When a Filipino got Isekai'd with a twist!
Volume 2 "only I can summon those!"
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Chapter 22 :Gallows Gumbit!
A day that was supposed to display the strength and justice of the Empire…
A day that would be remembered as the execution of the fallen hero.
But no one expected that everything would go down in flames.
Empire Execution Grounds – Plaza
The sky was clear. The warmth of the sun brightened the massive open plaza. Thousands of people—commoners and nobles—gathered in one place to witness the execution of one of the summoned heroes. At the center was a stage reinforced with magic. Soldiers and mages guarded the area, both on ground and on nearby rooftops.
Thunderous silence blanketed the moment Chris was dragged onto the scaffold, bruised but unbowed. His face, bloodied and swollen, still held defiance in his eyes as he was forced to kneel. Chains clinked as they bound his arms.
The crowd of nobles, rulers, and soldiers watched—some smug, others uneasy.
On a balcony above, nine thrones stood in formation, each occupied by a ruler. Mind-controlled, their eyes held that same unnatural violet hue. Queen Valeria Eragon of the Dragon Kingdom stared blankly forward. Beside her, King Maluckis of the Beastmen sat unnaturally still, lips curled in a faint, permanent sneer.
Queen Amara of the Sunlight Empire radiated false serenity. King Barok of the Desert Dominion's fists clenched the arms of his chair. Queen Iridia of Frostspire looked regal and cold, her breath misting with every exhale even in the summer heat. King Daemon Varkul, armored and imposing, seemed the most restless—his greatsword resting beside his chair like an executioner's axe. And Queen Selene of Hollow Vale, pale and veiled in black, seemed almost... amused.
Meanwhile, Queen Jessabel of the Mermaid Kingdom and King Eldrin of the Elves sat separated from the rest, their expressions tense and wary. Neither of them showed signs of mind control, but they were being watched closely by guards. King Youm was absent—his seat unoccupied.
A priest stood at the ready, and beside him stood the one in charge of carrying out the execution—a black-hooded knight holding a massive scythe enchanted with a [Holy] attribute. It was the kind of weapon used for beheading the undead.
From the audience's perspective, it was just another criminal about to meet justice. But to some, it was a ticking time bomb.
Behind the main platform stood a raised tower. Inside were nobles, generals, and important ministers of the Empire. Lyra, now disguised in noble garb, sat beside an imperial official. She'd used her connections and status as a fellow hero to earn her place. Sitting behind her, still keeping a low profile, was Serena.
Serena clenched her fists tightly. Her heart pounded in her chest. She was holding herself back. This wasn't just some staged execution. Chris was innocent. All of them knew it.
"Lyra… are you sure about this?" Serena whispered, her voice low and tense.
Lyra didn't look back. "If we charge in without evidence or backup, it's over. We're not the only ones here. Trust the others."
"Right…" Serena took a breath, her eyes scanning the area. She could feel something was off. It wasn't just the weight of the event—there was something… sinister. Her gaze settled on the hooded executioner. Her gut screamed at her that something wasn't right.
Elsewhere – Within the Crowd
Josh, Cane, and Vismond moved through the crowd in disguise. They wore cloaks and blended in with the citizens. Their eyes tracked the stage, their hands ready.
"No sign of the Chameleon yet," Cane muttered.
"He'll show up. This whole circus was staged by him. If he wants attention, he'll make a move," Josh replied.
"What's the plan?" Vismond asked.
"We wait for the right moment. Lyra's buying us time. Serena's the key witness. We just need to expose the truth in front of everyone."
"And if we fail?" Vismond asked again, his voice cold.
"Then we die trying," Josh said firmly. "But we're not leaving Chris to die. Not like this."
Inside the Execution Tower – High Platform
Frank Abigneil, disguised as a noble official, stood among the Empire's ministers. He wore a perfect mask of composure. No one suspected the man standing beside the Emperor himself was a clone—a mere puppet of the real Chameleon. The real Frank was somewhere else… watching everything unfold.
He smiled as the execution was about to begin.
"Let's see how far your hope gets you, Hero of Luck."
