Orengeflame
patreon
Bonus: DW DXD Future Chapter ??? Part 3
🕑 Added 2025-10-25 03:30:45 +0000 UTCThe next day.
Morning sunlight spilled over the half-ruined town, turning the soot-stained rooftops golden. Smoke from dying fires curled lazily into the blue sky. The sounds of hammering, sawing, and shouted instructions echoed through the streets as the villagers worked to rebuild what had been destroyed.
And right in the middle of it all with his sleeves rolled up, sweat glistening on his forehead, stood Issei, hammer in hand, cheerfully driving nails into the frame of a half-finished wall.
Each swing was strong and steady as the nails sank perfectly with each blow. Nearby, two men strained to lift a heavy beam. Until Issei casually walked over, hefted it up with one arm, and set it neatly into place as if it weighed nothing at all.
It was while he was working that several villagers froze mid-motion, watching in a mix of awe and panic.
“Th-That’s our lord…” One whispered, voice trembling.
“The Red Dragon Emperor… carrying wood…” Another muttered, eyes wide.
Before long, almost the entire work crew had stopped what they were doing. Hammers hung mid-air. Shovels dropped. All eyes turned toward the young man working with such casual strength, completely unaware of the attention he was drawing.
Then, a young villager finally found his courage and spoke up.
“Milord!” He called, bowing quickly. “Y-You don’t have to do this! We can handle the work ourselves!”
Issei paused mid-swing, glancing over his shoulder in confusion. “Huh? Why not? Am I doing a bad job?”
Panic rippled through the crowd.
“N-No, of course not!” The young man stammered, waving his hands. “You’re incredible, actually! You’re better than any of us!”
“Truly your talent is second to none!” Someone else blurted.
Then another man spoke up. “It’s just that… Well, you shouldn’t dirty your hands with this kind of labor! You’re our lord, the hero who saved us!”
Issei blinked, genuinely confused by the outburst. Then he gave a small laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, that’s what you meant. Thanks for the compliment—but come on, don’t be silly.”
He rested the hammer on the ground and looked around at the gathered workers. “Everyone needs to do their part, right? Whether you’re a farmer, a soldier, or an emperor. If we're rebuilding this place, then we’re doing it together.” His words hit harder than any hammer blow.
Silence lingered for a moment. Then murmurs began to spread through the crowd, soft but full of emotion.
“He’s willing to help us himself…”
“Our lord doesn’t think he’s above us…”
“What a kind lord…”
Even those who had been skeptical before now looked at him with renewed admiration. To them, their lord wasn’t just powerful—he was one of them.
Unaware of the emotional effect he’d caused, Issei just grinned and went back to hammering. “Now quit standing around, everyone! The sooner we finish, the sooner we can eat!”
The villagers exchanged glances—and then burst into laughter and cheers. Tools lifted again, shouts filled the air, and work resumed with twice the energy as before.
The rhythm of hammers and saws filled the air again as everyone returned to their work. The clatter of construction echoed through the streets. Though at first hesitant, the villagers had come to accept that their lord was truly among them, sharing their burden as if he were just another pair of hands.
But the peace of morning didn’t last.
A sharp voice cut through the noise. “My Lord!—My Lord, where are you?!”
Heads turned as the sound of hooves thundered across the muddy street. Aisha, mounted on her brown steed, was galloping through the town square with urgency written all over her face. Behind her, Rinrin followed close, clinging to the reins of her smaller horse and shouting something muffled by the wind.
Issei looked up from the half-finished wall he’d been nailing together. “Huh? That sounded like—Aisha!” He then waved one arm high. “Over here!”
Aisha’s golden eyes widened the instant she spotted him. She pulled sharply on her reins, the horse skidding to a halt beside him as she dismounted in one smooth motion. Without a word, she hurried over and began inspecting him from head to toe, her expression tight with worry.
“Thank the heavens, you’re unharmed!” she breathed out, a hand over her chest. “Where were you? When I woke in the house the townsfolk lent us, your room was empty. I feared something had happened!”
Issei blinked at her in confusion before realizing the misunderstanding. “Oh—ah, sorry about that. I just woke up early. Heard the townsfolk already working and figured I should pitch in.”
Aisha exhaled deeply, shoulders slumping in relief. “Haaah… I see. Forgive me, My Lord. I— I was worried.”
Before the tension could settle, Rinrin rode up behind her, laughing sheepishly. “You should’ve seen her, Onii-chan! The moment Aneja didn’t find you in your bed, she thought you skipped town!”
Aisha’s eyes went wide. “Rinrin!” she snapped, face flushing. “How dare you say such a thing! I would never think so low of our Lord!”
“Ehhh? I was joking!” Rinrin yelped, pouting.
