The Extra's Rise

The Imperial Tribunal Chamber was a monument to justice and political theater in equal measure—a vast hall designed to accommodate not just the seven magistrates who would determine my fate, but the Empire's most influential nobles whose presence transformed this trial into a spectacle that would define imperial politics for generations. As I was escorted to the defendant's position, I noted representatives from every major noble house seated in the gallery, their expressions ranging from curiosity to carefully controlled concern.

Emperor Quinn Slatemark presided over the proceedings from an elevated throne that emphasized both his authority and his supposed impartiality. To his right sat the seven magistrates who would actually render judgment, while to his left, a section had been reserved for magical experts and imperial scholars whose testimony might prove relevant to charges of demonic contamination.

"The Imperial Tribunal will now hear the case of suspected demonic contamination against Guild Grandmaster Arthur Nightingale," announced the Chief Magistrate, his voice carrying clearly through the chamber's enhanced acoustics. "The accused stands charged with demonic contamination, possible collaboration with hostile supernatural entities, and endangering imperial security through concealment of dangerous influences."

My legal counsel—a team of the Empire's finest advocates—had been given less than twelve hours to prepare a defense against charges that carried the potential for exile or execution. They sat at a table beside me, their expressions professionally composed despite the obvious impossibility of their task.

"The prosecution will present its evidence," the Chief Magistrate continued, gesturing toward where Jack Blazespout stood with a team of imperial prosecutors. "Lord Jack Blazespout, as the primary witness and victim of the alleged attack, you may proceed."

Jack rose with the kind of confident grace that had always characterized his public appearances, dressed in formal attire that emphasized both his noble status and his role as an injured party seeking justice. His performance over the next hour was nothing short of masterful.

"Honorable Magistrates," Jack began, his voice carrying the perfect combination of wounded dignity and civic responsibility, "it pains me to stand before this tribunal with evidence against someone I once considered a colleague and fellow student. But the security of our Empire demands that truth be revealed, regardless of personal considerations."

What followed was a systematic presentation of evidence so comprehensive and damning that I found myself genuinely impressed by the depth of Jack's preparation. Magical detection readings showed clear traces of demonic miasma in my system. Witnesses testified to the destructive magical combat that had occurred in the palace meeting room. Expert analysis of the energy signatures confirmed the presence of corruption that could only come from prolonged exposure to demonic influences.

"Furthermore," Jack continued, producing what appeared to be historical documents, "investigation into Grandmaster Nightingale's rapid rise to power reveals patterns consistent with supernatural enhancement. No purely human mage could have achieved Peak Ascendant-rank capabilities at his age without external assistance."

My legal team attempted to challenge various pieces of evidence, but their objections were systematically overruled or countered with additional documentation. Jack had anticipated every possible line of defense and prepared responses that made my advocates appear incompetent rather than merely outmatched.

"The magical resonance patterns detected during our confrontation," Jack explained to a panel of expert witnesses, "indicate that Grandmaster Nightingale has been corrupted for months, possibly years. The sophistication of the concealment suggests long-term collaboration with entities that specialize in hiding demonic influences from conventional detection."

Throughout this systematic destruction of my reputation and legal position, I remained seated calmly at the defendant's table, showing no sign of distress or desperation despite the mounting evidence against me. My composed demeanor seemed to puzzle both the magistrates and the assembled nobles—most accused individuals facing such overwhelming evidence would be visibly struggling to maintain their composure.

"In conclusion," Jack said with obvious satisfaction as he surveyed the tribunal chamber, "the evidence clearly demonstrates that Arthur Nightingale has been corrupted by demonic influences, poses a direct threat to imperial security, and must be dealt with according to the full severity of imperial law."

The silence that followed was heavy with political implications. Everyone present understood that convicting the Guild Grandmaster of demonic collaboration would reshape the Empire's economic structure, create massive instability, and potentially trigger conflicts that could spread beyond imperial borders.

"Does the defense wish to present evidence or testimony?" the Chief Magistrate asked, though his tone suggested he considered the outcome already determined.

My lead advocate rose with obvious reluctance. "Your Honor, given the... comprehensive nature of the prosecution's case, the defense requests a brief recess to—"

"That won't be necessary," I said clearly, rising from my seat for the first time since the trial began. "I have evidence that will definitively resolve all questions about my innocence or guilt."

The surprised murmur that rippled through the chamber reflected the shock everyone felt at my confident interruption. Jack's expression shifted from satisfaction to curiosity, though he maintained his composure with practiced ease.

"What evidence could possibly counter the documented proof of demonic contamination?" Jack asked with obvious amusement. "The magical readings are undeniable, the expert analysis is conclusive, and—"

"The evidence," I said with a smile that made Jack's confidence falter slightly, "is that demonic corruption is impossible for someone like me."

"Your Honor," Jack said quickly, "the defendant is clearly attempting to delay proceedings with—"

His words were cut off as the air in the center of the chamber began to shimmer with golden light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The temperature rose noticeably as magical energy of a purity and power that most people had never experienced began to manifest in the space between the magistrates and the defendant's table.

And then Luna appeared.

Not in the child-like form she had usually maintained, but in her true manifestation as one of the most ancient and powerful guardian spirits in existence. Her amethyst hair cascaded down her back in waves that seemed to contain actual starlight, while her golden eyes held wisdom accumulated over millennia of guiding human civilization. She was beautiful in a way that transcended mere physical appearance—the kind of ethereal perfection that made everyone present understand they were witnessing something genuinely divine.

Luna materialized directly behind me, her arms wrapping around my shoulders in an embrace that spoke to bonds forged over years of shared purpose and mutual trust. Her presence radiated such pure magical energy that the demonic miasma in my system began retreating automatically, unable to coexist with her overwhelming sanctity.

"I am Luna," she announced, her voice carrying harmonics that resonated through the chamber with supernatural clarity, "and Arthur Nightingale is my chosen contractor and the future Emperor of the World."

The complete silence that followed was broken only by the sound of several nobles rising from their seats in shock. Emperor Quinn himself leaned forward with obvious amazement, while the magistrates stared with expressions that cycled through disbelief, awe, and growing understanding.

"One thousand years ago," Luna continued, her golden eyes surveying the assembled tribunal with ancient authority, "I guided Julius Slatemark in founding this very Empire. I have returned to guide another human in protecting not just the Slatemark territories, but all of human civilization from the threats that gather in darkness."

She turned her gaze directly toward Jack, who had gone pale with obvious shock and growing terror as he realized the full implications of her revelation.

"No human bonded to a qilin can be corrupted by demonic influences," Luna declared with finality that made the chamber's magical detection systems chime in harmonious confirmation. "The presence of miasma in Arthur's system is proof of external contamination, not internal corruption. Someone with access to sophisticated demonic magic has attempted to frame an innocent man."

I looked directly at Jack, noting how his confident facade was crumbling as he grappled with the impossibility of arguing against a qilin's testimony. The same magical detection systems that had condemned me now confirmed Luna's presence and validated every word she spoke.

Checkmate.