Bella looked at him. "Will you be going?"

Ethan was quiet for a moment, giving it some thought. Then he exhaled. "The Desdemonas are people I’m currently up against.."

"Getting that close to them makes it easier, not just to identify them, but to understand how their behaviors."

A brief pause followed. "So yes... I think I’ll be in attendance. But we’ll have to be careful."

Bella nodded almost immediately. "Then I’m coming with you."

Ethan glanced at her, then gave an approving smile. "Yeah," he said. "That’s definitely one way to go about it."

"And I too, Master Ethan" Eduardo said with a short how

But Ethan quickly turned to his butler and shook his head, "it’s just going to be us..."

Ethan placed his hand on his shoulder, "there’ll most likely be family leaders there, and while I understand you’re fearless... I don’t think i’d like a reunion situation. We’re merely there for observance"

Eduardo understood the angle the young master was coming from and gave a nod. His presence there would only make things awkward, drawing more attention to them than necessary.

With that settled, Ethan turned and head out for work.

——

At the palace...

Alistair made his way down the corridors, with a pair of uniformed guards following closely behind.

As they approached the dungeon wing, he raised a hand. "Wait here."

The guards stopped without question and Alistair continued alone.

Inside the cell, Edgar Desdemona was seated on a bench and hunched over. His cuffed hands resting between his knees and his gaze remained fixed on the ground.

The sound of the gate opening made him look up as he whispered the name, "Alistair..."

Suddenly, he gained a hopeful expression.

"My grandmother," Edgar said quickly. "Has she said anything? Please tell me she’ll do something about this..."

Alistair shook his head. "...You know how she is," he said after a moment. "To her, this merely an inconvenience she won’t involve herself with."

Edgar’s expression changed. "But She wouldn’t ignore this if you requested. You have to find a way to talk to her to help me before the sentence..."

Alistair sighed. "About that...it’s why I’m here. There are guards outside and they’re here for you."

Edgar went still. "...Today?"

Alistair gave a small nod.

Realization set in for Edgar who then slowly leaned back as he drew in a breath. Perhaps it was time he accepted his fate.

After a moment, he looked back up and asked, "Then why are you here?"

Alistair answered. "I came to talk about a variable... Ethan Stark."

Edgar’s expression became furious. "That bastard!"

The name alone changed the air in the cell.

"It seems to me," Alistair went on, "that you’ve become... a victim of circumstances."

"I don’t know what arrangement my father made with him. But I know this much, Stark is operating with the King’s backing."

His eyes locked onto Edgar’s. "And that’s why your fall was so... fast."

"I knew he had something to do with this!" Edgar’s tone remained furious as he clenched his fist. Hating his helplessness.

"I can’t change what’s about to happen to you," Alistair continued. "That part is already decided. But I want to know everything you learned in your brief time against him."

Edgar then lifted his head once more and gave a nod.

——

A few hours later...

There was a gathering mass at Leon Square, the largest public square in all of Grayfort. It had built in honor of the late King Leon Tudor.

However, standing at the center of the square was the towering statue of the current King Carson, carved from white marble.

He was depicted in full regalia, one hand resting on the hilt of a sword, and the other raised in a gesture of authority.

It was a silent reminder of who held power in Gritnia.

Today, the square was filled beyond capacity, with citizens continually flooding in from every corner of the city. Some stood on elevated steps surrounding the perimeter, craning their necks for a better view.

Some held out their arcphones, recording everything. Some others whispered to one another, with their expressions ranging from curiosity, fear, and satisfaction.

Edgar Desdemona was led forward, still bound in mana-dampening cuffs. His once immaculate suit was wrinkled and stained, his hair was looked unkempt and he walked with his head down.

Behind him, were six members of the Verity Order. They moved in perfect unison, with their hoods obscuring their faces.

The guards on Edgar’s sides stopped at a designated point, just before the base of the statue as they forced Edgar to his knees.

Then, from the side, a figure stepped forward.

It was General Iroh, and right now, he ascended a raised platform that had been prepared in advance, positioning himself so that his voice would carry across the entire square.

"Citizens of Gritnia," he began. "You have gathered here today to bear witness to the enforcement of the King’s law."

"Before you kneels Edgar Desdemona, a man of wealth and influence. A man who believed himself above the reach of justice."

His gaze swept across the crowd.

"He has been found guilty of ordering the assassination of Isaac Hargreeves, one of our nation’s most brilliant minds. A man whose contributions shaped our society, and brought honor to this country."

Iroh’s tone hardened.

"Edgar Desdemona sought to claim that brilliance for himself. And when Isaac Hargreeves refused him, he had him killed. Then, in an act of further desecration, he brought Isaac back as a summon, forcing him to labor even in death."

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"This crime," Iroh continued, "is not only a violation of the law set by His Majesty. It is a violation of the dignity of the dead."

"By King’s decree, Edgar Desdemona has been sentenced to Severance. A sentence that will strip him of his power and leave him as he truly is... ordinary."

Iroh’s eyes turned toward Edgar.

"Let this serve as a warning," he said, his voice carrying across the square like a declaration of war. "No one is above the King’s law. Not wealth, not family, not legacy."

He stepped back and the six members of the Verity Order moved forward.

They surrounded Edgar in a perfect circle, then raised their hands as one.

White threads of light began to form, emerging from the palms of each robed figure and glowing ethereally . The threads extended upward, rising into the air above Edgar with deliberate.

The crowd watched with awe in their eyes as the threads converged above Edgar’s head, twisting and threading together to form a structure that grew larger with each passing second.

It finally took shape into what resembled a massive sword of radiant light that made it difficult to look at directly. It was easily ten feet in length.

Edgar’s breath became shallow and uneven, especially now as he knew what was coming.

Then the blade began to descend, but instead of direct contact, it phased through his body in a single, clean motion, from the crown of his head down through his torso, bisecting him vertically without leaving a single mark.

There was no blood, save for the whitish miasma that passed filled the air around him briefly.

But the moment it passed through him, Edgar’s eyes snapped wide open. He looked horrified while staring upward at nothing.

His mouth was opened in a silent gasp as he felt the effect of severance.

It was not pain, not in the traditional sense. But It was absence, somewhat.

He could still feel the mana around him, could still sense its presence in the air, in the ground, in the very fabric of the world.

But he could not touch it.

It was as though an endless ocean now stretched between him and what had once been his power. He reached for it instinctively, desperately, trying to grasp at the threads of mana that had always responded to his call.

But there was nothing. That connection was gone now.

It felt like drowning in open air. Like standing in a room full of light but being unable to see. The absence was suffocating.

Edgar’s breathing became ragged and his hands trembled. He stared down at them, as though expecting something, but nothing happened at all.

The blade above him dissolved into nothingness as the Verity Order lowered their hands and stepped back in completion of their duty.

The spell they had just cast was of the light magic element, but it had no tier like the others. This was because its strength was difficult to rank, requiring at least six A-ranked casters to successfully perform it.

The crowd had varying reactions Some gasped, others murmured in shock and a few continued recording.

A moment later, the guards returned and carried Edgar away.