It was a place that Minaev never would have expected himself to be at. Not the part about being in a [open air] courtroom at the trial of a traitor, that he expected when he had made the decision of throwing his fate with that renegade Alex.

  No, the unexpected part is where he’s sitting: among the assembled crowd, witnessing the judgement of the justice to be handed down to the traitor, a person who had very recently almost killed the lot of them in the same name of justice that is now being handed out. As it turns out a handful of coins was enough to wash away even the sins of those who joined a traitor… or rather, 20 coins is 20 coins.

  No, it is also wrong to call it a trial. There are no trials in the land of the just. Trials means doubt, and there is certainly no doubt as the guilt of the guilty. This is a sentencing, and following it, the execution that a traitor deserves. All displayed to the crowds to cement the supremacy of the righteous.

  But then, all this has happened before and all this will happen again. As is tradition.

  “Fun show. I can see why they do it all the time.” Омич noted dryly as he shuffled next to Minaev, after having gone off earlier to do what no one knows. “I didn’t miss anything important did I?”

  “No, not really.” Minaev shrugged. “Where have you been?”

  “Just poking around some places that I shouldn’t have on behalf of our employer, nothing of any concern now.” The hooded figure replied in his usual maddening manner. “Would you believe me if I informed you of what had transpired?”

  “I believe it, but I feel I really shouldn’t ask.” Minaev said as he shrugged off the dark implications. Of the depths of depravity in the heart of the supposed just. It’s weird, that of all the things he has witnessed in the recent past, of all the truth and reality revealed to him, there’s a part of him that still tells him that he’s evil for his betrayal, and that he’s fighting against the forces of good, even though the only proof of their goodness was their declaration of such.

  Oh, and the naked use of force, which is on full display at the moment. The high judge, already deep in his rant for hours, continued unabated. As if possessing an unlimited store of energy to be used in the rage of the unhinged.

  “YOU LOUSY BASTARD! ARE YOU BREAKING APART? NO YOU CANNOT BREAK APART BECAUSE YOU ARE ALREADY NOTHING BUT A PICTURE OF MISERY! YOU KNOW NOTHING OF HEROICS! YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN RIPPED OUT OF YOUR MOTHER’S WOMB THE DAY YOU WERE CONCEIVED AND STOMPED INTO THE DIRT, BUT WE WILL RECTIFY THAT, AS GOD IS MY WITNESS!” The judge shouted. Stirring words and all that, clearly for the crowd assembled, but the sad sack of bloody pulp on the accused stand surely wasn’t in any state to comprehend or even perceive any of that. It’s hard to believe that was once a man, much less a heroic figure.

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  But all good things must come to an end, and the speech of justice by the high judge was no different. As the speech ended the pair of guards roughly grabbed the poor sack, dragged him up to the gallows, and placed the noose around his neck. Slowly the rope went up, lifting the body. It will not be a quick death, as traitors deserve not such mercies. The rags on him slowly slid off, but such were the wounds that nothing of relevance was seen, except for the wounds themselves.

  Suddenly, the rope snapped, dropping the twitching figure crashing back down to the wooden planks of the gallows. A collective gasp could be heard from the crowd. Before anything could transpire the executioner quickly dragged the body back up, threw on another noose, and pulled up the rope as if nothing happened.

  “What a miserable country, they can’t even hang their traitors correctly.” Омич muttered, of words delivered in a most clinical tone.

  Then the second rope snapped as well, dropping the sad sack of flesh and bones once again. Exasperated, and a little more than spooked, the executioner and the nearby guards took a more direct mention and began to stomp on the body. After a few minutes of that, they finally stopped, and declared:

  “THE TRAITOR IS DEAD! GLORY TO THE KING! GLORY TO THE KINGDOM!”

  And as is tradition, the declaration was met with roaring approval from the crowd. How could it be otherwise, especially when memories of those who did not still remained fresh in the memories?

  “Very nice, very nice.” Омич nodded as he clapped along before turning to Minaev. “We should probably get going. The demons will arrive soon.”

  “Say what?” Minaev replied in shock. “I know you were here for that, but we beat their ass.”

  “You guys didn’t finish the job.” Омич chuckled. “You couldn’t have. They would never have allowed you to.” The color drained from Minaev’s face, as the pieces fell together.

  It’s true, it’s all true. All this backstabbing and counter-backstabbing meant that the threat of the demonic hordes was never truly snuffed out. Something that certainly slipped from the minds of everyone.

  “But how-” He asked a question he knew not what before Омич interrupted him.

  “They’re chopping up the barrier princess down in the dungeons even as we speak- Oh, yes, you didn’t want to hear the details.” Омич explained, explaining nothing somehow in so many words.

  “Wait, what? No! That spoiled bitch is right there-” Minaev pointed at the raised platform where the royal family has been sitting and watching the execution.

  “Oh, that bitch?” Омич shook his head. “Wrong princess. I don’t know how Alex figured it out back then, but the white knight was serving the wrong princess.”

  “I don’t think the two of you were talking about the same thing.” Minaev stammered, reeling from the revelation but still got enough of his marbles to realize the gulf between the renegade and the hooded weirdo. Perhaps they might have arrived at the same conclusion, but the route they took was anything but.

  “Oh well, no matter.” Омич shrugged. “Still it is time to make our exit.” He said as he turned away. The crowd had already mostly dissipated. Minaev awkwardly followed suit.

  They had made it about a handful of miles away from the outer ring walls of the capital when the first of the plumes of flames erupted from the city.

  The demons will finally have their victory.