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Chapter 19 - True Resolution

Cornelius Varice was not a man one would expect to be in the Triparte Legions, the official military force of the Triparte Kingdoms. He did not possess the bulging muscular frame that a warrior might carry, nor did he possess an all-encompassing sheet of metallic armour shielding him from every direction.

He was just a young man with short brown hair and dark eyes. Had it not been for the scar over his left eye, two sheathed short blades on his hips and his uniform, one would mistake him to be a simple low-class worker. He was dressed in the official, but rarely-seen uniform of the commanders of the legions. Where a legionnaire might see a tunic, some leggings or pants and shoes, Cornelius wore a clean black shirt tucked into black pants and black leather boots, as well as a black overcoat highlighted with scarlet red.

The intimidation, the magnificence and the cut-throat ruthlessness and efficiency of the well-trained, well-disciplined Triparte Legions shined through even without the light reflecting off of a metal breastplate. The shining colour of bright fresh blood draped over the dark was enough to scare off most who were unfortunate enough to see it.

"Sir Varice," he nodded. "Please, take a seat. Tea and snacks have been prepared for your leisure."

But it wasn't enough to even slightly dent Travis' immovable demeanour.

"Good to see you, Administrator Vorn," Cornelius nodded at him.

With that, pleasantries were dispensed with. The two sat in silence for a while, before a few quick knocks resounded and Alex scampered in distressfully. Upon seeing Cornelius, he froze, before Travis nodded him to continue.

"Sir - Master Vorn, sir - the legionnaires-"

"-Sir!"

Roughly, Jerald Outre was escorted by the arm by two legionnaires, fully decked out in metal-plated armour. They held Jerald up a few feet off the ground, visors betraying no hint of emotion as they marched into the office in unison.

Jerald thrashed, trying to wrestle back control of his body, but seeing his struggles amount to nothing, he turned to Travis, almost manic anxiety in his eyes. "Sir! Please! They're accusing me of grooming!"

"What?" Travis' eyebrows shot up, and he turned to Cornelius. "What is the meaning of this? I have received no such information."

His lack of intonation hit heavier than any blunt weapon. The soldiers thanked their helmets for hiding their indignation at such noncommittal tones from the Guild Master.

"An anonymous tip came in, with evidence. It has yet to be verified, coming in only yesterday, but we believe it prudent to take immediate action. In case he is a flight risk," Cornelius turned over his shoulder, coldly glancing at Jerald before turning back. "Rest assured, if he turns out to be innocent, he will be released without issue. If not… well, the reputation of you and your guilds will be untouched regardless."

"Sir, I swear to you on my father's life, I have done no such thing! It's that girl! That blasted commoner! She lied to them, I know it! She means to spite me!"

"Calm yourself, Jerald," Travis advised. "Anything you say may be used against you in court. I suggest you cooperate. The Legions have carved a very good reputation for themselves. If this turns out to be fake, the scheme will be discovered and you will be free. Cooperate with them, and it will be noted. If you deliberately provoke them, it will not end well for you."

"You cannot believe them!" Jerald protested.

"I take no sides," he assured him. "Had the situation been in my hands, I would leave you free as I investigate. As it stands, however, I cannot obstruct their investigation. Rest assured, if you are innocent, you will not be tried."

"But I cannot leave! My pupils-"

"-I will arrange for them to be trained under another mentor. They will be fine."

"But I-I'm innocent! I haven't done anything!"

"You will have a place here, once you return."

"That's enough," Cornelius stood. "For the record, Master Vorn. Your employee, Departmental Mentor Jerald Outre, has been accused by an anonymous individual of grooming, a crime under the Royal Judicial Decree 13, section 9 of harassment and abuse of Triparte citizens."

He turned to his legionnaires. "Take him away."