久久九九国产精品怡红院

"You may return to your seat, Nero Grant," said the same judge who had been speaking throughout. While the soldiers looked more amenable to Nero, the judges maintained the same, stern expression throughout. "Court will reconvene after judicial deliberation."

With that, the judge slammed his gavel one last time before standing up and exiting through the path meant specially for judges, followed by his two peers, leaving the courtroom hanging in heavy silence.

"What now?" Nero whispered to June.

"This is more of a formality than anything else. Now you\'re going to be taken back to your holding cell while the judges deliberate for a few hours. In truth, they have no choice but to declare this case a mistrial due to external interference.

"Considering that the details of this case have been leaked continuously, and the political pressure mounting up over the compromised judge, it\'s impossible that there is no external pressure on the judges. It\'s impossible for them to make an unbiased judgement. If they\'re quick, the decision will come in a couple of hours. If they take their time, then by tomorrow morning, you\'ll hear an answer.

All you\'ll need to do is survive the night."

"In that case, it was nice meeting you June," Nero said with a smile.

"Likewise. Say hello to your dad for me. Let me know if you ever drop by Lorilem. I\'ll have you know, although my own son is not the best Neophyte alive, he\'s pretty good as well."

Nero smirked. That name was going to follow him for a while.

As the team of soldiers came to escort Nero back, he felt like he should have been a lot more nervous about his future than he really was. Having a criminal record would kill his chances of getting into KMA. Yet instead of nervous about the final decision, Nero was feeling excited thinking about what kind of service he would end up doing.

He wondered what kind of military department he would be put into. He could already imagine that a few people, such as major Liam, might want to pull him into their own command, but he was certain it would not be as simple as that.

Nero was letting his thoughts run wild, even considering being recruited by some secret agencies, such as the vaunted Whisper Guard, when he noticed something odd.

The lights flickered in the hall they were walking through, which was not unheard of, but was still unusual. He raised his awareness to the max, looking out for any Apparition curses, when the lights flickered a couple more times.

Between flickers, Nero felt like he saw a dark figure standing in the distance, but he only appeared for a split second. When the lights flickered once more, he was gone.

Nero did not for even a second think that he was seeing things, or doubted himself. There was no room for doubt in the world of Neire. Something was wrong - he was possibly under attack.

He opened his mouth to alert his guards, but realised he couldn\'t. That\'s when he noticed that his mind was working a lot faster than his body. It was as if his mind had started working a hundred times faster, which made him feel like his body was practically standing still.

Even his eyes could not move left or right, and were stuck staring forward where the figure had been.

The lights flickered once more, and the figure suddenly appeared, standing right in front of Nero. This close, Nero recognised the man instantly, though his clothes were different. It was the prosecutor.

Even now, the man looked harmless. His features had softened, as if it had been a long time since he had had an intense workout, and age had taken away the man\'s edge. But perhaps that was all a facade, Nero realised.

Nero looked into the man\'s eyes, and realised that he still couldn\'t read his expression at all. The hints were all there, yet for some reason Nero never put them together. He was only now realising that he didn\'t even know the man\'s name.

Wait a minute… Nero didn\'t even know the names of the three judges making a decision about his future! Something… something had been dulling Nero\'s mind and instincts, and he never realised it!

"You\'ve picked up bad habits from your father," the prosecutor said, in an admonishing way. "Your smile, when you tell a misleading truth, is not the same as the one you tell when telling the whole truth. Moreover, you\'re aggressive when you want to divert the conversation in a specific direction, but that in itself is a huge tell.

In the future, become aggressive when answering truthfully, to make your opponent doubt the truth and believe the lie.

"Of course, once you\'ve established a pattern, it is up to you to change it frequently, so the opponent can\'t get a proper read on your thoughts and intentions. Also, in the future, remember this. The courtroom is just as dangerous as a battlefield, and that\'s exactly how you should treat it. You\'re much too young if you think a simple speech will sway anyone. Speeches sway the masses, not the elite."

The prosecutor completely took on the role of an elder, guiding the younger generation, pointing out the flaws in Nero\'s performance, and instructing him on how he could do better.

"Remember this kid, the Whisper Guard protects their own. Today, you have benefited from us. In the future, if you see any from the Whisper Guard in need, return the favour."

The lights flickered once more, and the prosecutor disappeared. Time returned to its normal flow, or rather, his brain was once again working at a normal pace.

Nero looked around and saw that none of the soldiers who were escorting him noticed anything amiss. That man… was terrifyingly powerful! From start to finish, Nero did not feel his aura at all. He could have been an Initiate or Arcanist for all he showed. He could also very well be a Mystic or Ascendant.

But while a lot of things still astounded him, a few things finally made sense. The reason the prosecutor was asking such silly questions, which so easily worked in Nero\'s favour, was because even the prosecutor was on his side from the beginning.

Compared to his mother, who was always hailed as an elite soldier with an exceptional battle record, and even had the ability to assail the Mystic realm years ago, his father seemed quite ordinary - even as a member of Whisper Guard.

But Nero was beginning to realise that maybe his father was not as simple as he appeared.

Obviously he was never simple - anyone could see that much. After all, his mother had the highest standards, so she would hardly settle for a mediocre man.

Nero never really knew the extent of what he did as a member of Whisper Guard, and always imagined that his dad was a secret badass. Now though, he was beginning to realise that his childish daydream… might not be so far off from reality.

As he was escorted back, Nero did not notice that he once again forgot to ask his guards about the prosecutor\'s name. It was as if he was still under the influence of whatever was affecting his mind.

Yet the farther he went from the courtroom, the lesser the effect became. Right before he reached his cell, Nero suddenly realised that June\'s farewell statement did not exactly fit her oblivious, jolly mood. She had told him all he needed to do was survive the night. It sounded harmless enough but…

As he approached his cell, Nero suddenly noticed that it was darker than when he left it. It was not unusual, since a few hours had passed and the light coming in from the single window had reduced. But why had the light in the room not been turned on?

Nero looked at his guards, and noticed that none of them were making eye contact with him. For a split second he considered running, but with his aether restrained, he would not get far. His only option was to wait for the cuffs to be removed, then face whatever obstacle lay before him.

The guards reached his cell, took off his cuffs and then pushed him in the door, before quickly shutting it and disappearing as fast as they could.

Nero didn\'t look towards them. Instead, he looked towards the darkest corner of his cell. He could see nothing there, yet…

A blue fire appeared on his fingertips, shedding its faint light into the corner, revealing the outline of a man sitting with one leg folded atop another.

"Nero Grant, the man of the hour. We finally meet."