Proof of the Demon Lord's Innocence - Chapter 10

They needed to take the monorail to Iris Town. Flowermail’s trains used to run on the ground, but accidents and traffic congestion led to the adoption of monorails. Techno’s generation had never seen ground trains.

They shouldn’t be wasting time. They had to finish their investigation, gather evidence, and request witnesses before the trial. One month. Not much time. And Techno had another reason to be anxious, the same reason he was Freya’s paralegal.

“Hwaaa!”

Two young girls, likely sisters, were crying in the station square. The older one, taller and sturdier, held her younger sister’s hand. She looked like she was trying not to cry herself.

“Sorry, Luca. I couldn’t get it back.”

“Hwaaa! You’re hurt! I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay. I’m not hurt. See?”

Despite her words, the older girl’s knee was scraped and bleeding. A red balloon was caught in a tree branch. The younger sister must have let go of the balloon, and her older sister had tried to get it back but couldn’t.

The younger sister cared more about her sister’s injury than the lost balloon.

—The older one was probably still in elementary school. She might not know any magic.

Nine years of elementary and middle school were mandatory in Flowermail. Elementary focused on identifying and developing Job talents. Teaching magic too early was considered dangerous. Even if the girls had magical talents, they wouldn’t learn practical applications until middle school. Some might learn independently, but schools didn’t formally teach magic until then.

Techno, not a mage, couldn’t assess their magic potential. But even if they had magical talents, they likely couldn’t use healing magic yet.

“Hey, girls. Mind if I…?”

Before Techno could think of a less intrusive approach, Freya was already talking to them. He was reasonably handsome, but still an adult male approaching young girls. While the sisters stared, Freya held his hand over the older girl’s knee.

-Healing-

This goofball is a White Mage, right?, Techno thought, watching the faint light gather at the wound, quickly healing it.

“Wow…!” The girls’ eyes widened, perhaps their first time seeing magic up close.

“Wait here.” Freya climbed the tree.
Mages were often physically weak, but training could make up for it. And White Mages, needing to be mobile for quick healing, often had decent leg strength.

He easily grabbed the balloon and handed it to the younger sister with a grin.
“Here you go. This what you wanted?”

“Thank you, Mister!”

“Mister?! I’m still a teenager!”

“Ahahaha!”

The girls giggled. Techno watched Freya, scratching his head sheepishly, a strange warmth spreading through him.

They were short on time. The trial was approaching. Yet, Freya always made time for these detours. He couldn’t ignore someone in need. And when he was in “helping mode,” he completely lost track of time. Techno had learned this the hard way, often rushing to keep them on schedule. It was one of Freya’s charming traits, but also a source of constant frustration.

“You’re naive,” Techno said.

“Maybe,” Freya replied, waving to the girls as they walked away.

“Don’t get me wrong! Helping people is fine, but we have limited time.”

“I know, I know.”

“Clearly, you don’t! You didn’t have to help those girls. Other adults were around.”

“True.”

They swiped their passes at the unmanned turnstile. Most station staff had been replaced by androids. Flowermail’s population was still small relative to its vastness. The government aimed to automate wherever possible, allowing human to focus on roles requiring personal interaction.

Adventurers, for example, still needed to be human. AI wasn’t advanced enough for the unpredictable nature of the job. Teachers were still mostly human, though robots took care of administrative work and supervised extracurricular activities, making their jobs easier.

“Someone else might have helped them. But no one did, right? They were all thinking the same thing. “Someone else will do it.” Which isn’t wrong. Especially for adult men. Approaching children can be risky these days.”

“But,” Freya continued, as they rode the escalator, “if everyone waits for someone else, no one helps. I hate that. “It’ll be fine, someone else will take care of it.” Who guarantees that? Ignoring a problem can make it worse. The older girl might have tried to climb the tree herself and gotten seriously injured. If an adult had helped, it could have been prevented. I don’t want to have those kinds of regrets again.”

Techno knew exactly who Freya was thinking about. Standing at the platform, he blurted out, “Everyone has regrets. “I should have done something.” But… I don’t think you did anything wrong.”

He knew Freya’s obsession with this case came from two places. One of them was Lune.

“You didn’t kill Lune. It’s not your fault.”

Freya, despite understanding Lune’s pain, hadn’t been able to save her from execution. Techno thought Freya’s guilt was almost arrogant—what could a child have possibly done?

But Freya kept blaming himself, forever haunted by what he couldn’t protect. He was trying to fill that void with this case, a selfish attempt to heal a wound that wouldn’t healed.

“I know, Techno,” Freya said quietly as the train arrived, the noise nearly swallowing his words. “I know.”

Even if Techno understood, there was nothing he could say.