I Refused To Be Reincarnated-Chapter 886: Before the Throne of Thal

Adam froze in front of the training grounds of the war council, his wide eyes locked on the titanic Gate. How and where was it connected?

An orc warrior wrenched the chain cuffed around his wrists, growling. "Move, human!"

Adam stumbled, dragged into a jog between dummies and armored guards until he entered the building. After crossing a short corridor, one of the warriors behind him kicked the back of his knees. As soon as his knees hit the ground, the warrior's thick fingers found the back of the skull, forcing his gaze to a throne of blades and bones.

Strong fingers clutched the rusty pommel and the beast skull forming the armrests. The figure leaned forward, his features concealed by a brown leather hood. He noted ten more thrones occupied by warriors beside it. They glared back at him, their brows arched and their tusks glinting over their dismissive grins. Behind them, shamans sat on their chairs, hundreds of red eyes curved beneath their hoods.

The dozens of shamans who had escorted him offered bows and formal greetings, but Adam grinned at the figure in the middle. The fire from the brazier illuminating the war council danced in his eyes as he chuckled.

"The great shaman, I presume. I would have loved to meet you in other... circumstances." He forced his neck to the side while the warrior pressed it into place instantly. "My neck is quite healthy. I assure you, I need no help to gaze at you."

"You dare interrupt us using our language with your human voice?" One of the seated warriors slammed his armrest, leaping to his feet in the same movement.

Bao let out a strangled yelp on Adam's shoulder. Her trembling had never ceased since his surrender, and she did the only thing she could: bundle herself and try not to draw attention. Seeing her so scared stung his chest, but he had no time to comfort her.

Not when, his veins throbbed at his neck, and he did his best to suppress the raging breaths building in his lungs. "I would advise you to return my courtesy. Now."

When he spoke, his voice was a low murmur, yet everyone felt the threat behind it. He didn't know if the hand at his skull trembled from rage, fear, or both, but the orcs rising from their seats shared the displeased glance of the first.

Before they could speak, Zul'Rakhan stood in front of him. The withered shaman bowed toward the central throne, his voice solemn. "Great shaman, legendary warriors, I offer you my humblest greetings. I brought the humans as requested. He's chained, cut off from his mana—"

The great shaman cut him off with a raised palm and a nod at the warrior. "Release his head." He moved the same hand to his armrest and leaned on his fist. "I'm Grum'Thal, great shaman and leader of the last and first bastion of the orcs. Is this courteous enough for you? Yes? Let us, then, begin your trial."

As soon as the warrior released Adam's neck, Grum'Thal continued in a dramatic voice. "Everyone is to sit. Not you, Zul'Rakhan. You are our first witness. Recount your meeting with the human without forgetting what you felt."

A deep furrow cut through Adam's brow. A trial to what end? He was guilty of infiltrating their society. It was useless to lie about it once caught. Because he tampered with their ancestral ritual? After all, he was this cycle's champion. Mhh. Tricky.

His eyes darted to the solemn grimaces of the nine legendary warriors—past champions, who had proven themselves to their predecessors. Sweat instantly formed on his forehead. Tradition was their religion. No doubt about it.

Zul'Rakhan recounted their meeting with brutal accuracy. However, Adam finally understood that the shaman had been shrewder than he gave him credit for.

"I named him Adomash and he defeated Zul'Gora's champion wearing that name. As for my feelings..." A subtle shudder from Zul'Rakhan's shoulders ruffled his robes. "I felt my blood run cold, that Grash'Thul revoked his blessing on me, that a terrible beast circled my village with ravenous appetite."

"Don't exaggerate!" Adam bit his lip. "You're making my blood run cold right now, you old bastard."

Zul'Gora moved to Rakhan, nodding at Adam. "I never even felt a shred of mana from him. He did wrong, but—"

"But what?" Zul'Morak interrupted her with a snicker. "He infiltrated us with the looks of our ancestors, then ruined our ritual. I know you've enjoyed teasing him, Gora, but get over it!"

Debates erupted across the war council. For three heartbeats, everyone agreed they could not forgive Adam's transgressions. Then, Grum'Thal knocked on his skull armrest, his deep voice overpowering all the others. "Silence! The accused is not to speak until I request it. Gora, stand down. Rakhan, continue."

Zul'Rakhan bowed, the corner of his lips rising slightly. "That's what I felt before he suppressed his mana. I'm too old to play with words, great shaman; I was terrified when you asked me to meet him through my totem protector. I thought I'd see a dragon or a wyvern. Instead, he showed up with the looks of our ancestors, chained and following my men, glancing at everything with the curiosity of a kitten."

Adam's eyes widened. The totem protectors... Zul'Rakhan knew from the start and merely acted.

Grum'Thal nodded slowly, his voice softening. "You've led him through six life and death duels. Did he desecrate our ritual or fight with honor?"

"I kept him under my watch at all times, great shaman. He spent his time asking about our culture or exploring the villages. Even though he didn't follow the taunting and theatrical segments, he fought with brutality and honor worthy of the orcs. No crimes to report."

A wave of whispers flowed across the council. Adam let out a sigh. At least that wouldn't incriminate him more than he already was. Yet, the next witness Grum'Thal called for made him shudder.

"Thank you for your honesty, Rakhan. You may sit with your colleagues. Zul'Morak, we call you as our second witness."