Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 571 Hallucination
Bazel was roughly shoved into a chair by Ash, his bones shattering and flying everywhere, but he didn't care at all, looking up at the rows of judges above him.

A towering dome, a judge whose face is hidden, guards with guns, and a banshee standing beside him.

Barzel should have been afraid, but at this moment he was somewhat lost in thought.

A familiar feeling washed over him as he looked around the courtroom, and memories slowly surfaced.

Despite having undergone the baptism of the Forgotten Ones' Sanctuary, there are some things I can never forget.

Those fearful and jealous eyes, the Queen's blood-stained shoes, the book of investiture clutched tightly in her hand, the covenant handed to Lina.
Bazel looked up at the courtroom, his gaze sweeping over the figures before suddenly meeting that of a nobleman propping his head up with his hand.

The prince, Bazel recognized him, but at this moment, the other's cold gaze felt somewhat familiar to Bazel.

Bazel was lost in his memories.

From as far back as he can remember, Bazel has lived in the praise of others.

He can master in a short time what others spend a lifetime studying, and if he is willing to spend a lot of time figuring it out, he will become an expert in the field.

When he was a child, everyone who met him or had any contact with him would smile and praise him, saying from the bottom of their hearts: "What a smart child!"

Then he turned his back and muttered to himself—it's a pity he's an illegitimate child.

His tone was tinged with regret, but he couldn't hide the hint of schadenfreude in his voice.

He was born out of wedlock; that was the only thing he couldn't change no matter how hard he tried.

Bloodline, surname, nobility, lowliness—these are the world's finest carving tools, sculpting free souls into humble forms.

Back then, he would run to his birth mother with resentment and ask her questions. Then, seeing his birth mother's face full of sadness and pain, his childhood memories would come to an abrupt end.

That was the happiest time of his life, the only truly blissful period.

This was perhaps why he wanted to prove himself; he tried to reach out and grab everything in front of him.

Praise and commendation instantly turned into insults and slander, but Bazel stood firm amidst the storm. He thrived in the circles of nobility, and those of high blood and glorious surnames seemed to amount to nothing.

Bazel enjoyed the feeling, the thrill of being able to step on others despite being a bastard, and he was smug about it.

Perhaps he will spend his humble and boring life like this.

When did everything change?

Memories turned page by page, then suddenly stopped.

That seems to be happening in court as well.

In the first year of the Queen's reign, the Duke of Sigmund attempted to assassinate the Queen in court, but was killed on the spot by Isabella. Several of his vassals were also sentenced to death by hanging.

But Bazel knew that this was not the case.

That day in court, led by Sigmund, the nobles joined forces to attack the Queen, sending her to the dock.

The imperial courts had never tried an empress; they flattered each other with smug satisfaction, as if they had the young empress firmly in their grasp.

Barzel used some tricks to squeeze into the revelry. He sat in the judge's seat, looking down at the crowned figure.

Just then, Isabella also looked up and around. Their eyes met for a moment, and Bazel was stunned.

In those red eyes, there was pleasure, excitement, greed, and bloodlust, but no fear.

Then the memory was lost in chaos; the empress walked through the courtroom, stepping on blood, her bright sword severing heads one by one.

By the time Bazel came to his senses, she had already trampled him to the ground. Isabella tapped his face with the tip of her sword, leaving a bloody mark. "Tell those good-for-nothings that if they want to kill me, they can come and get their own swords."

As Bazel looked at her blood-stained dress, he suddenly felt his world crumbling.

Beyond the rules and regulations of the nobility, beyond the carefully chosen words and phrases of verbal sparring, beyond the elegant demeanor, there exists another force—a force that can truly determine everything.

It was so beautiful, so captivating, that Bazel suddenly felt that everything he had done before was just child's play.

As Her Majesty the Queen departed, Bazel watched her retreating figure and instinctively reached out his hand.

He could never forget that figure.

His vision blurred, the pages of his memory flipped rapidly, and when Bazel looked up, the Queen was pointing her sword at his shoulder.

"From now on you are a border count. Your fief is in the Canary Mountains. You can pick up the investiture document yourself later." Isabella sheathed her longsword and waved her hand. "Next."

A young man knelt tremblingly before the Queen, but Bazel paid no attention, gazing at the Queen with fascination.

"Her Majesty the Empress has been assassinated?!"

Bazel jumped up from the armchair, his hands trembling as he held the letter.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!!!"

He rushed out of the room.

During that period, the Winter Wolf Guard became obsessed, sweeping through the North again and again, and the armies of the three Grand Dukes were busy avoiding their advance.

His memories became a little jumbled again. When Bazel turned around, he found himself standing in the room once more. Suddenly, a woman's voice rang out in the empty room: "How have you decided?"

"Is what you say true? That Bone Sanctuary can really help me conquer the entire continent?"

“Naturally, we help you conquer the continent, and you give us protection. It’s fair.”

Bazel nodded, then suddenly asked, "I heard that the sacred object can also resurrect the dead?"

“Of course. You’ve seen those buried ones of the White Raven. Their immortality comes from the Temple of Bones. Do you have someone you need to resurrect?”

"No, it was just a casual question. Let's sign the contract."

A soft laugh came from the shadows behind him.

Bazel tried to close his eyes, but he was already devoid of flesh and blood, and his memories were in complete disarray. He tried to concentrate and found himself in the wasteland without realizing it.

"Lord Bazel, if we continue fighting, the casualties will likely be heavy. That superhuman named Nora is too strong."

Bazel stared intently at the short figure wielding the flail, a surge of inexplicable hatred rising within him.

Why? Why didn't she die? She was just an ordinary burial attendant, yet Her Majesty the Empress, such an outstanding and perfect person, was assassinated.
"Kill her, kill her no matter what, cut off her head!" he roared at the soldiers around him.

Lina, who was beside her, smiled slightly.

"Bazaar, do you plead guilty?"

Suddenly, his memories came flooding back. Bazel paused for a moment before realizing that he was still in the courtroom, being held down in a chair.

She looked up and somehow met the prince's gaze.

Indifferent, calm, as if looking at a roadside stone.

(End of this chapter)