Issei chuckled, scratching his head. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Sorry for making you two worry.” He glanced at the nearby workers. “Anyway, if that’s all, I should get back to helping the others—”
“Please wait, My Lord,” Aisha said quickly, stepping in front of him. Her tone shifted from relief to a commanding presence. “There are far more urgent matters that require your attention.”
Issei stopped mid-step, blinking. “Urgent? Like what?”
She straightened, already listing points in her usual calm, efficient tone. “First, we must begin formal conscription. We have no official army to defend ourselves. Second, we must secure real weapons and horses. The townsfolk, our people fought bravely, but they cannot face a trained force with farming tools. And third, this town lacks defenses. If another force attacks, we’ll be overrun before the alarm sounds. We need walls, order, and a chain of command.”
Her words were crisp, logical, and precise, the marks of a soldier and strategist.
But Issei only sighed, rubbing his temple. “Yeah, that all sounds important… but not right now.”
Aisha blinked. “...Not right now?”
“I mean,” He said, lowering the hammer he still held, “look around, Aisha. Half these people still don’t have homes. They’re sleeping under broken roofs or in burned-out shops. Before we talk about armies, we should make sure everyone at least has a bed and a roof over their heads.”
Aisha hesitated, frowning slightly as she glanced at the villagers working in the ruins.
“And after that,” Issei continued, “we’ve got another problem — food. Even if we brought back what the Yellow Turbans stole, their attack burned most of the crops. The town won’t last through the next season. We’ll need to replant everything and help the farmers regrow what they lost.”
He looked up at her with steady eyes. “There’s too much to fix for us to worry about building an army right now.”
“But, My Lord,” Aisha said firmly, “if we delay the formation of our army, we will be defenseless. The enemy could strike again at any moment.”
Issei frowned, thinking. For a moment, only the wind and the faint clang of hammers filled the silence. Then, two familiar voices echoed in his mind.
(Partner, she has a point. But you also have yours.) Ddraig’s deep rumble carried a hint of amusement.
“I suggest dividing the labor, Master,” Sherri added calmly. “Efficiency is key. You cannot do everything alone.”
Issei’s eyes brightened as the idea clicked. ‘Yeah… you’re right.’
He turned back to Aisha. “Alright, how about this, we’ll split the work. I’ll focus on helping the townsfolk rebuild and restore the food supply. Meanwhile, you and Rinrin handle forming an army. Training, structure, recruitment, whatever you need to do, I’ll trust you with it.”
Aisha blinked, momentarily taken aback. “You would… entrust that to us entirely?”
“Of course.” He smiled lightly. “I have no idea how to build an army. You and Rinrin clearly do, so it’s better to leave it in your hands.”
For a second, she just stared at him then bowed deeply, her hand over her chest. “Understood, My Lord. I shall not fail your trust.”
Rinrin gave a sharp salute from her saddle. “Leave it to us, Onii-chan! We’ll make an army that’ll scare every bad guy for miles!”
Issei laughed softly. “I’m counting on you both.”
As the two women mounted their horses again, Aisha looked back once more, her expression softening as she watched him lift a wooden beam for another house. ‘He truly is… a different kind of ruler.’
—---------------------------------
On the open field just beyond the broken town walls, Aisha stood tall before a small line of volunteers. There were just over a hundred of them from different backgrounds, farmers, hunters, carpenters, and even a few traveling merchants who’d decided to stay after the battle. Some were even the men that had joined them from last night's battle. Their faces were a mix of nervousness, excitement and their weapons were mismatched: some carried old swords, others sticks, a few held nothing but determination.
Aisha’s golden eyes scanned them with sharp precision. Though the number was small, she could see potential in their posture, their eyes, and the way they stood despite exhaustion.
“Stand straight!” She commanded, her voice ringing across the field like a blade.
The men and women immediately adjusted their stance, some fumbling, others trying not to shake.
“You are no longer simple villagers,” She said firmly. “From this day forward, you are the Red Dragon Emperor’s Shield. You are the wall that will protect your homes, your families, and your lord!”
Her words carried weight, slicing through hesitation. Even Rinrin, standing at her side with her arms crossed, felt her chest swell with pride.
“That means discipline!” Aisha continued. “There will be no complaining, no slacking. If you have the strength to speak, you have the strength to fight! Understood?”
“YES, MA’AM!” Came the uneven but spirited reply.
Rinrin grinned, leaning in toward Aisha. “Heh, Aneja sounds scary today.”
Aisha shot her a sidelong glance. “This is training, Rinrin. They must learn the seriousness of battle.”
“Right, right. But if they all run away after the first day, we’ll have no soldiers!” Rinrin replied cheerfully, turning to the recruits. “Alright everyone! If Aneja’s yelling scares you, just remember, she’s only scary because she cares! She yells at me all the time!”
