WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 122: Don Quixote’s Reverie (6)
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The sight that unfolded before us.
Beyond the door I had thrown open, a pure white space awaited us.
Ding-!
[The Apostle, ‘Chief Justice of Old Winter,’ gazes upon you.]
[Your trial begins.]
It was a courtroom.
A courtroom that looked as though it had been carved from winter itself.
Frost clung to it here and there, while clusters of snow blossoms hung with solemn grace.
The judge's bench had been sculpted from an iceberg, and a massive set of scales stood before it.
‘More than I expected, it’s...’
It was far more imposing than I had expected.
I quietly drew a deep breath, nearly biting down on my numb lips.
“Ah...”
Long white blossoms bloomed with each exhalation.
Even compared to the other floors, the air in this courtroom was frigid.
Still, its cold, solemn atmosphere seemed fitting for the nature of a trial.
I lifted my gaze slightly.
“...”
Only one figure occupied the courtroom.
Something sat atop the judge's bench behind the scales.
A robed figure looked down at us.
It had a human outline, yet we instinctively knew it was not human.
Ding-!
[Name: Chief Justice of Old Winter]
-Race: Ghost
-Classification: Boss Monster
-Description: A judge who has guarded this temple for a long time. It is a lingering thought left behind by the ancient sage Lumiera, and it pursues an extreme form of justice. Making an enemy of the Chief Justice is not a good choice. Be respectful and undergo the trial according to the Chief Justice's guidance.
Static filled the robe, making it impossible to see what lay within.
The old lingering thought silently held its gavel.
There were no prosecutors or defense attorneys in sight.
Apart from the winter-clad Archjudge seated behind the bench, only two young defendants were present.
“...”
A precarious tension hung in the room.
The judge was the first to break the silence.
A strange voice echoed from the lingering thought.
<Defendants, appear before the court.>
Its gaze seemed to pierce flesh.
Even while seated, the judge's presence oppressed the entire courtroom.
“Ugh...?”
Ranne flinched at that alien pressure.
Had she been overwhelmed by the Archjudge's presence?
Her hand tightened around her spear.
“Miss Ranne.”
“...I'm fine.”
Perhaps she remembered my warning, because she stayed as quiet as a mouse.
To help her relax, I gently patted the girl's blond hair a few times.
Then I whispered softly in her ear.
“It’s all right. Just follow me slowly.”
The judge waited for the defendants.
I stepped forward first.
“Activate. Gloves.”
Shrrrk-.
I put away the pitch-black scythe and straightened my clothes.
I also removed my mask and carefully stored it inside my robe.
One had to dress properly in a courtroom.
Step, step-.
Then, without hesitation, I walked across the icy floor.
I stopped at the center of the courtroom, opposite the judge's bench.
Only a few steps away from the enormous scales.
“Defendant Viktor is present for the hearing.”
<Your presence is acknowledged.>
It was where the defendants stood.
Ranne, who had remained behind, hesitated before following me and taking her place at my side.
“...Defendant Ranne Kihano, knight name Don Quixote de La Mancha, is present for the hearing.”
<Your presence is acknowledged.>
The Archjudge acknowledged both defendants.
The scales creaked.
<The trial will now begin.>
Bang-.
The gavel carved from ice struck its block.
As the clear crack echoed through the room, chilling cold swarmed around us like a spotlight.
Ding-!
[Linked Quest]
-Title: To Live, Perhaps to Die.
-Details: Receive a verdict of not guilty from the Apostle, ‘Chief Justice of Old Winter.’
-Penalty upon Failure: Execution
-Reward upon Success: ???
The trial had begun.
From this point on, we had to receive a not guilty verdict from that lingering thought.
We could not afford to receive the penalty called Execution.
‘Then... what are we being tried for?’
This trial was not about crimes.
What was judged here was a person's value as a human being.
‘The qualification to be human.’
Lumiera, the ancient Archjudge.
She believed that every human had to hold at least one value more precious than their own life.
She said that prioritizing life alone was the way of beasts, and that only those who pursued a value could become true humans.
‘It would've been fine if it had stopped there...’
The lingering thought left here was an identity formed from Lumiera's beliefs taken to an extreme.
Those who failed to meet its standards were treated as beasts rather than humans.
Not guilty meant human.
Guilty meant beast.
‘And... wild beasts aren't allowed into a sacred courtroom.’
If a guilty verdict was handed down, the judge would eliminate the target with its full strength.
That was Execution.
‘It'll be fine.’
Neither of the two defendants standing here seemed likely to receive a guilty verdict.
I shook off the needless tension.
A desk stood before each defendant.
On each desk sat a silver cup and a knife, as though they had been prepared for us.
