Black Phoenix Heir

Chapter 60: Chapter 60 — The Shaman

Chapter 60 — The Shaman

Victor stood silently in the center of the hall, his hands bound by the strange cuffs wrapped around his wrists.

For a moment, he allowed himself to look around.

Now that he had a better view of the room, the entire setup felt strangely familiar.

It almost resembled a courtroom back on Earth.

The tribe members gathered along the left and right sides of the hall reminded him of a jury, their attention fixed entirely on the prisoner standing before the elders. Some looked angry. Others looked curious. A few simply watched him in silence, their expressions impossible to read.

And above them all sat the elders.

Five figures positioned on the raised platform like judges waiting to decide his fate.

Victor’s eyes slowly moved across the gathered tribe members.

Then he saw Moonlight.

His expression changed slightly.

She was standing among the people on the left side of the hall.

For the first time since he had met her, Moonlight didn’t have that familiar look of curiosity in her eyes. There was no excitement hiding beneath her calm expression, no barely contained questions waiting to be asked.

Today, she looked completely different.

Her face was stoic.

Almost emotionless.

But Victor could see something beneath it.

Sadness.

It was faint enough that most people probably wouldn’t notice it, but Victor had spent enough time talking to her during the past two weeks to recognize that something was different.

He wondered what she was thinking.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to figure it out.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

Victor turned.

A second guard was entering the hall.

And in his hands was a cage.

Victor’s eyes immediately settled on the little bird inside.

The cage was made of dark wood reinforced with metal, and intricate symbols had been carved across nearly every surface. Victor immediately recognized them.

They were the same markings covering his cuffs.

Mana Lock symbols.

The little black bird looked miserable.

It stood inside the cage with its wings pulled close against its body, surrounded by unfamiliar humans staring at it from every direction. Its red eyes moved through the crowded hall before finally finding Victor.

For a moment, the little creature simply stared at him.

Victor couldn’t help but feel bad.

The bird looked almost pleading.

As if somehow expecting Victor to do something.

Victor gave it the smallest smile he could manage.

There was nothing else he could do.

He couldn’t free himself.

He couldn’t free the bird.

Their cultivation was sealed, and their fates were currently sitting several feet above them.

Victor slowly turned back toward the elders.

Oheema raised her hand.

The conversations throughout the hall gradually disappeared.

Silence fell.

"We will now begin the judgment."

Victor’s eyes settled on her.

Oheema stared down at him from the center seat, her expression calm and distant as though she were discussing something far less important than the lives of two prisoners.

"This outsider trespassed upon our sacred grounds and absorbed five years’ worth of Samal’s holy energy from the Sacred Pond."

Murmurs immediately moved through the hall.

Victor remained silent.

Oheema continued.

"And that is not the only crime he has committed."

Victor frowned.

The old woman looked toward the other elders.

"When he was captured, objects were found in his possession. Sacred objects. An ancient map containing markings connected to the holy grounds of Samal."

Victor’s eyes narrowed.

The map.

Before he could think much about it, the female elder sitting to Oheema’s right leaned forward.

Her cold eyes settled on him.

"Where could an outsider have acquired such sacred writings?"

Victor blinked.

Sacred writings?

What the hell were they talking about?

Gregal immediately spoke.

"Not only did this heathen steal five years of holy mana from Samal, but he was found carrying sacred knowledge connected to one of Samal’s temples."

His expression twisted with anger.

"We cannot allow such crimes to go unanswered."

Gregal pointed toward Victor.

"And the bird is equally guilty. Both entered the sacred grounds. Both must answer for their sins."

His voice grew louder.

"They should be sacrificed during the Festival of Mana."

The hall erupted into murmurs.

Victor’s expression remained still.

But internally, his thoughts were moving rapidly.

So that was still on the table.

The little bird fluttered anxiously inside the cage.

Then another elder finally spoke.

It was the older bald man sitting on the opposite side of Oheema.

His voice was calm.

"Do we truly know the will of Samal?"

The room became quieter.

Gregal turned toward him.

The bald elder continued.

"The boy entered the Sacred Pond."

His eyes shifted toward Victor.

"And yet, he survived."

Victor’s expression changed slightly.

The elder paused.

"Should that not be considered?"

A wave of whispers moved through the hall.

"Perhaps Samal allowed him to enter."

The murmurs immediately became louder.

"Perhaps it was Samal’s will."

"Preposterous!"

The short elder suddenly rose from his seat.

His aged face had turned red with fury.

"Entering the sacred grounds is sacrilege! Whether he survived or not changes nothing!"

His finger pointed toward Victor.

"He defiled the Sacred Pond!"

His voice echoed through the hall.

"He must burn during the Festival of Mana!"

The little bird fluttered violently inside its cage.

Victor stared at the elders.

Apparently, his trial wasn’t going particularly well.

"Enough."

Oheema’s voice cut through the hall.

Silence immediately returned.

The short elder slowly lowered himself back into his seat.

Oheema looked between the elders.

"We are not the ones who will make this ruling."

Victor frowned.

Not the ones who would make the ruling?

Then who the hell was?

Oheema slowly turned toward the entrance of the hall.

"It is time."

The entire room became still.

"Call for the Shaman."

Something about the atmosphere immediately changed.

Victor noticed it.

The tribe members standing along the walls straightened. Several lowered their heads respectfully. Even some of the elders seemed to become more serious.

Then the heavy doors at the far end of the hall opened.

A man entered.

Victor watched him carefully.

Victor couldn’t explain why, but the moment the man entered the hall, at the air seemed heavier.

The Shaman appeared to be somewhere in his fifties, though there was something about him that made his true age difficult to guess. Unlike the warriors and elders of the tribe, he wore clothing completely different from everyone else in the room.

Layers of strange robes hung from his body, decorated with beads, bones, and pieces of carved wood. Symbols had been painted across the fabric, and a strange ceremonial headdress covered his head.

But that wasn’t what caught Victor’s attention.

It was the symbol.

Hanging from the Shaman’s neck was an unmistakable emblem.

An upside-down alchemist flask.

Victor froze.

The symbol appeared again on the man’s staff.

An upside-down flask carved into the dark wood.

Victor’s eyes widened.

Suddenly, memories began connecting inside his mind.

The underground cellar.

The statue.

The strange map.

And now this symbol.

Victor stared at the Shaman as his thoughts raced.

The more pieces Victor put together, the crazier it seemed.

The Shaman slowly walked toward the center of the hall.

His staff struck against the wooden floor.

Once.

Twice.

The sound echoed through the silent chamber.

Victor stood completely still as the man approached.

And for the first time since entering the village, he finally felt as though he was beginning to understand exactly what kind of place he had stumbled into.

The Shaman stopped.

His eyes settled on Victor.

The hall remained silent.

The ritual was about to begin.

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