A ripple of laughter ran through the ranks, the tension breaking for just a moment.
Aisha sighed but couldn’t help a faint smile. “...And that is why you are in charge of morale.”
“Ehehe~” Rinrin beamed, twirling her spear before slamming the butt into the ground. “Alright, everyone! Let’s start simple! Form lines, follow my lead, and don’t trip over your own feet!”
The day carried on with grueling physical training. Aisha demonstrated basic stances and formations, her voice sharp and commanding as she corrected posture after posture. Rinrin darted among the recruits, encouraging them with her usual energy.
“Good, good! Don’t just swing your sword like you’re swatting flies!” she called.
“Keep your back straight! Yes, like that! You look awesome!”
Though they had only a hundred trainees, Aisha treated them as if they were a thousand. Her focus was absolute; every motion, every breath mattered. And though Rinrin’s methods were far more relaxed, her laughter and encouragement kept the recruits moving long after exhaustion set in.
By midday, the sound of synchronized stomps and unified shouts began to echo across the field. It wasn’t perfect — far from it — but it was a beginning.
Watching them, Aisha crossed her arms and allowed herself a small, rare smile. “Not bad for the first day.”
Rinrin puffed out her chest. “Told you they’d be great! We just need to train them every day! They’ll be super strong in no time!”
Aisha nodded. “Let us hope so. For their sake — and for our Lord’s.”
—----------------------------------
Farm Lands
Meanwhile, Issei found himself far from the training grounds, where the earth stretched wide and dark, the farmland that fed the town.
He arrived to find several farmers already at work, their bodies moving in steady rhythm as they struggled to plow the damaged fields. Many of the furrows were still blackened from fire. The smell of ash clung stubbornly to the soil.
The moment the farmers spotted him, they froze mid-motion. Then, almost as one, they dropped their tools and bowed deeply.
“L-Lord Red Dragon!” One stammered. “Forgive us! We didn’t expect—”
Issei quickly waved his hands. “Whoa, whoa! Stop that! You don’t have to bow to me!”
The farmers hesitated, glancing at each other in confusion. “B-But, Milord—”
“I’m not here to inspect or scold anyone,” Issei said with a grin. “I’m here to help.”
“...Help?”
“Yeah. You’re plowing the field, right? Then hand me one of those hoes.”
The men looked at one another as if they’d misheard. One nervously handed him the tool, certain the lord was just trying to be polite.
“Show me which field still needs work,” Issei said. “I’ll start there.”
“M-My Lord, that’s not necessary!” One farmer protested. “We can manage on our own—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Issei interrupted, planting the hoe firmly into the ground. “I could use the exercise. Just tell me where.”
Reluctantly, the farmers pointed to a large untouched section of land further down the slope.
They fully expected to have to clean up after him, nobles and high-ranking folk didn’t know the first thing about real farm work. Some even whispered that they’d have to redo it later, so they didn’t lose time.
But when Issei stepped into the field and swung the hoe, their words died in their throats.
Crack—
The soil split cleanly. Another swing followed, and another. The rhythm was perfect, fluid, precise, and efficient.
Issei moved like someone who’d done this before, his body flowing with natural power. The hardened earth that took three men to till gave way with a single motion. Within minutes, he had covered more ground than half the farmers combined.
The onlookers could only gape.
“He’s… actually doing it with ease…”
“By the heavens, he’s faster than our oxen…”
Issei wiped a bit of sweat from his forehead and smiled. “See? Nothing to it! If we keep this pace, we’ll get the whole field done by sundown!”
The farmers stared at each other, speechless then burst into laughter and cheers, their fatigue forgotten. One man dropped his shovel and joined him, then another, until the entire field was alive with renewed vigor.
—---------------------------
The sun was already sinking behind the hills when a young villager came running down the dirt path, panting heavily. His voice carried across the field.
“Lord Hyoudou! Dinner’s ready! Everyone’s waiting for you!”
Issei paused mid-swing, wiping sweat from his brow. “Food?” He asked, perking up instantly.
The messenger nodded, bending slightly to catch his breath. “Y-Yes, milord! The cooks have prepared a great feast for tonight! They said it’s time to eat!”
“Nice! I’m starving!” Issei said with a wide grin. He looked over to the farmers still working beside him. “Alright, everyone! You heard him, take a break! Let’s go eat together!”
The farmers blinked, exchanging uncertain looks. “With… you, milord?” One asked hesitantly.
“Of course,” Issei said, slinging the hoe over his shoulder. “You’ve all been working hard all day, and I’m not eating if the rest of you don’t.”
The farmers’ faces lit up with disbelief. Soon enough, they dropped their tools at their homes and followed him up the path toward town.
