I Killed The Main Characters

A month had passed since the incident that sent tremors through the Ravenwood grounds and tore a rift in the prestigious House of Ashbourne.

Ravenwood Academy had tried to return to normalcy, but the air remained tense

It was only recently that the incident at the schools graveyard had taken place with the princess as the victim.

Whispers still slithered through the halls like smoke that wouldn't dissipate.

Students cast wary glances over their shoulders, and professors now walked the corridors with sharpened eyes.

But today, the matter was no longer whispered behind closed doors.

The Imperial Court had summoned House Ashbourne.

The Grand Court Hall of the Empire stood like a cathedral of judgment.

Ornate walls lined with ancient tapestries bore silent witness to the judgment of nobles, traitors, and fallen heroes.

At the apex of the room sat the Twelve Justiciars, each robed in a different shade representing the domains of law they presided over.

Crimson for war.

Gold for inheritance.

Ash for treason.

Jade for internal affairs.

A hush fell as the Ashbournes were called forward.

Lord Amon Ashbourne, stiff and proud, stepped first, followed by his wife, Lady Margaret, who clutched her gloves with strained fingers.

Behind them, draped in a midnight cloak that carried no crest, walked Noah Ashbourne.

Or soon to be — not.

He bore no family sigil.

No entourage.

No pride.

At the center of the room stood the Judgment Pillar, around which the audience of nobles, ministers, Ravenwood officials, and the Academy's chancellor had gathered.

There were whispers that the noble boy had killed two of his own House's vassals.

That he had survived.

That he had requested to strip himself of his name.

High Justiciar Malrich struck his gavel thrice.

"We begin the imperial hearing of the case titled: The Vassal Assault at Ravenwood Academy."

The Chancellor of Ravenwood, a lean woman with silver hair and iron eyes, stepped forward.

"Your Honors.

The Academy submits its official report.

On the 11th day of the Month of Sighs, two vassals under the employ of House Ashbourne.

Identified as Daemon Krasis and Evelyn Krasis.

Infiltrated Academy grounds under the pretext of a diplomatic visit.

Shortly thereafter, they attacked Student and acting Instructor Noah Ashbourne during his duties overseeing a joint-year trial examination."

"This occurred during the sanctioned exam?"

Asked Justiciar Elthra, representing Educational Affairs.

"Yes."

"Fatalities?"

"Both vassals were killed."

The murmurs returned.

Malrich gestured for silence.

"We call House Ashbourne to provide clarification.

Lord Amon, state your understanding."

Lord Amon stepped forward with the gait of a man who had danced this dance too many times.

"I received correspondence that two of my vassals traveled to the Academy to conduct business.

Agreements concerning artifact procurement and potential training exchanges for fieldwork.

I was unaware of any ulterior motive."

"And you assert, under oath, that you gave no order of violence, nor knew of their intention to harm your son?"

A pause.

"I do."

"Do you deny that these vassals had a past grudge against the young master?"

Amon's jaw twitched.

"They served the House loyally.

If they harbored any resentment, it was not something I sanctioned."

High Justiciar Malrich turned his piercing gaze to the cloaked boy.

"Noah Ashbourne, please step forward."

Noah's footsteps echoed unnaturally loud.

There was no fear in his eyes.

Only tiredness.

"Give us your testimony."

Noah nodded.

"While overseeing the trial examinations for First and Second Years, the vassals approached me under false pretenses.

I was supervising the zone rotations.

They cornered me in the Eastern forest.

There was no warning.

No chance for dialogue."

A breath.

"It was either me or them.

I chose to live."

His words did not stir pity, only gravity.

Justiciar Elthra asked quietly.

"And what weapons did they use?"

"One carried a poisoned dagger tied to an imperial relic.

The other used forbidden binding runes."

A sharp murmur swept through the court. Forbidden arts on imperial property?

Justiciar Varek, in charge of Inheritance Law, tapped the hilt of his pen.

"Has this information been verified?"