“...”
The form of the trial was simple.
The scales before us.
A metaphor for life would be placed on one side, and a metaphor for value on the other.
Then we would see which side tipped lower.
‘Is there a value you cherish more than your life?’
That was the question being asked.
<Defendants, fill the cups with life.>
The Archjudge's solemn command echoed through the room.
As if to demonstrate, I picked up the cup and knife on my desk first.
The cup was about the size of a shot glass.
I had to fill it with my own blood.
The part of the human body that committed the most evil throughout one's life.
‘The hand.’
Slash-.
I cut a cross into my palm, letting blood flow.
Red. The proof of life dripped down.
The small cup filled to the brim without overflowing.
Once I had finished preparing, I placed the full cup and knife back on the desk.
“Miss Ranne.”
“Yes.”
Ranne went through the same process.
Each person's life sat alone on their own table.
<Acknowledged.>
The judge looked down at the cups filled with red.
The blond girl's life was the first to rise onto the scales.
Whoosh-.
At a flick of the lingering thought's hand, the cup floated into the air.
Its contents sloshed as it settled quietly onto one side of the scales.
<Defendant Ranne Kihano.>
The lingering thought called the defendant's name.
<What will you place on the other side?>
<State the value you consider important, the value you believe weighs more than your own life.>
The question was cold.
Yet Ranne did not tremble as she spoke the word she held in her heart.
“...Goodness. More precisely, I would call it altruism.”
<Acknowledged.>
Scratch, scratch-.
After hearing the girl's answer, the judge's pen moved.
A sheet of paper covered in elegant handwriting was folded.
Altruism.
Folded into the shape of a crane, the paper flew onto the opposite pan.
Both metaphors, life and value, now rested on the scales.
Creak, creak-.
The scales swayed from side to side.
The two sides of the scales rose and fell repeatedly.
“...”
In the end, though, the side holding the paper crane sank.
The judge observed the scales.
At the same time, it struck its gavel.
<Ranne Kihano, not guilty.>
Bang, bang, bang-.
The cold that had enveloped Ranne dissipated.
Of course, it did not end there.
The trial immediately moved on to the next turn.
<Next.>
<Defendant Viktor.>
I was given the same question.
After thinking for a moment, I smiled and answered.
“Faith. I'll go with faith. Faith in people.”
<Acknowledged.>
The judge's pen scratched across the paper.
Another paper crane folded itself.
Faith.
The crane flew through the air.
Just as before, the scales tipped.
It took longer than it had for Ranne, but the tilt clearly favored the crane.
‘Niiiice.’
Relieved, I stood in place.
That much of a tilt was enough to pass.
Ranne's side sinking all the way down was the unusual part.
As I quietly waited for the verdict, the Archjudge's voice followed.
<The scales have tipped.>
<It has been determined that you are fully qualified to live as a human.>
<Therefore, this Archjudge finds the defendant Viktor not guilty...>
<Wait.>
At that moment, the air suddenly changed.
The courtroom's atmosphere, which had begun to ease, froze over once more.
Without striking its gavel, the judge looked down at me.
<The defendant's claim is doubtful.>
<Therefore, a second trial will be held to reach a clearer verdict.>
A one-sided announcement.
I could only stare blankly at it.
‘...What?’
This was not what I had expected.
No, nothing like this had happened in the original story either.
The judge's outline darkened completely, becoming utterly different from what it had been seconds ago.
‘That isn't the judge...!’
It looked as though something had possessed it.
The nature of its presence had changed. This was not an aura that could have come from this dungeon's boss.
The instinct that something had gone wrong slowly crawled down my spine.
Ding-!
[The Apostle, ‘Judge of the Withered Winter,’ watches you???]
Ding-!
Ding-!
D̸i̴n̸g̴-!
[The Apostle, ‘Judge of the Withered Winter,’ w̴a̴t̴c̴h̴e̴s̴ you?̴??]
[T̴h̴e̴ Apostle, ‘The Withered Winter’s ■■■,’ watches you????]
[T̴h̴e̴ Apostle, ‘■■ ■inter’s ■udge,’ is ■■■ing you???]
[■■ ‘■ith ■■■ ■■’ is ■■■ ■■■?]
[■■ ‘■ith ■■■ ■■■’■ ■■ ■■■ing■■■]
[■■ ■■ ■■■ ■■■■ ■■■ ■■■■■■■]
The status window darkened as if it were running wild.
By then, a figure filled with static like an error sat atop the judge's bench.
The black haze that had swallowed the judge opened its mouth.
“Kim Muro.”
A name I had thought I would never hear again.
The curtain rose only now on the trial I had thought was over.
Footnotes:
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