—----------------------------
By the time they reached the central square, the air was thick with the smell of roasted meat and simmering broth. Several large pots bubbled over makeshift fires, tended by housewives and mothers who were laughing as they stirred. Tables had been set up along the street, and children ran between them, carrying baskets of vegetables or helping pour water.
The moment the villagers spotted Issei approaching, they froze — and then, almost as one, bowed low to the ground.
“Lord Hyoudou!” They chorused.
Issei nearly tripped over himself. “Ah! No, no, stop that right now!” he said, waving his hands frantically. “You don’t have to bow every time you see me! We’re just here to eat!”
The villagers smiled awkwardly, still bowing anyway, and only sat back down once he moved toward the table.
A long wooden table stood in the center, already set with steaming dishes of stew, roasted fish, and freshly baked bread. Aisha sat to one side, posture straight and dignified despite her dusty armor, while Rinrin was half-slumped in her chair, groaning dramatically.
“Ahh, my arms hurt! My legs hurt! Everything hurts!” Rinrin whined. “Aneja, why do we have to run so much on the first day?!”
“Because,” Aisha replied calmly, “you told the recruits they could become strong in no time. Therefore, it would be improper if you yourself were not an example of endurance.”
“That’s unfair logic!” Rinrin protested, puffing her cheeks.
Issei laughed as he took his seat between them. “Sounds like you two had quite the day.”
Aisha nodded. “Yes, My Lord. The first day of training concluded with a hundred recruits successfully learning basic formations and drills. They are unrefined but eager. I intend to assign squads and captains tomorrow.”
“That’s great,” Issei said, smiling proudly. “You’re doing amazing work, Aisha. And you too, Rinrin.”
“Ehehe… I know~” Rinrin said, perking up as a plate of dumplings was placed in front of her. “Onii-chan, try these! The aunties made them special!”
“Don’t mind if I do!” Issei said eagerly.
The villagers nearby quickly began serving him, bringing dish after dish to the table. Some were simple, just stew or rice but they were made with genuine gratitude.
“Thank you, everyone,” Issei said sincerely. “This looks amazing.”
As he ate, the laughter of the townsfolk surrounded them. But the warmth didn’t last forever.
Halfway through the meal, Aisha placed her chopsticks down with a soft clack. Her expression turned grave.
“My Lord,” she said quietly. “There are many matters we must discuss, regarding the Yellow Turban prisoners.”
Issei froze, mid-bite. “The prisoners…?”
“Yes,” Aisha continued. “We have nearly a thousand in custody, all captured after the battle. Many are the soldiers you personally defeated. They remain bound and under guard, but we cannot keep them imprisoned indefinitely. They must either be judged, released, or put to use in some way.”
“...A thousand?” Issei murmured, eyes widening. In all his exhaustion from the day’s labor, he had nearly forgotten about them.
“They are being held in the southern camp under watch,” Aisha added. “So far, none have attempted escape. But we must decide what to do with them soon. The people are already whispering with many talking about revenge.”
Issei leaned back, rubbing his temples. “Yeah… I guess I can’t just ignore that. Damn.”
Then Aisha’s tone softened slightly, but her eyes remained serious. “There’s also another group we need to address, the prisoners we rescued from the Yellow Turbans.”
The air around the table changed. Even Rinrin stopped eating.
Issei’s hands tightened into fists as he remembered. “...Right.”
He didn’t need to ask what she meant. He could still see them in his mind, the people the Yellow Turbans had taken, hidden away in wagons and tents. The broken expressions. The hollow stares. The fear.
Many were women, some from this very town that they thankfully rescued in time, but the others from villages far beyond. Most were scarred by cruelty, their spirits as battered as their bodies.
“Some of them are still too frightened to speak,” Aisha said softly. “Especially the women. They shrink back from any man who approaches.”
The sound of laughter and cooking in the background seemed to fade into nothing.
Issei’s gaze darkened, his knuckles whitening. “Those bastards…” he muttered, the old fury bubbling beneath his calm tone. “Even after everything, they still make me mad.” He stopped, catching himself before his anger boiled over.
Aisha looked at him carefully. “My Lord… what shall we do? Both with the captives and the victims?”
For a long moment, Issei didn’t speak. His mind turned, weighing mercy against justice, anger against compassion.
(You’re thinking too much again, Partner.) Ddraig’s rumbling tone carried that familiar mix of patience and bluntness. (The answer’s clear. Those men slaughtered the weak and defiled the innocent. They’ve already chosen their path. End them and be done with it.)
Issei’s jaw tightened. ‘You’re saying I should just… kill them all?’
(That’s mercy compared to what they’ve done.) Ddraig’s voice grew firmer, tinged with something colder. (Do you truly think they deserve redemption? After what you saw? After what those women endured? There’s no place for beasts like them in the world you’re trying to build.)
Before he could respond, another voice entered — calm, clear, and precise.