The Ravenwood Chancellor bowed.

"Yes.

The forensic mages confirmed traces of venom and Class-A restricted rune activity."

Another Justiciar rose.

"This is no mere familial quarrel.

This was an assassination attempt on imperial grounds."

Malrich silenced the room again.

"Given the circumstances and verified evidence, this court deems the killing of the vassals as an act of self-defense.

Noah Ashbourne is hereby cleared of any charges.

There will be no suspension, penalty, or public punishment."

There was a strange silence .

As if the court held its breath.

Malrich's voice dropped a note.

"However... there is one more submission.

Received directly from Mister Noah Ashbourne."

A clerk approached the podium, holding a scroll with a wax seal in Ashbourne blue.

"This letter declares intent to sever all legal, financial, and bloodline ties with House Ashbourne.

Mister Noah Ashbourne has formally requested disownment."

Margaret let out a gasp that was quickly covered by her hand.

Amon looked like stone.

"Do you still hold this intent?"

Malrich asked.

Noah stepped closer.

"Yes."

The silence was deafening.

Malrich gestured.

"Then by imperial law, under Article IV of the Noble Severance Act, both parties must provide verbal and written consent.

Lord Amon?"

The man regarded Noah with a blank expression.

And yet behind his silence was a tempest. Of shame.

Of rage.

Of something like disappointment wrapped in aristocratic poison.

"So fragile."

Amon muttered.

"If this is enough to break you from your name... you were never of my blood.

Ashbournes endure.

You, boy... you were a flaw."

"Amon!"

Margaret snapped, but her husband waved her off.

Noah said nothing at first.

But then he pulled off his cloak, revealing a simple tunic.

No crest.

No name.

"Then let me be that flaw.

Because I would rather be a flaw who fights to live with dignity, than a son who keeps quiet to keep a name built on silence and pretense."

The court watched.

Noah walked to the Clerk's podium and signed.

Amon followed.

His signature was sharp.

Margaret stood between them.

Not officially part of the contract, but very much the human casualty.

"Please... don't do this, Noah.

You're my son.

You are."

Noah turned to her, softer now.

"You knew what they did.

You let it happen..."

"I tried...!

I—"

"Then try harder for the next child.

Not me."

He stepped back.

Malrich stamped the scroll.

"From this day forth, the boy formerly known as Noah Ashbourne shall no longer be recognized as an heir or affiliate of House Ashbourne.

He shall receive his lawful inheritance.

Twenty-two percent of the Ashbourne treasury, one parcel of land in the Northern Strip, and rights to his name and achievements earned independently."

The scroll was stored.

The hearing, officially closed.

But before leaving, Noah looked at both his parents.

And the chamber held its breath.

"All my life, I tried to belong in a place that only accepted the idea of me, not me.

I was never seen — only shaped.

When I failed, I was shamed.

When I succeeded, I was envied."

His voice wavered.

"I used to think if I just tried harder, you'd finally look at me.

Not as a mistake.

Not as a burden.

Just...as your son.

But I've learned something, Father.

Something you might never understand."

He stepped back into the shadow of the court.

"I'd rather be no one... than be someone in a house where love is conditional, and loyalty means silence."

Lady Margaret collapsed into her seat, weeping silently.

***

'All that shit I said back there?

I don't mean a damn word of it.

The tears, the regret, the loyalty act—it's all just theater.

A neat little performance for those stuck-up bastards in their robes and powdered wigs.

Truth is, I don't give a fuck.

They're dead. I'm alive.

That's all that matters.

Now I've got cash, autonomy, and no leash around my neck.

Disowning myself? Best choice I've made in this cursed-ass game.

One less variable.

One less walking bomb named "family."

I know it was her, my sweet, backstabbing sister.

That bitch has had it out for me from the start.

So, fuck that house.

Fuck the petty politics.

Fuck the noise.

I'm here to speedrun this shitshow.

No more filler arcs.

No side quests.

No fake attachments.

Main plot or bust.'