"Don't worry, I'll come for you soon!"
"You're my subordinates, My men! No one can hold you!"
Tartaglia declared to his subordinates, though his current seated position in a wheelchair hardly lent credibility to his words.
"Keep dreaming," the Maison Gardiennage officer pushing the wheelchair scoffed. "They murdered people in broad daylight, right in front of our officers. At the very least, they'll be spending years in prison before they see daylight again."
"Hmph, you Fontainians are so boring."
"What's the big deal about killing someone?"
"This world operates on the law of the jungle: the strong dominate the weak."
"Every Harbinger like me has clawed their way to the top through mountains of corpses and seas of blood!"
"Well said!"
The officer immediately pulled out a small notebook.
"Keep talking, I'm taking notes."
"Oh, and you should detail the victims' identities for the record."
"Rest assured, in Fontaine, confessing can reduce your sentence."
Tartaglia: "..."
-
"The Judgment against Monsieur Tartaglia will now resume."
As Tartaglia, looking thoroughly dejected, was wheeled back to the defendant's dock, Neuvillette announced in a clear, resonant voice, "The Maison Gardiennage has accused you, Monsieur Tartaglia, of being the murderer of the deceased. Do you have any rebuttal to this accusation?"
"Of course I do! I, Tartaglia, always take responsibility for my actions!"
"I've killed plenty of people, but he definitely wasn't one of them!"
Tartaglia naturally refused to confess, his voice ringing with defiance. However, his reasons for denying the charge were... questionable.
The audience erupted in laughter, their amusement having begun as soon as Tartaglia was wheeled into the courtroom.
A defendant participating in a Judgment while confined to a wheelchair was an unprecedented sight in Fontaine's history.
Yet the Fontainians, who had recently witnessed so many historic trials firsthand, remained remarkably unfazed.
"Monsieur Tartaglia, I must remind you," Neuvillette said, his tone firm. "If you wish to contest the charges, you must provide relevant evidence."
Hearing Neuvillette's words, Tartaglia immediately spoke up.
"The manager of the Northland Bank knows I went to collect debts. You can ask him."
Neuvillette nodded to a Maison Gardiennage officer beside him. Soon, the manager of the Northland Bank was summoned to the courtroom to testify.
"Lord Childe, I only asked you to collect debts! Why did you kill anyone?"
Tartaglia: "???"
Tartaglia was utterly stunned by this sudden betrayal.
"Monsieur Chief Justice," the manager continued, "Lord Childe may not fully understand Fontaine's customs, which is why he committed murder in broad daylight. I implore you to show leniency in his sentencing!"
The audience erupted into renewed chatter.
"I thought the Fatui would protect their own!"
"It seems the Northland Bank manager has already confirmed that the Fatui's Lord Childe is the killer."
"If he's been denounced by his own people, is there even any point in continuing the Judgment?"
"This is practically righteous self-sacrifice!"
-
Tartaglia took a deep breath.
Fine, fine, so that's how you're all playing me? I'll remember this!
"Monsieur, you may step aside for now," Neuvillette instructed.
At Neuvillette's command, the head of the Northland Bank moved to the side to observe the Judgment.
My apologies, Lord Childe. But you shouldn't have crossed Lord Pantalone!
"It seems the accused is indeed that Fatui Harbinger."
"Why the rush? After seeing so many cases lately, haven't you learned there's always a twist coming?"
"But all the previous suspects were Fontainians. He isn't."
"You have a point."
-
"Monsieur Tartaglia, do you have any rebuttals?"
"I didn't kill anyone! How can you expect me to prove something I didn't do?!" Tartaglia snapped, his voice edged with panic. He sensed things were going wrong—could they actually convict him and throw him in jail? That would be utterly humiliating!
"The Maison Gardiennage's investigative findings should have been presented to you before the trial, Monsieur Tartaglia. You can use those findings to refute the false accusations against you."
Tartaglia froze at Neuvillette's words.
Now that I think about it, he recalled, those two Maison Gardiennage officers did try to show me something earlier. But the mere sight of them had infuriated me—how could I possibly have looked at anything they handed me?
