On the arena, swords were drawn and tensions soared.

In the audience stands, many people had yet to flee.

Among them were war correspondents from all over the world.

This group, dedicated to documenting significant events, had a rather poetic name—

New Minstrels.

The New Minstrels specialized in recording colossal occurrences that ordinary folk could never witness, spreading such events across the globe.

The Old Minstrels sang tales, relying on word of mouth, carrying epic events and heroic deeds to distant lands.

Now, the New Minstrels had joined merchant guilds, using their resources to record grand events onto paper and propagate those stories worldwide.

This paper was named the Chapter of Epic, or, simply, the newspaper.

The sword-straining standoff on stage was being chronicled by countless minstrels; all eyes watched the scene below, eagerly anticipating the mighty mages of the Ista Empire clashing with the League Committee’s people.

All the war correspondents felt this Mage League was worth coming to.

Every day brought unexpected incidents.

Even more intense than the year of war itself.

Under the tense, expectant gaze of the crowd and minstrels, the standoff on stage shifted.

Ultimately, the Committee’s mages did not clash with the Tier Five Nikodemos.

Among those present was a Tier Five Committee Mage, none other than the League President, Adrian.

The Mage League was held every four years, as was the presidency; each term, the host empire would nominate a president to oversee preparations.

So Adrian hailed from the Northern Alliance, beside serving on the Committee, he was a high-ranking Duke within the Alliance.

To an extent, his actions represented the stance of the Northern Alliance.

If he really went up against Nikodemos, that would mean...

In the end, Adrian did not choose to do so.

Even if he believed his odds of winning were high.

But he didn’t dare gamble against Nikodemos’s words.

Though the Ista Empire had fractured over centuries into five great empires and a heap of smaller states, a dead camel was still bigger than a horse, and recently, the Holy Court seemed to have reformed, with the Holy Master rumored to have broken through to the legendary Tier Seven.

He wouldn’t take that risk.

Nor was it necessary to gamble.

Still, though there was no fight, reputation must be upheld.

Adrian stared at Nikodemos, coldly remarking: "Mr. Nikodemos, you must know what this contestant is doing. This isn’t the underground arena—this is the Mage League. She acted like a lunatic, slaughtered dozens of spectators. Is the Ista Empire planning to shelter a murderer?"

"Hilia is an outstanding student of our Divine Magic Academy; her character is certified by the Holy Court, she would never harm innocent spectators. Instead of rashly condemning her, why not listen to what she has to say?"

"What justification could excuse a murderer? No matter how many explanations, even if there’s repentance or memory gaps, a murderer must face the judgment of the law!"

Nikodemos did not reply, but looked to Hilia behind him.

"Hilia, explain yourself to everyone. No need to be nervous; the Academy and the Holy Court stand behind you."

"Thank you, Mr. Nikodemos."

Hilia stepped forward, meeting Adrian head-on, her gaze fearless: "President Adrian, I’d like to ask—what do heretics and sect members count as in the Northern Alliance? If I see a heretic committing indiscriminate slaughter and I kill him, am I considered a murderer in the Northern Alliance?"

Adrian’s brow furrowed, "Are you saying those thirty-six innocent spectators you killed were so-called ’heretics’? In the Northern Alliance, even heretics have the right to repent—perhaps they were victims, beguiled and pitiful."

Hilia laughed: "So what you mean is, even if heretics murder at will, seeking to kill thousands of innocents, they retain the right to repent. Yet if I kill them to save thousands, I become a murderer to be judged—regardless of my repentance?"

Adrian was speechless.

A Tier Four mage asked, "How did you determine they were all heretics? They had no power to resist your magic—how could they possibly harm over a thousand spectators?"

Hilia looked at him as if he were an idiot, mocking: "You took part in the thawing operation, didn’t you? Tell me, if the people frozen in the last moments hadn’t melted suddenly, how many could you have saved? Surely you don’t think the sudden thaw was caused by a lack of magic power for natural melting? If you believe that, I suggest you see a doctor... Oh, the doctor might be disappointed, since there’s clearly nothing in your head."

Adrian raised a hand, stopping the enraged Tier Four mage. He looked to Hilia, speaking coolly: "Miss Xilia, words are pointless. What we require is evidence."

"Evidence is simple. This is an array called [Universal Freeze], derived from Tier Four magic [Universal Freeze]. If you have an Array Master, review the three I threw out and the thirty-six I killed—you’ll see they formed the core nodes of the array. Destroying these would lift the array’s effects."

When Hilia finished, she saw everyone exchanging bewildered looks, and was slightly surprised: "Seriously? No one on your Committee understands arrays? No wonder heretics brazenly use cultists as array nodes—they never worry you might break their arrays."

Everyone’s faces flushed bright red, but none dared retort.

Because, indeed, they knew nothing of arrays.

The rune design for large arrays was completely different from the micro-runes used in magic puppets and magic guide devices; plenty here understood puppet runes, but not arrays.

After all, magic cast onto puppets relies on storing the spell in a core for the Heart of the Magic Puppet to read out. The way the puppet’s heart reads the core differs entirely from how arrays cast spells.

"Surely you’ve recorded the entire freezing process. Later, find an Array Master and ask whether the nodes I dealt with were array break points. If, after verifying, you still need someone to blame, I have nothing more to say."

Because the Committee’s interference nearly ruined the rescue, Hilia had no sympathy at all for these Northern Alliance folks.

If not for her unwillingness to watch so many die thanks to the Committee’s obstruction, she wouldn’t even have asked Rose to intervene. Just let everyone die and then ask the Committee how it feels.

She was only a Tier Three mage—she had no obligation to act. Even if countless died, it would be the Committee’s fault, not hers, unlike now, when just a handful of unlucky ones and those thirty-six heretics died, but the blame somehow shifted onto her.

Hilia did not regret her actions.

Because she was acknowledged by the Gods.

Pure, kind, amiable, talented, bound by divine contract—the Holy Daughter.

Watching people die in front of her and making snide remarks may feel good to others, but it was not her way.

Even if... it meant placing herself at the heart of a storm.

Fortunately, her Academy supported her, shouldering the Committee’s pressure and giving her the chance to explain.

The young woman looked up, gazing beyond the stage.

The four of Benovia were leading the three thrown-out heretics over, under the protection of their mentors.

Hilia exchanged a smile with the other candidate Holy Daughters.

"If President Adrian truly cannot find an Array Master to verify, he can always ask these three key heretics—see if they are indeed so, and what their plan was."