Ashen Requiem-Chapter 63: The Goethe Defense

The Student Council Chamber was a circular room, its stone walls draped in the colors and emblems of the four Houses :

The wolf of Igris, the deer of Sylvian, the sun of Solheim, and the red serpent of Dravon.

Four crests.

Four thrones.

But today, it was war in robes.

At the center of the chamber, standing atop the raised dais, Elsa Hume—the student council president—spoke.

Bleu hair braided tight down her back, her gaze was just as cold as the power she wielded.

— "Today, we gather... to address an official complaint. A charge brought against one of our own."

She didn’t smile.

She never smiled.

— "The representative of House Dravon, Goethe Faust, stands accused by Johanna Beatrice Don Quixotte of House Solheim. Accused of defamation, abuse of power... and media manipulation."

Her eyes, glacial as her tone, swept the room. Then she locked onto Johanna.

— "But why is the victim not speaking for himself ?"

Johanna didn’t flinch.

She stood tall in her golden uniform, the nerves on her face clearly visible.

They called her the Saint of Solheim...

But today, she looked more like a soldier.

— "Because the victim is already breaking. And as a friend, an ally... it’s my duty to help him stand. Even if it means standing against a council member."

Elsa tilted her head, curious—like a queen intrigued by a new game.

She gestured for Johanna to continue.

To her left, Eldridge, the representative of Igris, remained stoic.

But behind that sleepy look... flickered a spark of surprise.

— "That kid, Dante... won over a Solheim ? Interesting."

Norah Graves, meanwhile, twirled a lock of her chestnut hair, lounging sideways as if this entire trial was just another dull stage play.

The council’s vice president didn’t care for drama—unless it served her own narrative.

— "The Academy newspaper... has become a weapon. A tool of harassment. And Goethe is the one who forged it."

Johanna’s tone held no desperation—only calm resolve.

— "Every day, Dante is mocked, exposed, vilified. And no one speaks up. Why ?Because he wasn’t born in the light part."

Goethe smirked from his chair, lounging with his legs crossed and fingers tapping the armrest.

— "Touching," he murmured smugly. "But very Don Quixotte of you. So obsessed with windmills, you forget real storms."

Elsa slammed her gavel down onto the central table.

— "I didn’t grant you the floor."

Goethe barely shrugged, but inside, he was seething.

— "If she ever tries to silence me again... I’ll rip her tongue out. Hers and that golden-robed bitch’s too."

Elsa turned to Norah, her tone still composed.

— "Vice President Graves. Your thoughts ?"

Norah rolled her eyes to the ceiling and sighed before replying.

— "All I’m hearing... is an unhealthy obsession with Dante. Nothing more, nothing less. And if we’re talking defamation—where’s the proof? Goethe never named him. He simply echoed hallway whispers."

Her gaze drifted lazily toward Johanna.

— "You, dear... you’re walking a tightrope."

A heavy silence dropped.

That word—tightrope walker—was a veiled accusation. freewёbnoνel.com

A word few dared to use since the last purges.

Eldridge tensed slightly.

Johanna clenched her fists.

— "I am not part of any underground cell." She said coldly.

Norah smiled faintly.

— "Of course. And I’m a nun."

Elsa, unfazed, kept scribbling notes.

She lived for tension like this.

— "Representative Oberon?"

Eldridge folded his arms, thoughtful.

He wanted to defend Johanna.

He knew she was right.

But he was also a House leader. Every word carried weight.

— "What she’s doing is... brave. But to bring down a council pillar, you need more than words. You need... tangible evidence."

Goethe chuckled.

— "Ah... I love this little play. This mockery of justice."

But Johanna wasn’t finished.

Without a word, she placed a camera on the table.

She slid it toward the three council heads.

Elsa took it first. She scrolled through the photos.

Dozens of shots.

Dante in the cafeteria. Dante in his room. Dante at night.

And finally—the last one :

Johanna herself, with him, in the western garden.

An intimate moment... now immortalized.

Eldridge frowned.

— "Why are two students from different Houses meeting in secret... in a forbidden zone... past curfew ?"

Johanna stammered. The words caught in her throat.

— "T-this wasn’t... it’s not what it looks like—"

Goethe beamed, teeth and all.

— "May I finally speak?"

Elsa stared at him... then gave a single nod.

— "You have the floor, Mr. Faust."

Goethe rose slowly, savoring every second.

He wore that smug, lawyer’s grin—cold and calculated. The grin of someone who already had the jury in his pocket.

— "Dear colleagues... and fellow council members."

He looked at Elsa, Norah, Eldridge.

And finally... locked eyes with Johanna—mocking, amused.

— "It’s regrettable that we’re wasting so much time on this. A non-event. A fairy tale cooked up by an overly romantic imagination."

He began circling the room, hands clasped behind his back.

— "They claim I led a smear campaign. That I targeted a student. That I twisted Genesis Morning for personal gain."

He stopped behind Johanna, tilting his head ever so slightly.

— "And yet... not a shred of direct proof. Just feelings. Suspicions. Vibes."

He scoffed.

— "A photo in a garden? That’s your smoking gun? If that’s defamation, then every paparazzo deserves a life sentence."

Elsa didn’t move. But her left eye twitched.

She hated theatrical speeches—

But she let him go on.

Goethe continued.

— "Let me ask a simple question: where is the article that calls Dante out by name? Where did I accuse him directly? Where did I slander him explicitly?"

He raised a hand.

— "Nowhere. Because I never did."

— "All I did... was reflect the whispers already echoing in these halls. Nothing more."

He turned to Eldridge.

— "Is it not our duty, as leaders, to tolerate scrutiny? If Dante is so noble, so righteous... why fear a little speculation? People only whisper when there’s something to hide."

He stepped toward Norah, who gave him an approving nod.

— "And let’s be honest. This whole affair? It’s political. It’s not about truth—it’s about feelings. About this... strange connection between a Saint of Solheim... and a heretic from Rank E."

He tapped the table gently.

— "This isn’t a trial against me. It’s a trial of their bond. Of their little... deviation."

Each word stabbed Johanna like a knife.

She felt powerless against the sheer polish of his rhetoric.

But Goethe pressed on, merciless.

— "I’m a journalist. My job is to inform—not to stroke the egos of those who think themselves chosen."

He turned to Elsa, dead serious now.

— "If awakening minds is a crime—then chain me up. But if you do... chain everyone who thinks. Who questions. Who doubts."

He spread his arms wide.

— "Or accept what we are: a school that values freedom. A school governed by truth."

He let his arms drop, then sat again—calm, victorious.

— "That’s all I have to say."

Elsa tapped her gavel twice.

— "This hearing is adjourned. A formal investigation will be launched."

Translation in Johanna’s head :

— "They’re burying this. Until further notice."

Her eyes welled with frustration.

Because Goethe had won this round with smooth words alone.

And in a rigged system...that was all it took.

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