Underground – Sewer Passage Near the Plaza
Yingston gritted his teeth, slamming his fist against the old tunnel wall. "Dammit, Chris… you idiot. You should've said something."
The old hero was covered in dirt and sweat. He'd followed the trail left by Serena's story. The truth about the Chameleon, the real enemy, and the false accusations.
"This execution is a trap," he growled, climbing the last rung of a hidden ladder that led directly under the plaza stage. "I'm not too old to fix a damn mistake."
Back at the Execution Grounds
The executioner stepped forward. The priest raised his hand. "By order of the Empire, and under the will of the gods, may this soul be judged and by decree of the Empire and in accordance with the Alliance Laws, the accused—Christopher Revyn of the Otherworld—is sentenced to public execution for crimes against the people and treason against the crown."
A robed figure stood beside the executioner, reading from a scroll. Chris chuckled hoarsely, lifting his head.
"You're all just puppets. Do you even know what you're saying?"
Suddenly, a loud explosion echoed across the plaza. A shockwave hit the stands as dust and smoke clouded the sky. Screams erupted. Panic spread.
The executioner was blasted back by a sudden strike. From the rooftops, arrows rained down—fired not by the guards, but by cloaked figures moving at blinding speed.
Josh and Cane leapt into action. Vismond snapped his fingers, and a wave of dark energy shot upward, shielding the crowd from falling debris.
Chris, still shackled, lifted his head and smirked.
"Took you long enough."
---
Execution Platform – Shrouded in Smoke
The magical chains binding Chris began to spark as if reacting to the surrounding chaos. The stage groaned under the force of the earlier blast. As the dust started to clear, figures emerged—fast and precise.
Josh slid across the cracked platform and landed beside Chris, his hands already glowing with [Dispel] magic.
"These chains are reinforced with divine seals," Josh muttered.
Cane landed hard just behind him, fending off a wave of panicked soldiers charging up the stage.
"Then break the damn divine part," Cane snapped, parrying a spear and launching a backhanded punch that sent a knight flying.
Chris looked at them with tired eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Knew you idiots would come…"
Josh gritted his teeth. "Don't talk. Save your strength."
Behind them, Vismond had already engaged the mages stationed across the rooftop. His blades hummed with mana as he dashed between cover, deflecting fire spells and retaliating with sharp bursts of [Void Cuts].
In the VIP Tower – Lyra's Side
"What's happening?!" shouted one of the ministers, standing in panic.
"It's an attack!" another noble shrieked, reaching for his enchanted brooch to teleport away—only to find it disabled.
The entire tower was sealed.
Lyra stood up slowly, her hand calmly reaching for the concealed dagger at her thigh.
Serena stepped forward too, her expression fierce.
"Everyone, stay seated," Lyra said, her voice low but commanding.
Some of the ministers paused, stunned by her authority.
The suspicious knight who had escorted them earlier moved beside Lyra, drawing his sword—but Serena reacted instantly.
She lunged and tackled him over the railing with a feral yell. They crashed down onto the second level balcony.
The knight's body twisted unnaturally—and flickered.
The skin began to peel away, revealing glowing blue circuits beneath.
"A clone!" Serena hissed, rolling away just as it exploded in a burst of corrupted mana.
Meanwhile – Beneath the Plaza
Yingston emerged from the hatch just beneath the execution stage. His eyes scanned the chaos above.
He saw Chris—still shackled—but smiling.
He saw Josh and Cane fending off elite soldiers.
And he saw the real threat wasn't the soldiers or the executioner anymore.
It was the silence behind the noise.
"…Frank, where are you?" Yingston muttered. His body tensed as he sensed movement behind him.
A faint chuckle echoed through the cavern beneath the platform.
"You're late, old man."
Yingston spun around, but there was no one—only mist.
In the Sky Above – The Real Chameleon Watches
Perched atop a distant spire, wrapped in an invisibility cloak, the real Frank Abigneil—The Chameleon—watched it all unfold with mild amusement.
"So… they really pulled it off," he said softly.
He held a crystal orb in his hand, showing multiple angles of the chaos.
"But let's see if they can deal with the real game…"
He raised his other hand and crushed the orb.