“Master.” Sherri’s tone was gentle but unyielding. “That path, while emotionally satisfying, will only plant seeds of fear. The townsfolk look up to you not as a conqueror, but as a protector. If you execute them all without judgment, they will begin to see you as the very thing you swore not to be.”
Issei rubbed his temple, his heart caught between the two extremes. ‘Then what do I do, Sherri? Let them go? Pretend none of it happened?’
“No.” Her voice softened. “You give them what no one else ever gave them — fairness. Some will not deserve forgiveness, that much is certain. But others… may have been forced, coerced, or misled. You must let the truth surface. The people must see you seek justice, not vengeance.”
(Tch. Justice won’t bring back the lives they ruined.) Ddraig grumbled, his tone skeptical. (But… fine. It’s your choice, Partner. Just remember, mercy without strength invites chaos.)
‘I know…’ Issei murmured inwardly. ‘But I can’t just kill them. That’s not me and maybe Sherri is right and I should hear them out.’
He exhaled deeply and looked up, meeting Aisha’s watchful gaze across the table.
“Aisha,” he said suddenly, setting his bowl aside.
“Yes, My Lord?” she responded, instantly attentive.
“I want you to gather a small group,” Issei said firmly. “Go to where the prisoners are being held. I need names, ages, and details of every crime they committed, especially the ones who attacked this town.”
Aisha blinked but quickly nodded. “You wish to identify them individually?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “After that, we’ll hold a live trial. Once I’ve heard what they’ve done, all of it from each prisoner then we’ll decide their fate. Not before.”
Her golden eyes softened with respect. “Understood. You seek to judge them in full view of the people. A wise decision, My Lord.”
“I don’t know about wise,” Issei said, forcing a small smile. “But if I’m going to lead these people, I need them to see that I’m not above them. Everyone deserves to face the truth — even the guilty.”
Aisha rose from her seat and bowed deeply. “Then I shall carry out your will at once.”
Rinrin glanced between them, wide-eyed. “You mean you’re really going to put them all on trial, Onii-chan?”
“Yeah,” he said, standing up. “If they’re guilty, they’ll pay for what they’ve done. But if even one person was dragged into that mess without choice… I need to know.”
Aisha gave a proud, approving nod. “Your compassion honors both Heaven and Earth. I’ll begin preparations immediately.”
With that, she excused herself from the table, her long dark hair swaying as she strode into the night, several of the newly trained guards following her.
Issei watched her go, a mix of determination and uncertainty in his chest.
Rinrin looked at him curiously. “You think that’ll really help?”
“I don’t know,” Issei admitted quietly. “But it’s better than letting anger decide everything.” Then, in a quiet voice that carried more resolve than heat, he said, “We can’t abandon either group. The ones who did this… they’ll answer for it. But the others… we’ll help them recover. No matter how long it takes.”
He sat back down, letting out a tired breath. The stars above glimmered faintly in the night sky, their light reflecting in his eyes.
—------------------------------
The next day
The following morning arrived bright and warm. The sun’s light poured over the recovering town, illuminating the sounds of saws, hammers, and rebuilding. Life was returning, slowly but surely. And at the center of it all, as usual, was Issei.
He was moving wooden beams twice the size of a normal man, balancing them on his shoulder like they weighed nothing. The sight drew attention from everyone nearby, the workers stopped mid-swing, gawking as their young lord walked by with effortless strength, setting down heavy planks and crates as if they were toys.
“Is he… human?” One villager whispered.
“He’s stronger than ten of us combined…” Another murmured, his jaw slack.
“Of course not, remember the lord is a Heavenly Dragon. That decided to live amongst us lowly humans.”
Issei chuckled when he noticed their stares. “Hey, hey, don’t just stand there! These things aren’t gonna fix themselves!”
The crowd quickly snapped back to work, though the awe in their eyes didn’t fade. Even after 3 days together, they still couldn’t quite get used to their lord doing the work of ten men, while being so humble and doing it with a smile.
“My Lord!”
The familiar voice of Aisha called out, clear and formal even as she walked briskly across the square. She was already armored, her dark hair tied back neatly, though her expression was softer than usual. At this point, she had long stopped trying to question Issei’s behavior. She’d simply… accepted it.
He turned, setting a large crate aside. “Morning, Aisha! How’d it go with the census?”
She stopped before him, giving a proper bow. “The prisoner census has been completed, My Lord. We recorded all names, ages, and origins as you instructed — along with their confessions and testimonies regarding the events of the Yellow Turban raid.”
“Good,” Issei said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “That’s one big step done.”
Aisha nodded, though her eyes flickered with concern. “Many among them showed defiance when questioned, but others… appeared remorseful. Some even claimed they were forced into the rebellion by fear or hunger.”
