Section 50: The Aftermath (Part I)
Recently, a succession of major events on the continent has revolved around the Republic of Landia in the south, thrusting the nation into the spotlight. It began when the Fae occupied the southern city of Heldasin, only to retreat inexplicably. Simultaneously, an uprising erupted in Landia’s Gaul region, where the Comminesen Revolutionary Group—long dismissed by other nations as mere bandits—seized the city of Gaul and reportedly repelled the local regular army. Logically, the Landian government should have immediately launched a punitive expedition. Unexpectedly, however, Landia merely withdrew the 1st Battalion, which had been stationed there, to hold the strategic chokepoints leading to the central and southern regions, adopting a defensive posture rather than attempting to retake the city. Even though the Comminesen Revolutionary Group had previously been routed by Landian government forces, this time they had truly made a name for themselves.
The human kingdoms of the east and center did not take this opportunity to mock Landia. Instead, they were secretly delighted, as these bandits had indirectly done them a favor by stabbing Fahrenheit in the back at such a critical juncture. Yet, they could not count on further assistance from Gaul, as the leader of the revolutionary group seemed preoccupied with his own affairs. He lacked the strength and preparation to immediately surge out of the Gaul region and join the coming continental storm, unless someone were willing to help him—perhaps by providing substantial material aid. Someone had indeed suggested this: since the Plantagenet forces, originally planning a pincer attack by sea, had run into trouble with the sudden Fae offensive, perhaps the revolutionary group could be utilized. Heaven knows what had gotten into those Fae; some suspected Fahrenheit was behind it, though it was hard to believe he could hire the sea-dwelling orcs, who considered themselves masters of the ocean and viewed land-dwelling humans merely as guests of the sea.
However, the Church vetoed this suggestion. It is said that after the Tribunal studied the history of the revolutionary leader, they suspected he might be a blasphemer. A judge and three enforcers from the Third Enforcement Group had already been dispatched to investigate, and if the suspicions were confirmed, he would be dealt with. The Third Enforcement Group had yet to send back precise intelligence, but it was reported that the revolutionary leader had survived a terrifying assassination attempt while in the countryside, suppressing gentry and minor lords who opposed the Gaul regime. The mastermind remains unidentified; some believe it was the minor lords whose estates and property were confiscated by the revolutionary regime who pooled their money to hire the killer. Witnesses claimed the assassin used what appeared to be Far Eastern Taoist arts, wielding a flying sword. This assassination attempt effectively extinguished the hopes of certain factions in the east and center that Gaul could pin down Landia, as both the attacker and the target were wounded—though it was said the assassin’s injuries were more severe, and even the flying sword was damaged. With both internal troubles and external threats, it seemed unlikely the leader would help others without personal gain.
There was one other major event whose details remained known to only a few: the grand debate that had just taken place on Capitol Hill in Landia. The proceedings were accorded a rare level of confidentiality; only members of Congress or those with special authorization could read the records, which would not be disclosed until Congress granted permission or the classification period expired.
Following this debate, members of Congress held a vote. While the results were not confidential, Landia officially announced its rejection of the proposal and the secret treaty brought by the Church envoy. This news alone was enough to excite the public, whose enthusiasm had already been ignited by a minor civil case. Many were in such a state of agitation that they overlooked the amendments Congress had made to the law, adding specific definitions to manslaughter and murder. This judicial interpretation stipulated that any means used to cause the death of a citizen’s soul, even if the physical body remained unharmed, would be treated as manslaughter or murder depending on the circumstances.
Out of concerns similar to those of the Church—fear that the revelation would cause panic and the collapse of social order, especially given the potential for war with the Church—and because the legislators were still in heated debate over whether "transmigration" constituted manslaughter or intentional murder, it was decided to withhold the news for the time being. Of course, fueled by fear, they could not ignore the issue entirely; they needed at least some legal framework regarding these "transmigrators" to find a measure of reassurance, which led to the addition of this judicial interpretation.
In truth, at the Zodiac Council held more than a month later, the monthly meeting of these transmigrators turned into a session mocking Landia’s judicial interpretation. When the legislators made this decision, they likely did not understand that transmigrators had no choice in their arrival. Thus, if a transmigration caused someone’s death, while it carried a hint of original sin, it was something the transmigrators themselves could not control—if they could, they might have already gone back. Since it was uncontrollable, the law’s ability to deter criminals or prevent crime was nonexistent; it would only make the transmigrators vigilant, causing them to cover their tracks by any means necessary.
Once these judicial interpretations—and eventually specialized laws targeting transmigrators—took hold, transmigrators would effectively become public enemies.
However, as Congressman Kidd noted, the lack of means to detect and contain them eventually forced nations across the continent to lift the bans on black magic and soul magic. These were officially sanctioned by states and even entered into higher magical academies, listed as subjects for apprentices alongside elemental and white magic, in the hope that research into black and soul magic would help identify whether different souls had ever existed within a single body. Even so, effective containment remained elusive, for without prior suspicion, even the most centralized feudal state could not perform soul identification on everyone. This was doubly true for a nation like Landia, which championed democracy, freedom, and the sanctity of private property, and where citizens dared to defy any authority within their own homes; it was even harder for judicial institutions to actively perform soul identification without evidence.
To a certain extent, democracy and freedom became a protective cloak for the transmigrators. Ironically, other nations eventually adopted similar judicial interpretations and statutes. Later, detectives in Plantagenet successfully used this law to solve a murder case involving Far Eastern Taoist arts, bringing to justice a criminal who had used such magic to perform "body snatching."