From a distance, John heard the commotion and slowly walked over.
The moment he came into view, Hardy pointed at him with a face full of fury and roared, "There he is—the murderer! Look, he's still holding my Wintry Moon Sword! Am I wrong to accuse him of killing people and robbing their goods?"
"If I hadn't escaped in time, I would've been the next corpse on the ground!"
Then Hardy turned sharply to Brian. "Go inform the guards of the Wolf-hunting Ground. Tell them to call Mr. Wodehouse. This bastard isn't easy to handle."
Brian rushed off immediately.
Sophia, on the other hand, hurried over to John and stood firmly beside him. "Mr. Lopez, I believe you."
John nodded, silent but calm.
Wait.
Hardy was waiting.
So was John.
Moments later, Brian returned—with backup.
A squad of Zephyr Wolf-hunting Ground guards followed him, and at the center of the group was an old man dressed in simple cotton robes, but exuding a powerful, commanding presence.
Ryan Wodehouse.
The man in charge of the Zephyr Wolf-hunting Ground.
Someone was accused of killing and looting within his territory—he couldn't ignore it.
Casualties during real combat training were expected, but deliberate murder was strictly forbidden. And if it had to happen, it better leave no trace.
Ryan despised situations like this. People like John Lopez, bold enough to commit the crime but dumb enough to get caught, were exactly the kind of problem he didn't want.
But since the incident had surfaced, someone had to pay the price.
He had already received a rough rundown of the situation from Brian along the way.
Apparently, this young man named John Lopez had actually dared to hurt the son of Guardian Tennat.
Hardy's voice cut through the tension. "Mr. Wodehouse! It's him! That brat has my sword in his hand! You have to deliver justice!"
His tone was full of sorrow and righteous fury, but his heart was grinning.
At Hugo Smith's promotion banquet, Hardy had instigated first, so if he'd killed John then, it would've raised eyebrows.
But this time? This time, Hardy had the perfect excuse—John had supposedly killed and robbed him.
It was clean.
It was strategic.
A perfect setup.
Anyone with half a brain could see this was a trap. Hardy was just seeking revenge for John's disrespect.
But that didn't matter.
What mattered was the accusation.
And in this world, if you don't have evidence, you don't have shit.
Even the Martial Arts League leaders trained their own hit squads in secret. But as long as no one could prove it, they were in the clear.
It was the unwritten rule—brutal but real.
Ryan's eyes were cold as steel. He looked at John and said, voice sharp as a blade, "John Lopez. The young master of the Tennat Family claims you tried to kill him and steal his sword. Do you have anything to confess?"
John stood still, his expression unreadable.
Then, calmly, he thrust the Wintry Moon Sword into the ground beside him.
"That's just his side of the story," he said flatly. "If I told you that this trash sword was tossed to me by Hardy himself, just to frame me—would you believe it?"
Trash sword?
Hardy's face turned red with fury. "That sword was a gift from my father! It's not as good as Bruce Will's, sure, but it's close. How dare you call it trash?"
John ignored him and kept his eyes on Ryan.
"Well?" he asked. "Do you believe me?"
Ryan's eyes flickered.
But after a moment, his expression turned cold again.
"You claim Mr. Tennat framed you. Do you have proof?"
"No."
"Then how do you expect me to believe you?"
John smirked. "And what about Hardy's story? That's just his version—no proof either. Why don't you ask him for evidence?"
Ryan turned briefly toward Hardy.
Then looked away.
And fixed his gaze back on John.
"I already got the gist on the way here. Mr. Tennat was wounded, and somehow his sword ended up in your hands. That much is fact."
So shut up.
That's what Ryan was really saying.
John didn't flinch. "Cut the crap. If you're going to take sides, at least don't pretend you're being fair."
He saw straight through him.
Ryan hadn't come to judge right or wrong.
He'd come to bury him—plain and simple.
John had played along this long just to see if Ryan had any shred of integrity.
Clearly, he didn't.
Disappointment filled him.
With a dark expression, Ryan barked, "How dare you talk back! Now I have every reason to believe Mr. Tennat is telling the truth. You're guilty of attempted murder and theft!"
John chuckled.
What a joke.
So this was justice?
Because he dared to speak up?
They were clearly in cahoots—acting evilly in collusion.
He didn't bother explaining anymore.
He simply raised his eyebrows and asked, "So what now?"
Ryan's eyes burned cold. "What now?"
He stepped forward, power rising in waves.
"I'll uphold justice for Mr. Tennat," he said self-righteously, voice booming.
John's smile grew wider.
It was a cold smile. Bitter. Ironic.
The people watching felt a chill.
Sophia's heart clenched. She stepped forward and cried, "Sir! Please—it's not what you think! At least investigate properly before deciding anything!"
She wasn't being naive.
She knew Ryan was siding with Hardy.
But she couldn't just stand there and watch John die.
Still, as expected, Ryan didn't even look at her.
He snorted, "Women have no place to speak here. Unless you want to die with him, get the hell out of my way!"
Sophia's face turned pale.
And in the next moment—
Boom!
Ryan's robe suddenly swelled as his aura exploded outward like a storm cloud blotting out the sun.
Venerable Realm. Mid-stage.
He charged forward like a tidal wave of fury, his killing intent swallowing the space around John.