Warlock Ch 445. Not a Good Day to Get Cocky
Damian didn't speak. He didn't need to. The sick, familiar weight that pressed against his chest already told him everything. He could see it in the posture of the lead mages, the puffed-up shoulders of the armored knights, the arrogance dripping from their aura like spoiled wine.
They weren't here for negotiation.
They were here to accuse.
The convoy halted just a few paces from the ceremonial grounds.
A voice rang out. Clear. Commanding. A woman in flowing emerald robes, adorned with the sigil of the Grand Tribunal—a balanced scale entwined with burning vines. Her expression was tight. Her eyes cold.
"Damian Blackthorn," she called, "You are hereby summoned to stand trial for your crimes against the Magus Accord, the Tribunal, and all sanctified peoples of the allied territories. Surrender yourself peacefully and you will be granted an unbiased trial."
Damian raised a brow. "Unbiased. Right."