“Figures,” Issei muttered, his tone thoughtful. “It’s never black and white.”
He leaned against a beam and exhaled slowly. “Alright. Tonight, we’ll hold an open trial.”
Aisha blinked, slightly surprised by how quickly he decided. “Tonight, My Lord?”
“Yeah,” Issei said with a nod. “No point in waiting too long. Have someone go around and announce it and tell everyone in town that we’ll be holding the trial in the square after sundown. The people have a right to hear what happens.”
“I understand,” Aisha replied, bowing again.
“And…” Issei hesitated for a moment before adding, “If the victims want to attend, let them. But don’t force anyone. They’ve already been through enough. If they choose to speak, we’ll let them. They might reveal more about what really happened to them.”
Aisha’s expression softened at his words. “You truly think of everything, My Lord.”
Issei gave her a tired grin. “Not everything. I just don’t want to make things harder for anyone than they already are.”
Aisha bowed once more, a small, respectful smile forming on her lips. “Then I shall see to it immediately.”
As she turned and began giving quiet orders to a few soldiers nearby, Issei returned to his work, hefting another beam onto his shoulder.
There was still much to rebuild.
—--------------------------------------------
Night fell heavy over the town. The once-broken streets now flickered with torchlight, casting long shadows that danced across the rebuilt square. The air was thick with tension, part anticipation, part anger as nearly every villager had gathered.
At the center stood a large wooden platform hastily constructed that afternoon, and upon it sat Issei, flanked on both sides by Aisha and Rinrin.
Issei looked tired, but resolute. His arms rested on the armrests of the simple chair the townsfolk had made for him, a seat that looked far too formal for someone who had spent most of the morning hauling lumber. Aisha stood poised beside him, holding a scroll in her hands. Rinrin, though normally cheerful, wore a serious expression for once.
Below them, torches illuminated rows of kneeling men, the Yellow Turban prisoners. Their wrists were bound with ropes, their faces covered in dirt, shame, or defiance.
The crowd surrounding them was enormous. Men, women, and children packed tightly together, eyes burning with fury or grief. Murmurs rippled through the mass. Then, a single cry broke the silence.
“That one! He burned my father’s shop!”
“They killed my mother!” Shouted another.
“Monsters! You deserve to rot!”
Soon the voices swelled, overlapping, spilling their pain into the night. The anger grew tangible, rocks and rotten fruit were thrown, bouncing harmlessly off the prisoners who bowed their heads or trembled.
“Enough.” The single word came from Issei. Quiet, but sharp as steel.
The crowd froze.
He stood from his seat slowly, his expression calm but his voice carrying through the square like a wave of authority. “That’s enough.”
Silence fell immediately. No one dared to speak over him. The only sounds left were the crackle of torches and the faint wind moving through the ruined rooftops.
Issei scanned the crowd, his tone steady and firm. “I understand your pain. I know many of you lost loved ones to these men. I know what they took from you, your homes, your safety, your peace.”
He paused, his gaze lowering briefly to the kneeling prisoners. “But tonight… We are not here for revenge. We are here for justice.”
A murmur swept through the crowd, quieter this time, uncertain, but listening.
Issei continued, his voice clear. “This trial is not for their sake, but for yours. Each prisoner will stand before me, and before all of you, the very people they have harmed. Their crimes will be read aloud for all to hear.”
He turned slightly, nodding toward Aisha. “Aisha here has compiled their names, their origins, and their offenses. She will read each one.”
Then he looked back to the villagers, his tone softening but still commanding. “If any of you recognize a name, a face, or remember a wrong that was not written down, you will have the right to speak. You will tell us what they did. Your voice will be heard.”
The crowd stirred, listening closely, emotions simmering under the surface.
“However,” Issei added, his eyes narrowing slightly, “I will not allow lies or false accusations. If anyone speaks with deceit, if anyone dares to push crimes onto the innocent, you will face judgment as well. Do you all understand?”
A hush fell again. Then, almost in unison, the crowd nodded.
“Yes, My Lord.”
“We understand.”
Issei exhaled, his posture relaxing slightly. “Good.”
He gestured toward the guards. “Bring forth the first prisoner.”
The soldiers moved immediately, dragging forward a middle-aged man in ragged clothes, his arms bound tightly behind his back. The man’s face was streaked with dried blood and dirt, and he refused to meet Issei’s eyes.
Aisha unrolled the scroll, her voice carrying across the silent square. “Prisoner number one: Wei Cheng, age thirty-five. Former mercenary. Participated in the Yellow Turban raid on this town. Confessed to theft, arson, and assault.”
The crowd bristled, some whispering angrily.
Aisha continued, “Witnesses from the northern district reported he led a group that set fire to six homes and struck down anyone who resisted. He admits to killing three men during the raid.”
