Tangled Truth

The air crackled with anticipation as Shroud's thoughts immersed themselves in the impending events. A clash of minds, a battle of narratives, poised to unravel upon the grand stage.

He knew well that Herald, the arbiter of this debate, wouldn't bother with notions of fairness. Yet, such worries slipped through Shroud's mind, overshadowed by the excitement of engaging in a captivating storytelling match after a considerable time.

Unfazed by the crowd's murmurings, Shroud took his place on the stage, a solitary figure amidst a sea of expectant faces. While Herald maintained his stern demeanour, Shroud stood tall, emanating a calm aura that intrigued onlookers.

With a commanding voice, Herald summoned a young boy named Aden, whose fractured hand caused a stir in the audience. Gasps rippled through the crowd, mingled with disapproving glances from fervent Aden admirers. Shroud couldn't help but find amusement in the scene, noting with a wry smile that the boy seemed to have quite a dedicated following.

Amidst the sea of female gazes fixed upon him, Shroud's perceptive eyes were drawn to one particular gaze, distinct from the rest. It was Luna, with her usual aloofness pierced by an unseen intrigue. Concealing his curiosity, Shroud wondered why she had a different gaze than her usual one.

A silent conversation unfolded, words unspoken but understood. Luna's lips moved gracefully, carrying a question that lingered in the air: "I hope senior will show me a good show." In that instant, Shroud's mind raced, thoughts weaving a tapestry of realization.

"Ah, I understand now." Shroud's mind cleared, and a knowing nod graced his thoughts. It was evident that Luna, in her own characteristic manner, sought nothing more than amusement from the unfolding spectacle. Her priorities always revolved around her own enjoyment, surpassing any other considerations.

As if in response to her unspoken plea, Shroud's lips moved, shaping a reply that danced upon the breeze: "It depends." In those few words, he conveyed the delicate balance between anticipation and uncertainty. The quality of the show she would witness relied on the abilities of those standing beside him on this stage.

As Aden settled himself comfortably on the stage, Herald's voice flowed like a smooth river, breaking the silence. "Hmm, from the looks of it, Aden, you seem to be the one who has sustained the injury," Herald remarked, his tone devoid of malice but only concern.

However, Herald swiftly clarified his intentions, conscious of the need to dispel any misconceptions arising from his familial ties. "Given that everyone is aware of our relationship, allowing you to explain first might create the impression of favouritism," Herald reasoned with a measured and rational voice.

Casting a brief glance toward Shroud, he continued, "Would you be so kind as to recount the events of yesterday, which led to Aden's unfortunate wound?" Herald's deliberate decision to give Shroud the floor captured the attention of the majority of students, positioning him in a selfless light that defied initial expectations.

This calculated move not only elevated Herald's standing in their eyes but also cast a subtle shadow over Shroud. Moreover, Herald's emphasis on the gravity of Aden's injury further swayed the favour toward the wounded party.

As Herald passed the figurative spotlight to Shroud, a thought sparked within the depths of Shroud's mind. "A well-calculated move, I must say, Mr Herald," Shroud silently acknowledged. The way in which Herald skillfully redirected the attention to Shroud revealed the wisdom behind his strategic approach.

Typically, it was customary for the one granted the opportunity to explain to construct an elaborate defence, resorting to various tactics. Yet, Shroud knew that falsehoods could only withstand scrutiny for a finite time, eventually crumbling beneath the weight of truth.

Fabricating tales like "My dog stepped on a Honkai beast" would likely not be well-received or believed by the audience. In the current situation, despite Herald secretly favouring Aden and being perceived as a fair judge by the majority of the audience, Shroud understood that he needed to present compelling evidence and arguments to sway the opinions in his favour.

Thinking up to this point, a faint smile tugged at Shroud's lips as he reflected inwardly. "It's amusing how humans can be both gullible and vigilant simultaneously. Some readily believe in superstitions propagated by others, while others devote their lives to disproving them," Shroud mused, reminiscing about the intricacies of human nature.

"Could this be the reason why I have yet to relinquish my humanity?" The question lingered in his thoughts, a contemplation of the very essence of his being. Shroud recalled some memories of him trying his best to retain his humanity in the abyss. After a split second of reminiscing, however, Shroud swiftly diverted his focus back to the present.

