"So you truly believe you're safe hiding behind your walls?" Erwin Smith's voice rang through the courtroom like thunder.
A noble scoffed, but Erwin's sharp gaze silenced him instantly.
"None of you here," Erwin continued,
"have witnessed the destruction wrought by the Colossal Titan and the Armored Titan. But I have. The only reason humanity has lived peacefully inside these walls for the past century is because a king, one hundred years ago, built them for us! Fifty meters high—our supposed salvation!"
He took a step forward, eyes blazing. "And now, a Titan sixty meters tall—taller than the walls themselves—has appeared! Tell me, do you still think we are safe?"
Gasps rippled across the audience. Panic spread like wildfire.
A Titan taller than the wall—such a thing was unthinkable.
"Wake up!" Erwin roared. "Our days of comfort are ending! If humanity does not learn to fight back, we will perish!"
The crowd erupted into uneasy murmurs. The nobles exchanged wary glances. For so long, people had lived under the illusion that the walls were absolute. But now, with one Titan already larger than their greatest defense, who could say how long their safety would last?
At last, Commander-in-Chief Zachary spoke. "You stated in your report that the Colossal and Armored Titans were slain by the Beast Titan?"
"Yes," Erwin confirmed.
A collective sigh of relief swept through the courtroom.
So the monster that breached their wall was dead.
But Erwin's next words shattered that comfort like glass.
"If a Titan taller than the wall has appeared once," he said, "what stops another from appearing—one twice, even ten times as tall?"
The silence that followed was suffocating.
"…You make a fair point," Zachary admitted. "We must prepare before it's too late—"
"Prepare?" The Left Minister suddenly interjected, his voice sharp with contempt. "What is there to prepare for? This Beast Titan is a man-eater! Why call it a 'Beast Titan' instead of a 'Human Titan'? Because once he transforms, he becomes a mindless animal! Why should we keep such a creature alive?"
The nobles nodded in agreement. "He's right! A beast is a beast!"
Whispers filled the chamber again—fear and disgust woven together.
Erwin didn't flinch. "Rest assured," he said clearly, "Zeke Yeager does not lose his mind when he transforms. Only after extended battle, when his stamina and focus collapse, does he temporarily lose control. Otherwise, he remains fully conscious."
Zachary nodded, flipping through the report. "That is consistent with the testimony here."
He frowned, though, his irritation plain. The report had only reached his desk minutes before the trial began. The Survey Corps had been tight-lipped, refusing to release any information beforehand. Now he was forced to judge in real time, in front of the king and the nobles.
Still, the content intrigued him. A controllable Titan… he mused. If this is true, then humanity's counterattack may finally be possible.
But of course, that wasn't something he could announce publicly. Not here.
He couldn't just say: If feeding a few civilians to Zeke means victory, so be it.
The people would riot before they understood.
So he pressed on formally. "After you captured Zeke, did you conduct any transformation experiments to confirm his stability?"
Erwin shook his head. "No. Zeke explained that transformation requires a Titan serum, and he currently has none. Without it, he cannot transform."
"In other words," Zachary summarized, "he is harmless for now?"
"Yes."
"Then why is he still gagged?"
"…That was the Military Police Brigade's decision," Erwin replied carefully.
Zachary rubbed his temple. "Wonderful. Then let's remove it. There are questions I must ask him directly."
The Left Minister's face turned ashen. "No! Absolutely not! What if he transforms the moment it's removed? Have you forgotten His Majesty is here?"
All eyes turned toward the King—a frail, white-bearded man lounging on his throne, chin resting lazily in his hands, expression glazed and indifferent.
He didn't seem concerned that a Titan-shifter was kneeling mere meters away.
Zachary glanced at him, then back at the minister. "While His Majesty's safety remains paramount, this time we have no choice. The Survey Corps' report is incomplete, and vital truths about the Titan phenomenon remain locked in Zeke's mind. If we silence him, we silence knowledge itself!"
The Left Minister faltered. "But—"
"Did you even read the report?" Zachary cut in sharply.
"Of course I did!" the minister stammered.
Zachary's eyes narrowed. He could see the pristine edges of the untouched papers on the man's desk. Not a single page had been turned. The king's report, even worse, still lay unopened.
A sigh escaped Zachary's lips. Idiots… all of them.
Straightening, he turned to face the throne. "Your Majesty," he said formally, bowing. "I humbly request permission to remove Zeke Yeager's gag so that he may testify and restore the truth about the Titans."
All eyes turned to the king.
For a moment, he remained motionless—then blinked, as though just realizing he'd been spoken to.
"Ah?" he muttered vaguely, rubbing his chin. "Have you eaten? Oh… good, good."
The Left Minister went pale.
A long, dreadful silence followed.
Even Erwin, composed as he was, couldn't mask the flicker of disbelief on his face.
Humanity's fate was being decided by a man who didn't even know where he was.