Chapter 1379: Chapter 95: Rebuilding the Nation (22)

Sanel Caroy’s face was a livid purple, his teeth gnashing with a crunching sound.

Skul’s questioning left him unable to respond. Even if he could find some excuses for exoneration, his words would be drowned out by the scolding voices coming from all directions, unable to stir up any waves.

Moreover, from start to finish, the former government military officer never had the slightest intention of defending himself.

“No one can judge me!”

Sanel roared like thunder, knocking over the railing, fiercely lunging toward his old classmate and enemy sitting high on the judge’s bench, but was firmly pulled back by shackles and chains, unable to move.

Like a beast in its death throes, overwhelming resentment and fury burst from Sanel’s eyes as he hysterically shouted, “No one!”

The gendarmes responsible for maintaining order in the trial quickly encircled him from the left and right, trying to subdue the out-of-control defendant.

However, even with two strong gendarmes working together, they could not easily bring him under control.

Colonel Gaisa, sitting in the front row of the Mont Blanc County section, saw this and made a discreet gesture.

A one-eyed gendarme officer immediately entered the courtroom, striding quickly to Sanel Caroy’s side.

“No offense, Colonel.” The one-eyed officer nodded respectfully, using his body to block the view from the seating area, and delivered a concealed punch, fast, precise, and fierce, to Sanel’s upper abdomen.

The former government Colonel instantly lost the ability to make a sound, the blood rushing to his head, turning his face an unhealthy shade of flush. His upper body instinctively curled up from the intense pain.

Most of the freemen had not noticed the one-eyed officer’s action, only seeing the crazed Red Rose lackey suddenly quiet down.

A few freemen, even if they sensed something, chose to applaud the officer’s decisive blow.

Having handled the unexpected situation appropriately, the one-eyed officer helped the “calmed” Colonel Sanel back to the trial bench, then stood with two gendarmes close behind the bench, to prevent further madness from the defendant.

Colonel Skul struck the gavel, returning the grand council hall to silence.

“Sanel Caroy,” Colonel Skul asked coldly as ice, “do you have any objections to the crimes I’ve stated?”

“Crimes?” Sanel gasped for breath, clearly not yet recovered from the blow moments ago.

Even so, upon hearing Skul Meklen’s words, he could not help but laugh wildly: “The only crime I’ve committed is losing the battle—that is my crime!”

“Recorder, note.” Colonel Skul was as merciless as stone: “The defendant has no objections to the indictment.”

“Enough!” Sanel could no longer bear it, once again crashing into the railing, shouting wildly: “I lost the battle! Victory to the king or death to the defeated, I’ve nothing to say! Want my life? Give me a sword, I’ll do it myself! But—but don’t fuck with me with this circus act!”

He stared at his contemporary on the judge’s bench, gritting his teeth and pleading: “Skul Meklen, if you have even the slightest bit of camaraderie left, give me a quick death!”

The one-eyed officer immediately led his subordinates forward, only to be waved off by Colonel Skul.

“On the battlefield, I wouldn’t show mercy to you, just as you wouldn’t to me.” Colonel Skul replied in a deep voice, “But this is not the battlefield; this is a courtroom. I have no authority to grant you life, nor to pronounce your death.”

A ripple of pity appeared in the deep black eyes of Colonel Skul, but only that: “Sanel Caroy, from the beginning, I’ve told you, your fate will be decided by all the freemen present.”

“To hell with you! Skul! To hell with you!” Sanel fumed with rage, lunging once more at the judge’s bench, pulling the heavy chains almost into a baton in mid-air: “Why not just kill me? Why humiliate me?!”

Colonel Skul tapped the gavel, the one-eyed officer immediately understanding, subduing Sanel once again.

“Decide my fate? They’re worthy?” Sanel’s arms were twisted behind him, still struggling desperately.

He glared furiously at the bystanders who were pretending to be powerful: “You! You bunch of accomplices to the New Reclamation Legion! Lackeys! Slaves! Livestock! Are you worthy to judge me?! None of you have the right to judge me! No one!! No one!!!”

In response to Sanel was a voice full of righteous indignation: “Hang him!”

“Hang him!!” More and more freemen joined in: “Hang him!!”

“Hang him!!!” Nearly all the freemen in the grand council hall shouted in unison: “Hang him!!!”