Aware of the pivotal moment unfolding before him, Shroud recognized the need for a composed response. He understood that now was not the time to indulge in old memories, but rather to address the inquiry at hand.

With a calm and measured demeanour, Shroud began recounting the events of the previous day. His words were concise yet filled with a subtle intensity, carefully navigating the fine line between truth and the delicate dance of manipulation.

As his voice resonated through the room, capturing the attention of his peers, Shroud observed their reactions. Some faces displayed curiosity, others scepticism. The weight of their judgment hung in the air, awaiting his every word.

At this moment, Shroud's focus sharpened, honed by years of observing human behaviour and adapting to the intricacies of their social dynamics. He knew that the way he presented his account would determine the outcome, potentially shaping not only his own fate but also the perceptions of those around him.

Taking a breath, Shroud began to weave his narrative, skillfully crafting a tale that merged elements of truth and carefully selected omissions. His words danced on the edge of deception, yet he remained acutely aware of the fine line he treaded, the consequences of crossing it too far.

After Shroud finished explaining, a brief silence hung in the air, which was eventually broken by Herald's voice. "Shroud, you claim that you didn't break Aden's hand and that he is responsible for breaking it himself," Herald asked, to which Shroud nodded in agreement.

"Hmm, but Shroud, you did mention that you also retaliated by striking him multiple times," Herald continued. Shroud nodded again, but this time he added the additional detail about having slapped Aden an equal number of times as Aden had insulted him.

The room buzzed with a mixture of curiosity and tension as Herald's words hung in the air. Shroud's nod of confirmation seemed to validate his previous account, leaving a lingering sense of ambiguity.

Herald's gaze lingered on Shroud, his eyes sharp with discernment. The weight of the situation pressed upon them both, as the truth danced delicately between their words. It was a delicate balance, navigating the intricacies of responsibility and retribution.

Shroud's admission of retaliatory strikes sent shockwaves through the room, instantly altering the narrative and unravelling a complex web of cause and effect. As the gathered audience held their breath, eager to witness the next twist in this unfolding drama, all eyes turned towards Herald. It was his voice that carried the weight of authority, commanding Aden to recount yesterday's events from his perspective.

Aden's voice trembled slightly as he stepped into the spotlight, mirroring Shroud's earlier account with meticulous precision. However, he introduced a crucial addition that cast Shroud in a darker light. Aden claimed that it was Shroud who had inflicted the injury on his arm, highlighting the relentless strikes that continued mercilessly even after he had fallen to the unforgiving ground.

The room erupted with a cacophony of murmurs and whispers, suspicion rippling through the air like an invisible current. Shroud, aware of the brewing unrest, anticipated this reaction with a calculated gaze. Herald, ever the mediator, sought to bridge the growing divide. Turning his attention to Shroud, he probed for a response, inviting him to address Aden's allegations.

A pregnant silence hung heavy in the room as Shroud measured his words. Each passing second intensified the anticipation, drawing the audience closer to the precipice of their seats. Then, breaking the stillness, Shroud's voice resonated with a calm, measured tone, slicing through the tension.

"You claim that I struck you brutally," he began, his words directed at Aden. A subtle flinch betrayed Aden's unease, yet he found himself unable to retreat. His eyes darted towards Herald, seeking guidance, finding solace in the nod of his uncle's approving gaze.

Summoning his resolve, Aden affirmed his stance, his voice laced with an undertone of defiance. "Yes, you unleashed the full force of your blows upon me, leaving me battered and injured." Inwardly, Shroud allowed a flicker of triumph to dance across his thoughts. The pieces were falling into place.

With unwavering confidence, Shroud seized the moment, his gaze piercing Aden's resolve. He challenged him, demanding an understanding of the depths of brutality. "Do you truly comprehend the strength I possess?" he questioned, his voice heavy with emphasis. "Can you grasp the true meaning of brutality?"

Confusion clouded Aden's features as he faltered in his response, unsure of Shroud's intent. "What do you mean?" he stammered, his voice betraying a mixture of fear and curiosity.

To be continued...

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A/N: Hope you enjoy the chapter and feel free to comment. Your thoughts and criticism are valuable in helping me improve and stay motivated to write more.