Extra's Descent
Chapter 392: Sanctum of Trials [2]

Brandon arrived outside the Sanctum of Trials.

The moment he neared the entrance, a familiar figure approached him.

"Brandon."

It was Vanessa Grace.

Evelyn's best–friend.

Brandon paused, and so did the two guards behind him.

He turned around, meeting Vanessa's gaze. Just like him, she too looked exhausted. Her eyes were puffy, and her entire appearance seemed bloated.

Vanessa's voice trembled, but her eyes softened as she spoke.

"I believe you. You're the last person in the world who would kill Evelyn."

"...."

"I know how much she meant to you,"

Vanessa continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Whatever happened…. it wasn't your fault. I refuse to believe it."

Brandon stared at her blankly before he turned around, the weight of her words hanging in the air. He didn't want her to see the brief flicker of emotion in his eyes.

"You don't know everything, Vanessa."

"Then tell me."

She pleaded, stepping closer.

"Help me understand."

Brandon remained silent for a brief second before nodding.

"Watch the broadcast."

With that, the guards urged him forward, and he moved without another word, leaving Vanessa standing there.

***

"Explain yourself, Locke."

The Elder urged him. A stunning woman, with silver hair, and striking purple eyes.

Despite the fact that they had lived for a long time, and that they were referred to as Elders, they had all maintained a youthful appearance, thanks to mana.

Brandon felt the eyes of everyone present.

No, not just everyone present.

The entire world.

The entire world was watching his trial. He was well aware of the broadcast system the Sanctum of Trials had.

Under normal circumstances, regular cases would be taken to a regular court.

But this was the murder of a high profile–mage. But still, this had only been qualified as a case worthy of being conducted under the Sanctum of Trials because….

'They've figured everything out.'

Because of the variables known as Wraiths.

But Brandon was unsure if they would keep things under close–wraps or not.

'Did they know from the beginning?'

This was a stage set–up just for him.

And Brandon decided to take the opportunity, standing up, his ink–black eyes staring at the Twelve Elders indifferently, an act not even the Imperial Army would ever think of doing.

Brandon stared at the broadcasting device hovering at the side.

"Evelyn Cessna was turning into a Wraith."

He had to let them know.

Because the Twelve Elders had kept the information confidential.

His words hung in the air, reverberating through the room, causing a ripple of shock among the Twelve Elders and the audience.

Murmurs started to spread across the room like wildfire.

One of the Elders, a man with brown hair leaned forward.

"You speak of Wraiths as if this is common knowledge, Locke. Yet we have no solid proof."

Brandon didn't flinch. He had expected this.

"That's because you've kept the truth hidden from everyone. From citizens of Holy Britannia. Even silencing the Imperial Army, in fear of igniting a mass panic amongst the people. But no more. I'm done keeping your secrets."

The murmurs grew louder, gasps filled the air.

This was all being broadcasted live. He could see the staff starting to reach out for the broadcasting systems, trying to disable them.

However, it was then.

Clank—!

The mana shackles unlocked, and fell on the ground, a metallic clank echoing.

Brandon extended his hand forward, and threads escaped from his fingertip, recoiling the staffs' hands back.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Brandon glared, his voice monotonous.

The Elders glared at him, trying to assert their dominance, but Brandon wasn't intimidated.

His eyes bore into the brown–haired man who had spoken earlier.

"I'm done letting you hide the truth from the world."

"Enough, Locke. You are already condemned. Don't dig yourself deeper!"

Brandon took a step forward, ignoring the guards who hesitated to move against him.

"Condemned? You think I'm worried about what you think? I'm already a dead man walking in your eyes. But I'm not here to save myself, you've figured everything out with the autopsy, haven't you? And you plan on silencing me further."

Brandon's eyes narrowed.

"Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting."

Then, he stared at the broadcasting system. It was too late, and the Elders couldn't disable them anymore.

The entire world had already heard Brandon's voice.

If they were to stop the broadcast, it would only support his statements.

"You want to know why they performed a Runic Cadaver Analysis on Evelyn Cessna? It's because they needed answers. They know there's more to her death than just murder."

Brandon's voice deepened with intensity, daring anyone to challenge his claims.

The Elders shifted One of them, a black-haired man, stood and spoke with strained authority.

"You were detained because you are the prime suspect. You speak of Wraiths, but you provide no evidence!"

Brandon's lips curled into a bitter smile.

"You want evidence? You've had it the whole time. Evelyn didn't just die—she was turning into a Wraith. I've said it the first time, I don't plan on retracting my words."

Gasps rippled through the room once again, the audience barely able to contain their shock.

"Wraith Seeds."

Just two words.

And those words immediately settled the Twelve Elders, their faces contorting, and their eyes widening.

"A dark force that infects the mana cores, corrupting them from the inside, slowly turning them into Wraiths. And it's already here. Evelyn was just the latest victim. And you, the Twelve Elders, knew this."

He pointed at Twelve Elders. Or rather—Eleven Elders.

Brandon briefly glanced back, then returned his gaze.

"You kept the existence of Wraith Seeds hidden from the world."

Brandon said, stepping closer to the center of the room. His ink-black eyes locked onto the Elders.

"You let innocent people die to maintain control. To avoid panic. You've sacrificed the very people you're supposed to protect. Possession? Sweet whispers in their ear? Even the textbooks have been manipulated."

Brandon turned around, staring at the audience.

"If Wraith encounters are rare, then someone tell me. Why do we have textbook knowledge of them? Why do we know what they look like, knowing how powerful they are? How were the record holders able to survive the encounter?"

Murmurs spread once again.

"You speak in riddles, Locke. There is no proof of such claims—"

"Let me tell you one more thing."

Brandon quickly interrupted the Elder before he finished the sentence.

"It's up to all of you if you choose to believe in my words or not. But a year ago, back when Astrea Academy was still in operation. I've encountered a Wraith myself, bound by mana shackles under Astrea Venue's. The basement."

—What?

—Is that true?

—A Wraith was hiding under Astrea?

"And as you all know, Astrea Academy's Headmaster, the late Rodd Astrea was a member of the Elders."

"You're playing with fire, Locke. All these statements, yet no solid evidence."

"You want evidence? You think my words are hollow?"

Brandon's voice boomed with a sharp edge.

For a third party, it looked as if Brandon had pulled something out of thin air, but peering into his inventory, he lifted it on display for the Twelve Elders to see.

"Familiar?"

The sheer act incited a reaction out of the Elders, a reaction even the audience had noticed.

"You…."

"That's right." Your journey continues on M V L

Brandon donned it. The moment he did, his voice distorted.

"The Mirage Mask."