At that moment, the mind-controlled knights hidden within the crowd activated. Their eyes glowed red, and their bodies jerked unnaturally.
Chaos exploded tenfold.
Chris's Shackles – On the Edge of Breaking
Josh slammed his palms onto the chains one last time, casting [Overload Dispel].
A blast of raw mana cracked the divine shackles.
Chris fell forward, caught by Cane before hitting the ground.
"Up, hero," Cane grinned. "We've still got hell to pay."
Chris took a deep breath. Despite everything—his body still ached, but his will hadn't broken.
"Let's end this."
---
Execution Plaza – Moments After the Shackles Break
Screams tore through the crowd as the glowing-eyed knights turned their blades on civilians, their movements rigid, unnatural—like puppets with frayed strings. One struck down a fleeing man without hesitation. Another lunged toward a mother shielding her child.
"Mind control," Josh cursed. "Frank's last card."
"Protect the people!" Cane barked, rushing forward, his greatsword flashing in wide arcs to deflect an incoming halberd.
Chris steadied himself. His body was weak, clothes torn and bloodied—but his eyes held fire. He picked up a broken knight's spear, snapped it into a makeshift polearm, and joined the fray.
Vismond landed beside them, bloodied but grinning. "Stage is ours. But the crowd? It's theirs."
"Not for long," Chris muttered. "Josh—can you cast an area barrier?"
Josh nodded. "On it."
He slammed his staff into the stone and chanted fast. A pulse of green light radiated outward, forming a dome-shaped [Sanctuary Barrier] around the platform and the nearby civilians.
"Move everyone inside the circle!" Josh shouted. "It'll break if I get hit!"
Above – Lyra Takes the Floor
Lyra stepped onto the railing of the VIP balcony, cloak fluttering behind her, dagger in hand. Her voice rang out loud and clear, enhanced by a subtle wind spell Serena cast behind her.
"People of the Empire! Listen to me!"
The nobles looked up, some in confusion, others still frozen in fear. The crowd below caught her voice even amid the chaos.
"You were told the heroes betrayed us—but that was a lie! The true enemy is among you!"
She pointed downward—toward one of the guards retreating toward the eastern gate. A harmless, forgettable man in simple armor.
His body twitched.
The glamour broke.
The Chameleon clone flickered, circuits tearing across its skin as it unraveled into a glassy mimic-construct.
"Frank Abigneil!" Lyra shouted, her voice full of fury. "Stop hiding behind puppets!"
Back in the Plaza – Serena's Face-off
Serena landed next to the disintegrated construct, panting. A knight charged her from the side—but she didn't flinch.
She raised her hand—and golden flames erupted from her palm.
[Sunflare Burst] engulfed the knight, burning through the corrupted magic in his body without killing him.
Serena narrowed her eyes. "That was a real knight… not a clone. He's controlling their minds directly…"
Underground – Yingston vs. the Real One
Yingston stepped into a hidden sanctum beneath the stage. Pillars lined with arcane runes pulsed in red. And at the center—standing by a pulsing core of mana—was the real Frank Abigneil.
He turned slowly, clapping.
"I must admit… I didn't think they'd make it this far."
"You've hurt enough people," Yingston said coldly, his hand on his sword.
Frank chuckled. "You of all people should know… chaos needs a spark."
"Then I'll snuff it out."
Yingston charged forward, blade drawn.
Frank met him with a twist of his gauntlet, summoning dozens of spectral blades. The room exploded into a deadly dance of steel and sorcery.
Above – Final Rally
Josh dropped to one knee, blood leaking from his lip.
"The barrier won't hold much longer!"
Cane stood beside him, sword buried in a knight's chest. "We need a clear signal to turn this around!"
Chris looked up at Lyra. Their eyes met.
And without words—he moved.
He sprinted toward the central tower, scaling debris and leaping onto broken scaffolding, bloodied polearm in hand.
"CHRIS!!" Lyra cried.
He reached the highest remaining platform, facing the city—and shouted at the top of his lungs:
"WE ARE NOT TRAITORS!"
