Chapter 177: A long day
The doors swung open again, hinges groaning beneath the weight of so many horrors already passed, and in the archway stood the next family—another ornate bloodline with smiles lacquered over guilt and powder clinging to pale, worried faces. But before the guards could even announce their names, Allen lifted a single hand.
"Enough."
His voice rolled through the chamber like the final clang of a distant executioner’s bell.
Every breath in the room held still.
The family in the doorway hesitated, exchanging wide-eyed glances. Were they spared? Was this mercy? Or was it just a postponement of the inevitable?
Allen turned his back on them, cloak swirling at his heels like smoke.
"The tribunal is adjourned for the day. No more judgments will be passed until the bell strikes first light tomorrow."
There was no fanfare, no further explanation. Just the soft, stunned murmur of the remaining nobles as the tension in the room dropped—not vanished, but shifted—like a noose being temporarily loosened from the neck.
Some exhaled for the first time in hours. Others clutched handkerchiefs with trembling hands, knuckles white with repressed panic. One woman in violet leaned against a column, legs giving out under her as she sobbed quietly into her gloves. A few nobles nearly collapsed in place, sweat-soaked finery clinging to their spines.
Relief, yes—but not salvation.
They knew better.
Allen’s mercy was not kindness.