Colonel Skul stood up, picked up the gavel, and slammed it heavily into the base. Each strike was more forceful than the last, until the final strike even made a sound like metal.

“Order!” Skul Meklen yelled with furrowed brows and a fierce voice.

Just like the first ray of sunlight piercing dawn, the grand council hall instantly quieted down.

Colonel Skul tapped the gavel once more, loudly announcing: “The court investigation has concluded, remove the defendant.”

The one-eyed officer and the gendarmes saluted, then escorted Sanel Caroy out of the grand council hall.

The freemen in the tiered seating looked at each other in confusion, not knowing what to do.

…

In the Iron Peak County Seating Area, the “Fatty” Nandor was also puzzled.

“What’s going on? Why are they taking him away?” Nandor asked in a hushed tone to the old Dusack beside him, bewildered. “Could it be over just like that? No judgment?”

Gerard furrowed his brow tightly, shaking his head, indicating he was equally clueless about what had just happened.

“Damn.” Nandor muttered in extreme disappointment, “After all this, the official from Mont Blanc County turned out to be just like a rooster’s first droppings — hard-headed. Truly no match for Lord Blood Wolf.”

Gerard stole a doubtful glance at the person beside him but eventually held back from asking, “What do you think of Winters Montagne?”

…

From the judge’s bench, Colonel Skur Meklen surveyed the whispering freemen with authority and struck the gavel once more, ordering sternly, “Bring in the second group of defendants!”

…

“What? There’s a ‘second group’?” Nandor exclaimed in shock, “Who else is on trial?”

Gerard fixed his eyes on the main entrance of the Grand Hall and squeezed out the words through pursed lips: “I don’t know — but surely not some small fry.”

…

Amidst the eager anticipation of the New Reclamation freemen, the second group of defendants was escorted into the Grand Hall by military police.

There were two of them in total, one in front of the other.

The one in front was tall, with a dignified demeanor, bushy eyebrows, and tiger eyes, exuding authority without anger.

The one following was thin, with a haggard appearance. Though he seemed slightly younger than the one in front, the white at his temples was no less than that of the former.

Both wore officer uniforms, only the embellishments and embroidery details on the cuffs differed slightly.

Only those familiar with Alliance military affairs could discern from the subtle differences in the uniforms that one was a colonel, and the other a major.

However, most of the New Reclamation freemen did not possess such insight and only saw that two more officers were brought into the Grand Hall.

In Kingsfort, officers might not be considered significant figures.

But in the Province of Newly Reclaimed Lands, officers were well-known as “lords,” “blue skies,” and “rulers” in all counties.

Yet concerning these two officers before them, freemen from any county found them exceedingly unfamiliar.

“Defendants,” Colonel Skool’s voice projected from the judge’s bench, “state your identities.”

The two officers brought into the Grand Hall exchanged glances. The tall, older officer stepped forward half a step and, with composure, said, “We do not acknowledge the legality of this trial, but we can inform you of our identities.”

“Commander of the Sixth Legion, Army Colonel.” The tall, older officer lifted his head to survey the freemen: “Nagy Modachi.”

Upon hearing “Commander of the Sixth Legion,” any freemen who understood the significance of that position couldn’t help but gasp.

The Battle of Wailing Valley still harbors substantial undisclosed information to this day.

The freemen only knew it as a crushing victory that destroyed three legions of Kingsfort’s Grand Parliament–a narrative heavily promoted by the Alliance which many New Reclamation people are skeptical about–but were unaware that even officers at the level of “Standing Army Legion Commander” were captured by the Four Counties Allied Forces.

After the tall officer finished speaking, the thin officer also stepped forward.

“Army Major.” The thin officer’s parched lips moved as he dejectedly introduced himself: “Alder Felter.”

Freemen from other counties whispered among themselves–Alder Felter? Never heard of him?

Only the freemen from Maplestone City realized the truth.

“You were not precise enough, Major Felter.” Colonel Skool pointed out bluntly: “You are not just any ‘Army Major,’ you are ‘Provincial Army Major, Alder Felter!’ ”

Colonel Skool stood up, looking sternly down at Major Felter, his voice booming throughout the Grand Hall: “You are not an officer of the Parlatu Army! You are an officer of the Provincial Army — you are a United Provincial!”

The New Reclamation freemen erupted in tumult.