The Truth

Black’s words doused the crowd like ice water—silence fell, thick and taut.

Kristine stared, fingers twisted in her skirt,her mind reeling.

The widow’s face drained of color,her throat bobbing as she forced defiance:

“W-what proof? Don’t scare me!”

“Patience. Proof is coming.”

Black turned to Kristine, voice softening:

“Saintess—you’re trained in antidotes.

What poison did those children ingest?”

She blinked, then whispered:

“Blackwater Dust.”

“It mimics food spoilage… acts in minutes……fatal if untreated within ten.”

Her gaze dropped to the shrouded corpse—grief raw in her eyes.

“Perfect.”

He pivoted to the wealthy couple:

“Did this woman interact with your son before he collapsed?”

The husband snapped his fingers:

“Yes! She ‘accidentally’ knocked over his cup—then insisted on refilling it herself!”

“And he drank it—then fell ill?”

“Exactly! Belly pain, then convulsions!”

Black spun to the crowd, voice ringing like steel:

“She poisoned the WATER!”

“LIES!” the widow shrieked, but her voice cracked.

“I just replaced the cup! Why would I—?”

The Knight Captain frowned:

“That’s circumstantial at best.”

Black smiled—then pounced:

“Fine. Answer this:

How much water did your child drink after poisoning?”

Kristine and Jianye exchanged glances—

He’s baiting her.

Black gave them a subtle shake of his head.

They stayed silent.

The widow blurted:

“He drank LOTS! Kept begging for water!”

“AHA!”

Black’s voice sliced like a blade:

“Blackwater Dust causes bloating, NOT thirst!

Victims vomit—they can’t swallow a drop!”

The rich father gasped:

“He’s right! My son rejected water!”

The widow staggered back, face ashen.

He tricked me!

“I—I misremembered!” she stammered.

“Misremembered?” Black laughed coldly.

“A mother forgets her dying child’s symptoms?”

The crowd murmured, suspicion turning like a tide.

“He’s right—mothers know!”

Black pressed his advantage:

“Captain—Blackwater Dust clings to clothing.

Test her coat. If she’s innocent, she’ll agree.”

The captain hesitated—then nodded:

“Seize her outer garment! To the Alchemy Division!”

“NO!”

The widow screamed, backing away:

“Why should I? No mother poisons her own—!”

But Black cut her off:

“Unless… she’s not his mother.”

GASPS

A tavern boy jumped forward:

“The kid flinched when she touched him!

Never called her ‘Mama’!”

The widow whirled to flee—but blue energy lashed out,binding her in glowing ropes.

She crashed to the cobbles.

Black turned—

Jianye stood, hand outstretched, face impassive.

“Thanks,” he said.

She ignored him, arms crossed.

Knights dragged the widow up—but she jerked her head back,black foam bubbling from her lips.

She bit her suicide capsule.

“NO!” the captain roared—but her body went rigid, lifeless.

The crowd stared, truth dawning.

Only the guilty run… and die silent.

Then—the tide turned:

“We wronged the Saintess…”

“That boy… saved her!”

“Is he Knight Patrol? Only they solve cases this fast!”

Praise replaced blame—all aimed at the manacled prisoner.

Kristine stumbled forward,exhaustion and relief warring in her eyes.

She offered a fragile, tear-streaked smile:

“Black… thank you…”