Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World

A large number of nobles gathered in a building as grand as the palace. This was the Imperial Diet, and today was the day the State Council met.

The ministers and members of each department walked forward with solemn expressions on their faces. It seemed like they had come to discuss a very important matter.

"I'm so nervous about coming to a place like this," Josef Padilla said, rubbing his hands and laughing bitterly.

Judge Colund Emir frowned. He felt like he could directly sense the other person's ambition.

"You feel nervous when you make that expression?"

"It's a pleasant sensation. Judge Emir, can't you feel this heavy air?"

"Well…"

Colund knew it well too. Something significant was going to happen today. Otherwise, would those old raccoons be preparing for the State Council with all their heart and soul? Usually, they left everything to their aides and didn't even look at the documents.

Finally, Marquis Gilmore stood up and looked around the room.

"The State Council meeting will now begin. His Majesty the Emperor will be entering, so please adjust your attire."

Rustle. Rustle.

The lawmakers moved quickly, straightening their suits. Colund Emir observed them with renewed curiosity.

Until recently, the clothes of nobles had been adorned with all kinds of precious metals and jewels. However, since the opening of the Midias suit shop, it was no exaggeration to say that a revolution in style had occurred.

A black suit and white shirt were now the basic attire. Individuality was expressed only through small details, such as handkerchiefs and ties.

These were all changes brought about by Duke Abel Carriers.

'Even the robe…'

The cumbersome, glittering outfits were soon replaced by neat, purple robes.

Now, the solemnity of the judge seemed to come alive. Colund watched the nobles with sparkling eyes, as if experiencing a new sensation.

After a while, the emperor entered and sat down on the high seat.

"Then, let us proceed with the State Council proceedings."

"The minor details are fine, let's move on."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Since his accession to the throne, the word 'unconventional' had always followed the emperor. Of course, the Duke of Carriers evoked a similar sentiment, as he always tried something new and surprised people. But the similarities ended there.

The two had a big difference in what they considered 'good.' Abel Carriers was a man of common sense, but one could never predict what Emperor Charon would do.

Just like now.

"First item on the agenda. The southern Kingdom of Kuiret has sent a representative to seek an alliance."

"What did they offer?"

"Negotiations haven't gotten that far yet."

"Kuiret? That's a country I've never heard of."

"The name recently changed. The previous name of the country was Rhinod."

"Ah, there. Isn't that a small island nation?"

"...Yes."

"If it's a worthless proposal, I'll kick you out of the prime minister's line."

"Understood, Your Majesty."

Not a single vote was held to discuss alliances between nations. It seemed this situation was familiar, as no member of parliament expressed their opinion.

The second agenda item came up right away. Marquis Gilmore spoke with a worried expression.

"There are ominous rumors going around these days that are disturbing public sentiment."

"That's interesting. What's it about?"

"The popularity of the Supreme Court justices is said to be through the roof."

This wasn't even a discussion about national affairs—it was about someone's popularity. Yet the conference room was enveloped in a terrible silence. The emperor's previously calm expression hardened.

But Marquis Gilmore seemed undeterred. In fact, it seemed he thought this was his opportunity.

"Because public sentiment was so negative, we had to be careful about gathering information."

"So? What's the conclusion?"

"There are too many disrespectful stories circulating."

"What, are you implying treason?"

"…!"

Until now, Marquis Gilmore had been beating around the bush. It was an irreverent topic, but he was subtly implying treason.

The popularity of Abel Carriers was metaphorically suggesting a threat to the emperor's throne.

The chilly atmosphere in the conference room was reminiscent of the icy northern regions. Judge Colund Emir clutched his chest as his heart pounded in his chest.

His whole body began to feel cold as sweat poured down.

'This is madness. Absolute madness!'

Discussing treason in front of the Iron-Blooded Emperor Charon was life-threatening. One misstep, and you could face dire consequences.

But Marquis Gilmore knew how to play the political game. He never actually used the word "treason."

With a feigned bewilderment, Marquis Gilmore adjusted his statement.

"No, surely such an unacceptable thing would never be planned. As we are both members of the royal family, it seems these rumors started without reason."

Though he verbally denied it, he had successfully planted the idea that Abel Carriers had a claim to the throne.

The emperor, however, was far more cunning than Marquis Gilmore. He understood the implications immediately.

"There are people who want my cousin to take power? That's amusing."

Emperor Charon directly addressed the heart of the matter. Colund felt his face pale.

This cabinet meeting, held in place of the absent chief justice, had spiraled into madness.

He glanced to his right, seeing Judge Josef Padilla looking equally pale. But Josef's condition was likely for different reasons.

"Please don't drag me into this," Josef kept muttering under his breath, only concerned about his own survival.

Colund shook his head involuntarily. If Abel Carriers was accused of treason, his close associates would also be implicated.

As Colund briefly looked away, the members of the National Assembly began to clamor.

"Your Majesty! The Duke of Carriers' influence is truly concerning."

"I don't doubt his loyalty, but you can never truly know what is in a man's heart."

"I fear those around him may try to manipulate him."

All eyes turned to Colund and Josef. Emperor Charon also stared at them, his gaze cold enough to freeze them to their bones.

"What do you think, my juniors? Do you believe my cousin harbors ill will toward me?"