A tense silence followed.
Issei looked down at the man, his expression unreadable. “Wei Cheng. You’ve heard what’s been said. Is it true?”
The prisoner hesitated, then spoke in a hoarse voice. “...It is.”“
Then tell me,” Issei said evenly, “why did you do it?”
The man’s lips trembled. “Because… they ordered us to. They said anyone who refused to join the cause would be killed. I—I didn’t want to die. I just wanted to live.”
Murmurs rippled through the onlookers. Some scoffed in disbelief, others frowned.
Issei turned to the crowd. “Are there any who wish to speak against this man? Did any of you lose family or property to his actions?”
For a long moment, no one moved. Then, an elderly woman raised her trembling hand.
“He… he burned my son’s house,” She whispered. “My son tried to stop him. He—he didn’t make it.”
The man’s face contorted, guilt replacing his earlier fear.
Issei’s next words came low, deliberate, and final. “He is to be executed.”
The declaration rang through the square like a thunderclap.
The villagers murmured — some nodding solemnly, others gasping in surprise. Wei Cheng bowed his head without protest, his shoulders trembling as if the weight of his guilt had finally crushed him.
Aisha wrote down the verdict with calm precision, her face unreadable though her golden eyes wavered faintly with sorrow.
Rinrin, who had stayed quiet until now, glanced toward Issei, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Onii-chan…” she whispered softly, but he didn’t answer.
He stood there for a moment longer, watching as the guards led Wei Cheng away in silence. The man didn’t resist. He didn’t even look up.
Issei then looked at Aisha again. “Bring forth the next prisoner.”
Two soldiers dragged another prisoner forward, a young man, barely past his twenties. His head hung low, his wrists bound tightly.
Aisha unrolled the scroll again.
“Prisoner number two: Zhou Min, age twenty-two. Former conscript. Confessed to theft and arson during the Yellow Turban raid.”
She paused, her eyes flicking up briefly. “However, witnesses report that this man was seen pulling children out of burning houses and leading them to safety. He claims he joined under duress, but tried to minimize bloodshed.”
A murmur spread through the crowd. The villagers looked at one another uncertainly, anger clashing with confusion.
Issei studied the boy closely. “Zhou Min. You’ve heard what was said. Is it true?”
The young man nodded weakly. “It is, My Lord. I was forced to fight. I… stole food, and I set fires when ordered, but I never killed anyone during the raid. I swear it.”
A moment of silence passed.
From the edge of the crowd, a middle-aged man stepped forward, face lined with fatigue but eyes filled with recognition. “I remember him!” he said. “When my house burned, this boy pulled my daughter out. She’d have died without him.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Issei’s gaze softened slightly. “You risked your life to save others.”
Zhou Min looked up, his voice trembling. “I did terrible things to survive, but I didn’t want to be like them. If I must die, I’ll accept it — but please… remember that I tried.”
For the first time that night, Issei smiled faintly, though there was no joy in it. “You did wrong, but you tried to do right when it mattered. That’s something few can say.”
He turned to Aisha. “Mark him down. Zhou Min is to be spared. He will serve his penance by helping rebuild the homes he helped destroy.”
The crowd nodded in quiet agreement, some even murmuring approval.
Zhou Min’s knees gave out, tears of relief spilling down his face. “T-Thank you, My Lord…”
Aisha recorded the verdict as guards escorted him away.
—--------------------------
The 32nd prisoner was different.
He was dragged forward roughly, a man with a scarred face and cold, unrepentant eyes. His smirk, even in chains, drew an instant wave of hatred from the people.
Aisha’s tone sharpened. “Prisoner number three: Han Ji, age forty-one. Former Yellow Turban captain. Accused of murder, arson, and…”
She hesitated, her expression hardening. “...rape. Multiple counts.”
The square erupted in outrage.
Cries filled the air — curses, screams, sobs.
“He’s the one who took my daughter!”
“Monster!”
“Kill him!”
Even Rinrin clenched her fists, trembling with fury.
Issei’s jaw tightened, the torchlight flickering across his face. “Is that true?” he asked quietly.
Han Ji looked up, sneering. “So what if it is?”
Gasps echoed through the crowd.
“I was a soldier,” Han Ji spat. “Spoils of war, they said. The weak exist to be used by the strong. Don’t glare at me — I only did what any conqueror would.”
The words struck like a hammer. The victims in the crowd screamed, one of the women breaking down completely.
Seeing the suffering on the girl’s face. Issei didn’t speak. He didn’t think. In one motion, he stepped forward, grabbed a sword from one of the guards and before anyone could stop him, he moved.
SHING!
The blade flashed once in the torchlight.
Han Ji’s smirk froze on his face as the steel cut through him.
He fell, blood splattering against the stone.
For a heartbeat, silence reigned.
