MTLNOVEL Chapter 445: Not a Good Day to Get Cocky
Warlock Ch 445. Not a Good Day to Get Cocky
Damian didn't speak. He didn't need to. The sick, familiar weight that pressed against his chest already told him everything. He could see it in the posture of the lead mages, the puffed-up shoulders of the armored knights, the arrogance dripping from their aura like spoiled wine.
They weren't here for negotiation.
They were here to accuse.
The convoy halted just a few paces from the ceremonial grounds.
A voice rang out. Clear. Commanding. A woman in flowing emerald robes, adorned with the sigil of the Grand Tribunal—a balanced scale entwined with burning vines. Her expression was tight. Her eyes cold.
"Damian Blackthorn," she called, "You are hereby summoned to stand trial for your crimes against the Magus Accord, the Tribunal, and all sanctified peoples of the allied territories. Surrender yourself peacefully and you will be granted an unbiased trial."
Damian raised a brow. "Unbiased. Right."
Another man stepped forward, older, heavyset, with silver pauldrons and a mage seal tattooed directly into his skin. "You are also accused of summoning forbidden entities, conspiring with dark races, and aiding the destruction of classified Tribunal structures. And you, Aria Brightlight—"
Aria sighed. Loudly.
"—you are charged with betrayal of the Magus Order and unlawful allegiance to Kaelan Voidweaver, now deceased, and his successor. Which would be him." He jabbed a finger in Damian's direction like it offended him to do so.
Cassius made a sound halfway between a cough and a growl. "They're doing it again…"
Evelyn's fists clenched. "Fifty years. They're still using the same damn playbook."
Victoria stepped in, tone sharpened like a blade on glass. "You interrupt a funeral to accuse a man who just saved this city?" She gestured to the still-glowing tree behind them, to the half-settled ash, to the crowd of mourning civilians and fae warriors. "This is a sacred rite."
The Tribunal mage woman didn't flinch. "Which could easily have been a distraction. Blackthorn is known for manipulation."
The fae king narrowed his glowing eyes. "You dare speak like this in front of the tree of passage? You insult the dead with your presence."
The woman turned slightly. "And yet the living are in danger so long as he walks free."
Lysandra gave a low, dangerous chuckle. "Dangerous?" She stepped forward slowly, each footfall heavy, deliberate, armored claws biting the stone beneath her. "You mistake power for threat. You mistake truth for sedition. And most importantly…"
She smiled, a predator's grin, her wings flaring just slightly. "You mistake who should be running."
A few of the Tribunal guards stepped back instinctively.
Still, the leading woman remained steady. "We have orders. We will enforce them."
Damian finally moved. Just one step forward. Calm. Composed. The wind lifted his coat slightly, brushing past the ash-stained ground.
"You can deliver your threats later," he said, voice quiet. "We haven't finished the rites."
"You've had enough time," one of the tribunal knights snapped. "This is delaying justice."
Aria stepped beside Damian, her expression unreadable. "We honor the dead. Even those you don't see fit to remember."
"Refusal to comply will be considered hostile," the emerald-robed woman said flatly. "You must face the Grand Tribunal now."
Selena stepped forward, mouth drawn in a hard line. "You think dragging chains to a graveyard will make your case stronger?"
Cedric added, voice low but firm, "He rebuilt this city. We stand with him."
The Tribunal mages didn't move.
The silence that followed wasn't peaceful.
It was the silence before a match struck fire.
Lysandra let out a long breath. "Tell me one thing. Before I break every ward in your convoy. Do you actually think we'd let you take him?"
The mage hesitated.
And Damian lifted a hand—calm, still—not for violence. Just a small motion.
"Not yet," he said softly. "Let them posture. Let them write their warnings."
He turned to the tree. To the ashes beneath.
"We finish this rite first. Then they can try their luck."
Aria nodded beside him, voice as calm and radiant as ever. "We honor our dead. And if you truly believe in justice… you'll wait."
The Tribunal members shifted uncomfortably.
Finally, the emerald-robed mage spoke again. Her tone less commanding now. More cautious.
"You will come with us when this ends?"
Damian didn't answer. He didn't have to.
His silence, surrounded by dragons, fae, vampires, and the people of Haven who now knew the truth—that silence said enough.
Cassius crossed his arms, muttering just loud enough, "They came looking for a villain. I hope they brought a mirror."
Victoria smiled faintly.
And the final petals fell from the tree.
The rite was done.
And next?
Well…
The moment hung heavy like the last drop of rain before a storm.
The wind had quieted. The graveyard shimmered faintly from residual mana, and the silence that followed was the kind that didn't belong in cemeteries—it belonged in courtrooms. In wars. In turning points.
Damian didn't move right away. Neither did Aria. They stood side by side beneath the glowing moonwood tree, watching as the tribunal mages slowly stepped forward with that same smug air of authority. The kind that made him want to punch something, or someone, preferably in the mouth.
"We appreciate your cooperation," the lead tribunal mage said, like her words weren't dipped in ice and superiority. "Now, if you would kindly present yourselves for binding—"
"No," Damian said. Just like that.
The wind shifted, subtle but sharp.
Aria tilted her head slightly, expression still calm but her aura tightening like a bowstring. "We'll go. But not in chains."
The tribunal woman blinked. "That's not negotiable—"
"We're not fugitives," Damian cut in, voice low but firm. "We go of our own will. Try to bind me, and you'll see how fast that peace collapses."
The tribunal mage opened her mouth like she had a rebuttal queued up—only for her eyes to flick nervously toward Lysandra's massive, armored frame.
Yeah. Not a good day to get cocky.