"So what if I didn't look? Surely Fontaine wouldn't actually pin the blame on me, would they?"
"Framing an innocent man—is that what you Fontainians call justice and fairness?"
Neuvillette regarded Tartaglia, shaking his head slightly with a hint of exasperation.
"Considering that Monsieur Tartaglia has neither appointed legal representation nor reviewed the case files, this Judgment is adjourned until tomorrow."
With that, Neuvillette rose and left the courtroom.
The audience couldn't contain their amusement. It was the first time they'd encountered such a clueless hothead—someone whose very freedom was at stake, yet hadn't even bothered to review the case details or investigative findings.
The crowd was at a loss for words. However, considering how much amusement the Fatui had provided them that day, they were surprisingly lenient towards Tartaglia, ultimately departing with only a hint of disappointment.
"Monsieur Tartaglia, I strongly advise you to retain an attorney for your defense. Given your performance today, your situation will be extremely precarious tomorrow."
A Maison Gardiennage officer pushed Tartaglia into his temporary quarters and left with this parting advice.
"Attorney Qiang has a high success rate. I suggest you prioritize him, Monsieur Tartaglia."
"More pressing than that, I'm concerned about my subordinates. How are they?" Tartaglia asked.
The officer replied calmly, "If you are convicted tomorrow, you'll be reunited with them in the Fortress of Meropide."
Tartaglia: "..."
"If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave. I hope you sleep well tonight, Monsieur Tartaglia."
With those words, the officer departed abruptly.
Tartaglia watched the officer's retreating figure, stroking his chin in thought.
Imprisonment was out of the question; the deceased had nothing to do with me.
But he couldn't abandon his newly acquired subordinates either. Looks like I'll have to break them out of jail.
-
Neuvillette stood on the platform behind Palais Mermonia, gazing into the distance to clear his mind. But then he heard familiar footsteps approaching from afar and took a deep breath.
"Neuvillette, I heard you presided over the Judgment of Tartaglia, the Fatui Harbinger, today," Clorinde said, her voice grave as she watched Neuvillette turn to face her.
"This man may be connected to the Fleuve Cendre Rectification Case from before."
"I've seen the photos of his actions," she continued. "They closely match Navia's description of someone involved in that case. I'd like to hear your thoughts on this."
Hearing Clorinde's words, Neuvillette's expression turned somber.
The Fleuve Cendre Rectification Case, which cost the lives of thousands of Fleuve Cendre residents, had sparked widespread protests and demonstrations across Fontaine. It had even directly or indirectly led to the downfall or deaths of several high-ranking nobles. Though it didn't rival the impact of the No. 6 Incident on Fontaine, it remained a pivotal event in the nation's history.
Since that case, the atmosphere within Fontaine's high command had significantly improved. While corrupt nobles still existed, their abuses of power had been significantly curtailed, marking a stark improvement over the previous state of affairs.
Yet the case's conclusion remained shrouded in mystery. Neuvillette had sensed that Navia was withholding something, but he ultimately chose not to press for the truth.
Now, hearing Clorinde suggest Tartaglia's potential connection to the case, Neuvillette immediately tensed.
Clorinde quickly relayed Navia's description from that night to Neuvillette. Upon hearing it, Neuvillette's expression grew even more solemn.
Not just similar—they're practically identical!
As the one who had personally fought Tartaglia, Neuvillette had the most authority on this matter.
"The description matches perfectly," he confirmed. "At the very least, their techniques match."
"It seems my intuition was correct after all. It wasn't a waste to temporarily abandon my duties and return to Fontaine."
Hearing Clorinde's words, Neuvillette couldn't help but ask, "How many members of the Cult of No. 6 have you apprehended and processed so far?"
"It's hard to say exactly. Counting the members who regularly participate in the cult's 'return rituals,' we're likely approaching a thousand by now."
A heavy silence fell between them.
An organization with over a thousand members would typically pose a significant threat to any nation. Yet the Cult of No. 6's actions thus far had been so trivial, utterly failing to convey any sense of danger.