The villagers stood frozen. Even Aisha and Rinrin were motionless, staring in disbelief.
Then the woman — one of Han Ji’s victims — let out a cry of relief and fell to her knees, weeping.
Issei stood over the corpse, his chest heaving. The sword trembled in his hand.
Ddraig’s voice echoed in his mind, low and approving. (That one deserved it, Partner. You did what had to be done.)
Issei looked down at the blood pooling at his feet, his reflection rippling in it. “...I know.”
He turned to the crowd, his voice steady but grim. “This man’s sins went beyond forgiveness. Let this serve as a message to all. I won’t allow such crimes in my rule.”
The crowd erupted into cheers. Some cried, others shouted their thanks, but all bowed deeply to their lord.
Aisha lowered her gaze respectfully. “It was a swift judgment, My Lord.”
—---------------------------------
Hours later, the trial continued — and the final prisoner was brought forward.
He was young, barely a boy — no older than sixteen. His clothes were torn, his face pale with fear.
Aisha hesitated before reading his name.
“Prisoner number four: Chen Tao, age sixteen. Accused of theft and assault. No confession.”
The crowd murmured restlessly.
Issei tilted his head. “Chen Tao, did you raid this town?”
The boy shook his head desperately. “No! I wasn’t even part of them! I was taken as a servant. They forced me to carry their things! Please, My Lord, I didn’t hurt anyone!”
The crowd was unconvinced. A man shouted, “Lies! He was with them! I saw him carrying our food away!”
“I carried it because they beat me when I didn’t!” The boy cried, falling to his knees. “I swear I didn’t hurt anyone! I just wanted to go home!”
The torches flickered in the tense silence.
Issei stared hard at him, the way his shoulders shook, the way his wrists bore deep rope marks. He’d seen enough to know the difference between guilt and fear.
“Bring the witness,” Issei ordered.
A soldier brought forth a woman who had spoken for the boy. She looked uncertain now under his calm gaze.
“My Lord,” she stammered, “I—I saw him with the raiders, helping them. But I… I never saw him harm anyone.”
Issei nodded and then turned to Aisha. “Remove his bindings. This one’s innocent.”
The guards obeyed, cutting the ropes. The boy collapsed, sobbing in disbelief.
Issei knelt slightly to meet his eyes. “You’re free now. Go home — and if you have nowhere to go, stay here. We’ll find a place for you.”
“Th-thank you, My Lord!” Chen Tao cried, bowing low before being led away.
—--------------------------------------------
Issei remained seated on the raised platform, his posture still straight though exhaustion crept into his eyes. Beside him, Aisha held the long scroll now filled with inked names and final verdicts. Rinrin stood quietly to his other side, her usual cheer replaced by solemn reflection.
All around them, the people of the town waited. Men and women stood shoulder to shoulder, faces illuminated by the last of the torches, as the Red Dragon Emperor prepared to give his final ruling.
Aisha stepped forward, reading from the scroll one final time.
“Of the one thousand prisoners captured after the Yellow Turban raid…”
The air stilled.
“...five hundred have been judged guilty of crimes beyond redemption — of murder, of rape, of cruelty toward the innocent. They are to face execution at dawn.”
The crowd stirred, whispers breaking through the silence. Some nodded grimly. Others lowered their heads, relief and sorrow mingling in equal measure.
Aisha continued, her tone firm but respectful.
“The remaining five hundred are guilty of theft, destruction, and other acts of violence. They are not to be executed, but rather, they will serve the town they sought to destroy. Each will work under guard until their debt is repaid.”
A man in the crowd muttered, “Let them sweat for what they did.”
Another woman added quietly, “At least they’ll rebuild what they broke.”
Aisha looked toward Issei, waiting for his confirmation.
He stood slowly, the movement drawing every eye in the square. “Those who took lives will answer for it. Those who simply destroyed will rebuild what they ruined. And those who suffered will see that their pain was not ignored.” His words hung heavy in the air, but they carried conviction. “Now hopefully we can continue with our effort to rebuild this town and make it a true paradise for everyone. This trial is now over and everyone can go home.”
Aisha bowed deeply beside him. “As you command, My Lord.”
Rinrin followed with a small nod, her voice softer but full of pride. “You did great, Onii-chan.”
Slowly, the crowd began to disperse. Families held each other. Some cried, others simply continued walking solemnly.
The guards began leading the prisoners away, half toward their cells, half toward the labor camps that would be established by morning.
Done. Tell me what you think and if I made any mistakes.
Comments
Orengeflame
Koihime musou
Kerllon Luciomar
What's the name?
Orengeflame
Yes this is the next world after fairy tail
Apostle_of_Darkness
Is Issei able to use his Fire Dragon Slayer Magic in this world?
angel Arm
Cool
