done for? Why not use these connections to arrange the rest of his life?
Besides, if you're going to use connections, at least use them effectively! Look, in a crucial moment, someone's stabbed you in the back, haven't they?
His response was more casual:
"My team and I were on a routine patrol and were conscripted by the temple guards to join a search operation. Last night, after going to bed, temple guards found skeleton soldiers. We assembled and stormed the castle basement.
After Sir Roman defeated the stone gargoyle and was about to open the inner door, the necromancer appeared and incapacitated everyone present—including me."
Garrett paused, shrugging.
When I went down, the necromancer hadn't appeared yet; by the time the necromancer showed up, I was already incapacitated.
Accusing me of collusion? I would've needed time to collude, wouldn't I?
He glanced around, the High Priest stroked his beard, nodding in silence. Captain Nolan gave him a faint smile, a gesture of encouragement, as if saying, "Don't be afraid, no one can falsely accuse you." As for the Bishop...
He couldn't see the bald Bishop's face, but he could hear his voice. Still as resonant as ever, filling the entire hall:
"I've heard both sides from John. Oh, John is a newly-appointed apprentice priest who also participated in this search. What Garrett said matches his report from this afternoon."
Garrett heaved a long sigh.
Thanks, Your Grace!
Thanks for supporting me and proving my innocence!
Thanks to John for reporting promptly!
With the War God's temple backing me, my statement's credibility has shot up. No more fear of them nitpicking my words!
Hmm, the field emergency treatment class I left hanging last night—I'll write a full text for you later!
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