As the trial was adjourned, Brandon was imdiately free.
Alia and Belle rushed towards him, the two locking him in an embrace.
"Brandon!"
Brandon ruffled their hair gently, and flashed the two a warm smile.
"Are you okay? How badly did they hurt you?"
Alia asked.
"It's nothing much. I'm fine."
Brandon shrugged it off, and the two pulled away. Alia and Belle seed like they wanted to say sothing, most probably regarding Evelyn's death, but refrained from doing so.
Instead, Alia posed the sa question, trying to ask about his ntal health, but in a roundabout way.
"Are you…. okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Brandon flexed his bicep.
"See?"
And flashed her yet another warm smile.
"Ah, okay….."
She wasn't talking about him physically…. But Alia stopped questioning there, and Belle remained silent.
They knew his smile was a facade, an attempt to reassure them. But behind his eyes, there was emptiness they couldn't describe.
"Listen, Brandon—" Belle was just about to speak, when Brandon suddenly walked forward.
"Anyway, let's go. I'm kinda tired."
"Y–Yeah, okay."
Brandon strode off without glancing back, as if he hadn't realized the two won weren't following him.
Alia and Belle exchanged glances, a look of concern spreading across their faces.
"Is he gonna be okay?"
Belle asked.
"....I don't know. But…. I feel like things will be different from now on."
It beca apparent to them after the trial, seeing all the articles, and the posts on social dia regarding the trial.
The entire world's eyes were on Brandon Locke.
***
Crossing her legs, after the trial was adjourned and the broadcasting ended, Lust blinked her eyes, unable to process what just happened.
How did he figure things out?
But the bigger question that swirled in her mind was….
'Where did his knowledge regarding the Archbishops co from?'
Things didn't go according to plan at all.
WHIII—
All of a sudden, a portal materialized behind her seat, and a man erged shortly after, causing Lust to frown in disgust.
"You again…."
It was Pride.
"You've completely fucked up big–ti."
"...."
Lust had tried to deny it in her heart, assuring herself that in the end, she had broken Brandon ntally.
"Look how the turns tabled."
"...."
Lust's eye twitched. He'd gotten it wrong. 'Tables turned,' she wanted to correct him, but she didn't. She knew he was only trying to provoke her.
But Pride wasn't entirely wrong.
She had underestimated Brandon.
She had planned to push him to the edge, break him completely.
"Little old Lust thinking everything was under control. What was your motto again? Everything in this world belongs to ! Right? Ha, look at you now!"
Pride, his figure standing tall and smug, tilted his head slightly.
"You got cocky. You thought you could control everything."
Lust crossed her legs tighter, feeling the anger and frustration bubbling inside her.
She had erased every trace of her involvent, killed anyone who knew too much.
Brandon should have been a broken man by now, frad for Evelyn's murder and forced to flee as a fugitive.
And where would he flee?
Of course, to Milis. The root of all problems.
That was the entirety of her plan.
But instead, he had turned the trial into a platform—a platform to expose the truth to the world.
"...."
"You've been outplayed. The trial you thought would end him was nothing but a stage for him to completely tear everything down."
Lust's heart pounded faster, but this ti, it wasn't just anger. It was sothing else.
His strength, his resilience—it excited her.
The more he resisted, the more she wanted him.
The more he defied her, the more she longed to break him, to make him hers in every way.
And now, after everything, all she could think about was how much she wanted to crush him, to make him beg for her rcy.
But how had he managed to figure it all out?
"How did he know?"
She muttered under her breath, more to herself than Pride.
"That's the question, isn't it? How does he know about us? About the Archbishops?"
Lust's fists clenched in her lap.
That was the biggest mystery of all. There should've been no open knowledge about the Archbishops.
They had been discreetly manipulating everything for years.
Yet sohow, Brandon had pieced it together.
"He's…. sothing else…."
Her voice was soft, almost reverent, her mind, a storm of conflicting emotions.
Brandon had ruined everything.
Chapter Continue:
He had turned her perfect plan into a disaster, and yet, she couldn't stop thinking about him.
She couldn't stop picturing him, standing tall, defiant against her, even as she plotted to destroy everything around him slowly.
He was her obsession.
"I'll have him."
She whispered.
"I'll break him. And when I do, he'll be mine."
Pride raised an eyebrow.
"And if he doesn't break? What then?"
Lust's lips curved into a twisted smile.
"Then I'll enjoy every mont of it. Every mont until he does. This continent, it can all burn down to the ground."
Pride shook his head, sighing as he stood upright.
"You're a hopeless case."
"...."
She ignored him, her thoughts already spiraling back to Brandon. The trial had been a setback, but it wasn't over.
Everything may have been exposed to the world, but her identity still remained a secret.
"Just so you know, it seems like the Elders are on his side, any way you can handle that?"
"I know. I've already thought of so counterasures against it."
But changing the topic.
"Are you going to remain idle? I know you aren't posted here, but he's opposed the Archbishops entirely. What about the others? Have they said anything about it?"
"It's not my job to clean up your ss. You know how the Archbishops are—"
They all had different objectives that suited their needs.
In other words, they were doing whatever they wanted.
As if the entire world was their play–pen.
"But in the end, you've accomplished what you were here for in the first place."
While they had all operated under their own volition, the Archbishops had one shared collective.
To find every humanoid races' whereabouts.
Holy Britannia might've thought they had all erged from the calamity a year ago.
But that couldn't be further from the truth.
They had been here all along, hidden in plain sight.
Not even the current Elders were aware of this secret.
After all, those Elders who knew were long dead.
"Soone's coming. Thought I'd give you a heads–up."
"Who?"
"Greed."
***
"Oh?"
A man seated in a throne, rubbed his chin with his brows raised.
Ghostly strands frad his face, his gaze, a piercing shade of athyst, glead with interest.
"Could it be?"
He had seen the broadcast for himself.
The man was none other than the Archbishop Sin of Wrath.
Seeing Brandon Locke's provocation, a myriad of thoughts filled Wrath's mind.
It was nothing but a broadcast, sothing he could see on the screen.
Yet Wrath could more or less estimate Brandon Locke's strength.
He was weak.
Undoubtedly so.
But that confidence….
It was akin to pride.
No, not quite.
It was vanity itself.
"Is it really—"
The thought just wouldn't leave his mind.
"Vainglory?"
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