"Frank Abigneil—the Chameleon—he framed us! If you don't believe me… look into the eyes of your brothers, your sisters—look at what he's done to them!"
He threw down the spear and raised his chained hands to the sky, still bearing marks of torture and truth magic.
"I stand before you not as a hero—but as a man betrayed. If you still have a heart, stand with me now!"
For a heartbeat—nothing.
Then—
One knight dropped his sword.
Then another.
A healer ran into the plaza to tend to the wounded, ignoring the orders of the panicking guards.
And then cheers—uneven, scattered—but real.
The people were waking up.
Frank snarled as he and Yingston clashed blow for blow, their battle lighting up the sanctum in bursts of mana.
"You'll regret this, Yingston!"
"I already do," Yingston muttered. "But not as much as you will."
Their blades clashed—sparks flying.
---" this kid his copying is the other corpse beside norcten and this kid is a good kid. This mother fucker dare to use people face to for his personal game." He shouted inside himself.
A Week Before the Execution — Hidden Cabin in the Eastern Woods
Yingston pushed aside a broken branch and stepped cautiously into the small, abandoned cabin. The air inside was stale, mixed with dust and the faint metallic scent of old blood. His eyes scanned the room, settling on a figure slumped in the corner. The skin was gray and dry, the eyes sunken deep into their sockets.
Norcten.
He'd come searching for answers about the Chameleon—the man behind the false executions, the puppet master controlling the kings and queens. Norcten was one of the few who might have known the truth.
But now, he was dead. For months, by the looks of it.
Yingston crouched, inspecting the body with a keen eye.
"There's no signs of a struggle. No wounds besides natural decay," he murmured. Then, his gaze fell on the faint glow of the core slot—empty.
"Tch... his core was stolen." Yingston muttered under his breath.
A knight behind him stepped closer, voice low and urgent. "Stolen, sir?!"
"Yeah. If the reports are right, Norcten had the ability to manipulate people's minds and create clones. That core is the source of his power," Yingston explained grimly. "It means one thing: everything that's happened so far is part of a plan—to weaken the Alliance forces, to make us turn on each other, and to drive away our heroes."
He stood slowly, eyes darkening with resolve.
"This isn't just a war of armies. It's a war of trust and deception."
He pulled out a small enchanted mirror from his cloak, flicking it open.
"King Eldrin," he said quietly, activating the secure link.
The mirror shimmered, and the stern face of King Eldrin appeared, his silver hair catching the dim light.
"I've found Norcten, and one young knight beside him the one I ordered to follow norcten." Yingston reported. "But he's dead. It looks like he's been here for months. The body was carefully hidden, staged to look like old decay, but the fresh ash suggests someone's been here recently—someone cleaning up."
Eldrin's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't look surprised.
"We feared as much," the king said. "Norcten was a threat to someone powerful. Someone who's been moving in the shadows for a long time."
"Do we have a lead?" Yingston asked.
Eldrin hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "The knight who escorted Lyra and Serena—the one in the dragon palace. We've been watching him closely. We suspect he's connected to the Chameleon, perhaps even a clone or a disguise."
Yingston's jaw tightened. "I'll keep an eye on him."
"Good," Eldrin said firmly. "Be discreet. We cannot afford to expose our hand prematurely."
---
Present — Imperial Execution Plaza
Smoke choked the air as the crowd scattered in panic. Mind-controlled knights rose, faces blank and eyes glazed, their swords swinging erratically. The rulers under Frank Abigneil's control stood like statues, puppets on strings.
Yingston crouched on a rooftop overlooking the chaos, scanning the plaza below.
His gaze locked onto the knight who had escorted Lyra and Serena—the very one Eldrin warned about. But now, the man was gone, vanished as if swallowed by the air.
Suddenly, a chilling voice cut through the turmoil.
"Let the final act begin."
Frank Abigneil stepped into the open, his form shifting, flickering like a flame. The real Chameleon revealed himself at last.
Yingston's heart hammered. He leapt into motion, boots lighting with elven wind magic, propelling him toward the balcony where Frank stood.
"This ends now," Yingston muttered, eyes burning with resolve.
To be continued....