Damn.
Ash stared blankly at the red chains binding him.
It wasn't just about escaping the chains—the wind blades swirling above weren't exactly there to cool him down.
Right now, they were focusing solely on Valcas, the one brave (or foolish) enough to stand against the tide. But if Ash stopped playing the "harmless sinner," who's to say those blades wouldn't come for the easier target?
And it's not like he could actually escape the chains in the first place.
This is it. I'm done for.
Maybe I should shout for help? Ash thought bitterly. Not that the Swordmaiden would do anything besides spectate...
As he considered the futility of it all and mentally prepared his final will, Ash suddenly felt himself move.
No, it wasn't him moving—it was the ground beneath him.
He glanced down to see the floor beneath him animate, carrying him toward the platform's edge. The chains didn't resist at all—they were rooted to the ground, and when the ground moved, the chains naturally followed.
What the...? Did the Earth itself decide to save me because I'm such a kind, environmentally conscious soul?
His brief delusion was shattered when he spotted Harvey off to the side, manipulating the earth with his summoned spirit.
Ash blinked.
"...You're saving me?"
"Shut up," Harvey hissed through gritted teeth. "If you want to die, come to me later. I'm an expert at it. I even provide aftercare. All I ask is that you leave me your spirit as payment."
"...I was this close to forgiving your necrophilic tendencies..."
"What did you just say?"
"Wait, why do you have an earth spirit? Aren't you a necromancer?"
"Do you think bodies bury themselves? Modern burial methods include earth burial, cremation, and water burial. Any decent necromancer has to master earth, fire, and water spirits. How else would we work?"
Oh.
Ash realized he'd severely underestimated the job description of necromancers. He'd thought corpse disposal was just a side hustle for them, but apparently, it was their primary occupation.
CLANG!
Valcas drove his sword into the ground, summoning a yellow energy barrier that surrounded him, shielding him from the relentless wind blades.
"Miracle: Sword Barrier," Nagou's voice praised over the live feed. "A remarkable defensive technique. Yet... it will only buy Mr. Uhl a few moments of respite. Such futile resistance, how laborious, how pitiful... But rest assured, the Titan Executioner will soon relieve him of his suffering. Oh?"
Valcas stood firm against the approaching Titan Executioner, his stance unwavering, his eyes filled with determination.
Instead of retreating, the elf raised his blade, summoning multiple spirits. His body radiated brilliance as his sword hummed with energy. A chilling melody filled the air, a symphony of war and death.
"If my instincts are correct," Nagou said, his voice tinged with excitement, "Mr. Uhl is preparing to unleash his newly developed technique—The Merciless Finale."
Nagou's tone rose. "Nine years ago, Mr. Uhl published a report on this very technique. At the time, its overly complex casting steps made it impractical for combat use. But now, after nearly a decade of refinement, he dares to wield it against judgment itself!"
An elven sword dance. A grim symphony. Defiance in the face of the divine.
Watching the solitary figure stand against the Titan Executioner, Ash couldn't help but ask Harvey, "Why him?"
"Hm?"
"Why does he have 50% of the votes? By all logic, shouldn't I be the one topping the redemption charts? My crimes are worse. My exposure is higher. Why him? What did he do to provoke this much hatred?"
Harvey shot Ash a sidelong glance.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Obvious?" Ash frowned. "His criminal record is mediocre at best. Compared to you, it's nothing."
"It's not the crimes on his record," Harvey said quietly.
"Then what?"
"His looks. His bloodline. His birth."
Ash blinked.
"He's an elf. That's his greatest sin."
Harvey continued, his voice calm but weighted. "In appearance, strength, intellect, and lifespan, elves surpass every other race. Their rarity only strengthens their solidarity—elves band together to protect their own. And with their superior intellect, they have the means to do so."
"Elves are almost always adopted by the best orphanages, groomed to be the 'stewards of society.' They dominate management positions, and their long lifespans, combined with their perfect appearances and vast knowledge, make them virtually unbeatable in competition."
"Everyone knows that while management and employees are technically equal, the reality is far from it."
"Anyone who's ever worked knows the frustration of a brutish ogre coworker, a lazy goblin colleague, a sloppy orc team member—and a nitpicky elven boss."
"In the history of Kaiman City's Blood Moon Trials, no elf has ever stood accused—because they rarely need to commit crimes, and when they do, their kin protect them. Their blood ties form a network of mutual cover-ups that other races can only envy."
"Goblins are shortsighted. Orcs are dim-witted. Ogres are cunning. Humans are selfish. But in the presence of elves, all we feel is... inadequacy."
Harvey's voice softened. "Even I cast my vote for Valcas."
"...Why?" Ash asked, stunned.
"Because for most people," Harvey murmured, "this is the only chance they'll ever get to trample an elf."
Ash turned his gaze back to the Titan Executioner. This time, it didn't look like a grotesque monster. Instead, it seemed to embody something else: seething resentment, born of countless ordinary lives crushed under the weight of societal hierarchy.
Though Ash hadn't met many "ordinary people"—the prison was filled with guards and death row inmates—he suddenly understood their thoughts.
It was the despair birthed in a world of unyielding order, the fury of staring at an insurmountable chasm.
In the Blood Moon Nation, where collective upbringing divided children by potential from birth, society was stratified into grades and ranks.
The gifted rose to the top, nurtured in prestigious orphanages like the elves. The less fortunate were relegated to hard labor or crime.
The average person had no right to complain.
In a system where worth was defined solely by ability, the higher-ups weren't just in charge—they were better.
They deserved their position.
Why? Because they'd been sorted fairly. Because their talent allowed them to build on what they were given, to climb higher, to stay there.
In such a society, class rebellion wasn't just rare—it was impossible.
And so, Ash finally understood the true purpose of the Blood Moon Trials:
1.Breaking the law will ruin you.
2.Even the elite can fall.
3.And you, the average citizen, are the lucky one.
Ash was a sacrifice. Harvey was a sacrifice. The death row inmates were all sacrifices. But Valcas? He was the ultimate sacrifice.
Just as the Titan Executioner prepared to strike, Valcas turned his head, casting Ash a fleeting glance.
Ash froze.
What the hell are you looking at me for?
The other inmates immediately scrambled away, leaving Ash isolated. Even Harvey fled, carrying himself off on a chunk of earth.
Ash's stomach dropped.
Damn. Don't tell me Valcas is planning to drag me down with him!