It wasn't that they wanted the cult to escalate things; rather, this consistent pattern of insignificant actions felt deeply unnatural, as if the cult were deliberately handing themselves over.
Moreover, considering that the group's operations had rarely succeeded thus far, one would expect new recruits to dwindle. Why, then, were so many still joining, only to be sentenced and imprisoned in the Fortress of Meropide?
In fact, the fortress was nearly at full capacity, forcing him to expedite the construction of a new prison.
"In any case, we must not allow this organization to threaten the normal lives of Fontaine citizens," Neuvillette said with a sigh. "Clorinde, I trust you completely with this matter."
"Then I thank you in advance for your confidence in me," Clorinde replied calmly.
"Since Miss Navia engaged with the organization directly, having her testify would be ideal," Clorinde immediately suggested upon hearing Neuvillette's words.
"I'll go find Miss Navia immediately," she said, turning and leaving without another word.
True to her decisive nature, Clorinde located Navia swiftly.
When Navia heard Clorinde's purpose, she was utterly bewildered.
Wait a minute... Wasn't the person I fought back then my Teacher?
Not just Navia, but Melus and Silver beside her were equally dumbfounded. Silver even overfilled his teacup with black tea without noticing, letting the liquid spill over.
"Is something wrong?" Clorinde asked, noticing their peculiar expressions.
"No, nothing's wrong. I was just thinking about something else," Navia replied, though Clorinde could sense she was withholding something. She chose not to press the matter.
"Miss Clorinde, do you happen to have a photo of that Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia?"
Clorinde nodded and retrieved a newspaper clipping from her pocket—a photo taken by reporters at the scene. It was clear she had cut it out herself.
Melus and Silver leaned in curiously for a look. The moment they saw it, all three froze again.
Navia's expression grew dazed.
The resemblance... it's uncanny!
The Hydro Element bow weapon in his hand, his height, his build—everything matched the figure from that night perfectly.
Wait a minute... Now that she thought about it, the figure's physique had been slightly different from her teacher's. She hadn't questioned it earlier because her teacher had readily admitted to being the attacker.
Could it be... that the person she fought wasn't her teacher after all?!
Voices and movements could be imitated, but body size could not!
Navia remembered now: her Teacher's frame was slightly larger than the figure she had fought that night.
The difference was so subtle that she wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't spent years studying her Teacher's every gesture.
Long-dormant memories resurfaced, the crimson hue of that night burning vividly in her mind.
Navia couldn't help but recall the faces of those who had died that night. Amidst her grief, she felt a profound bewilderment: why had her Teacher lied, even to the point of dying branded as a murderer?
Suddenly, Navia's body trembled violently.
How similar! How strikingly similar her Teacher was to her Father!
Both had been beacons guiding others, yet both had died bearing public scorn.
In the end, she hadn't even dared to carve an inscription on her Teacher's tombstone, fearing that enraged mobs might desecrate the grave and disturb her Teacher's eternal rest.
This means her Teacher must have confronted the true culprit—perhaps even clashed with them. But clearly, her Teacher had either been defeated or held captive by some blackmail, forcing him into this scapegoat deal.
Whether for her sake or for the sake of everyone, her Teacher had resolutely shouldered all the blame and departed.
As Navia thought this, her anger flared, her eyes burning with fury, and the Pyro Element Vision on her body glowed fiercely.
"Miss Navia," Clorinde began, "judging by your expression, you never truly believed Grett was the mastermind behind this from the beginning."
"Yet you also seem convinced he was the man present that night."
Clorinde hoped Navia would clarify her conflicting stance, but Navia would never reveal such sensitive information to anyone else. She immediately steered the conversation in a different direction.
"Miss Clorinde, while standard procedure dictates we should first hear his voice to confirm he was the man that night before formally indicting him at the Judgment, I have a better idea to ensure he has no room to weasel out of it."
Observing Navia's resolute demeanor, Clorinde paused thoughtfully before nodding in agreement.