Sssssss.
In response to Andralier's accusations, Fainanshe laughed. Not a quiet chuckle, but a full-blown, unrestrained laugh, loud and mocking, as if he held no regard for the audience watching the live broadcast.
The ogre laughed so hard tears formed in his eyes. Wiping the corners of his eyes, he spoke with a tone dripping in disdain, "Andralier, look at yourself. You've completely lost your composure just to cling to life. You're pathetic, unworthy even to be called my rival."
"Yes, it's true. I approved the exploration of the Voidstream. By every measure, the responsibility lies with me, and I'm here to face an inquiry for that reason. But if you think you can use this to topple me in front of the city, you're laughably naive."
"A large-scale operation involving the Office of Criminal Discipline, the War Zone, and even the prison system—do you think I had sole discretion? No, 'small matters are discussed in big meetings, big matters in small ones.' Before this operation, leaders from all parties convened three times. You, Andralier, were present as the council's representative. Don't tell me you've forgotten?"
"It was with everyone's collective agreement that the operation was greenlit. Yes, the '422 Incident' was a disaster, but it was a human-made catastrophe born of collective misjudgment. I accept my share of responsibility, but yours is no smaller than mine."
Andralier nodded slightly. "Indeed. If one looks only at the cause of the incident, it was merely a war waged by the ruling class for its own gain. Unfortunately, we lost this time. Had we found the correct Voidstream passage first, not only would you have avoided blame, but you'd also have secured overwhelming support and been a shoo-in for re-election."
"At most, I could accuse you of advancing the operation for political gain. But you've already apologized, and the citizens have little else to hold against you."
Andralier glanced at the chains around Fainanshe's pillar. Despite his fiery accusations, the chains barely reacted—a clear sign that the citizens' resentment toward Fainanshe hadn't deepened.
This was unexpected. After all, while the 422 Incident caused tens of thousands of casualties, how many living citizens truly cared?
They weren't the ones who had died.
Sure, some may have lost friends or loved ones, but... so what?
They weren't the ones who had died.
If the incident caused financial losses, the government was prepared to offer compensation. And for many of the living, the deaths and destruction had benefits: vacated jobs, reconstruction projects, lowered housing costs as tenants fled, and less crowded streets.
Kaemon City had always felt a bit too crowded. Now, thanks to the attackers, there was more breathing room, more resources. Surely, many secretly thanked the foreign sorcerers for their deadly rampage.
Even Fainanshe, the primary figure responsible, hadn't drawn as much ire as his involvement in the Dragon's Lair Apartment Scandal or public exam manipulations. The dead couldn't hate him, and many of the survivors had their grievances rooted in those other scandals.
In the Blood Moon Nation, the living rarely empathized with the dead.
To use the 422 Incident to topple Fainanshe was pure folly, and Andralier knew better. He was simply using it as an opening salvo.
"Indeed," Andralier said. "When it comes to the origins of the event, every decision-maker shares the blame. That's the collective fault of governance."
"But the execution of the event—now that was your solo performance, my dear mayor."
The ogre's eyes narrowed, his gaze icy.
Andralier continued, "Within twenty minutes of the foreign sorcerers' arrival, the Church notified you of the attack. Yet, for the next three hours, you insisted nothing was wrong. You only warned citizens to stay indoors after multiple attacks at the city's edges and began mobilizing the Criminal Discipline Office and war zone adventurers."
"Warning the public prematurely would have caused panic," Fainanshe snapped. "If citizens had fled en masse out of fear, they'd have become prime targets for the sorcerers. The casualties would have been far worse!"
"Yes, and you'd be absolutely correct—if the only forces Kaemon City could rely on were the Criminal Discipline Office and the war zone," Andralier replied.
At this, the expressions of everyone present shifted to horror.
"You know not what you speak!" roared Manken. "Do you think revealing this will spare you?"
"I was never trying to survive," Andralier replied slowly, deliberately. "I only wish to face death with a clear conscience."
Fainanshe sneered. "Such noble sentiments, Andralier. One trip to prison, and suddenly you've discovered morality? How convenient."
Andralier shook his head. "Sometimes, I wonder—do I truly deserve to take your place? Can I really decide the fates of so many? Am I capable of watching lives perish before me and feeling nothing, as you do?"
He turned toward the cameras, as if addressing Kaemon's entire population.
"In Kaemon, the greatest military powers aren't the Criminal Discipline Office or the war zones. They're the Research Institute and the Church!" he declared. "Every member of the Blood Saint Clan in the Institute and the Moon Shadow Clan in the Church is a sorcerer—most of them two-winged sorcerers!"
"People like to believe the Institute is full of harmless scholars and the Church full of harmless priests. Lies. These myths were crafted to soothe the insecurities of ordinary people."
"Let me tell you—sorcerers are never weak. Never incapable of combat."
"If the Institute and Church had acted, they wouldn't have ended the threat immediately, but they'd have contained it. Casualties could've been reduced to the thousands, even the hundreds."
"But they didn't. Because this had nothing to do with them. Foreign sorcerers wouldn't dare attack their territories. In fact, this massacre aligned perfectly with their interests—Blood Saints crave corpses, and the Moon Shadows revel in death."
Andralier's voice hardened. "You, Fainanshe, were the only one with the authority to command them. As mayor, you could've summoned the Blood Saints and Moon Shadows to turn the tide."
The ogre's face remained neutral, unmoved by the accusations.
"But you didn't," Andralier continued. "Because you wouldn't risk offending them. Because you needed their support. You calculated that the sorcerers would retreat within three days, their portal being a second-tier Voidstream."
"And so, you offered up the citizens' lives as gifts to appease the Blood Moon's two great clans."
Andralier's lips curled into a faint sneer. "No one ordered you to do it. No one threatened you if you didn't. You made that choice on your own."
Fainanshe glanced at the chains writhing around him. He smirked. "Seems the people understand my position well enough. Appeasing the Blood Moon isn't shameful—it's survival."
"Is that so?" Andralier countered. "Then let's talk about the Dragon's Lair Apartment Scandal and how it was another sacrifice made to curry favor with the Institute…"
The audience collectively held their breath as Andralier continued to unravel the grotesque tapestry of political corruption.
Finally, the ogre's cold gaze turned to Ash, and an eerie smile crept across his face.
"Are you finished?" Fainanshe asked. "Good. Now, if I may, allow me to retort."