“Wandering below the edge of Light, you scurry along like a rat. Feeding off the scraps of this world, you continue to prolong your useless existence. Many Heretics have roamed this plane, all managing to spread their filthy roots slightly at the very least. You?”

A land where light laid not its radiance in—a land below Light. The gentle glow of red was the only source of luminance, that stemming from the disfigured face of man crawling on the ground. Though heavily obscured under the thick blanket of darkness, the burns and scars strewn all throughout his face were visible to Asies.

Muffled by the mud shoved into the crawling figure’s face, a cackle paraded through the darkness. “I’m really useless aren’t I? A Heretic, someone who dared to reject the blessings of the empire is here with a foot on his head! Should I come back? My Emperor, your humble knight is here to serve you once more! Take me back, pl—”

The voice riddled with contempt was silenced under the increased pressure placed upon his head. Instead, an apathetic statement continued in its stead. “Silence. Mockery towards the Empire is not permissible.”

Indeed, a sin worthy of execution without any further procedures had just been committed in front of Asies’ eyes. Yet the Heretic held onto his insignificant life. Even the absolute laws of the Empire had been bent for the existence of Jigril Margrave. Or rather, the existence of a Heretic.

And Jigril was astutely aware of the value he held for the Empire. Becoming cognizant of that fact was what allowed him to continue speaking even whilst facing the scythe of death. "Forgive me, dear Emissonary. I guess I've lost now, then? Will I be brought to prison, maybe? Who knows, I might become buddies with the ghost of your fathe—"

Once more, the cold words of Asies extinguished the fire coming from the mouth of Jigril. “Silence. You will be brought to the Divine Court. From now on, you are a prisoner of the Empire, one who will breathe only for as long as we seek; the clock of death has already descend upon yo—”

Jigril’s voice laced with disdain ensnared his own. “Seems like you’re still not over your father, dear Emissary?” As he completed his provocation, an azure light burst into existence, completely concentrating upon the now illuminated body of Jigril and dyeing him green. His body almost seemed to act as a filter, with every light beam that made contact with his flesh being tainted a pale verdant.

Eventually, the world returned back to the dim state it was before—like it had always been. All that remained was the low sound from the Emissary, Asies. “How pitiful. To think a Heretic would resort to suicide before their interrogation. Do not fret, Jigril Margrave. We are in full knowledge about your cowardly nature and have made our necessary preparations.”

With Asies’ word, Jigril entered a fit of laughter. He laughed until his mouth ran dry, paying no mind to the blood that escaped with every bellow.

This time, Asies had no desire to stop him. It had been recorded multiple times that Heretic’s would often live their final moments in a state of near insanity—the Scribes had hypothesised that by allowing them to indulge in the nonsense that plagued their existence they would become more docile.

So, Jigril laughed freely. At what, Asies could never know, but the insanity still remained. Time wasn’t slowing the flames, but instead fanning his laughter to even greater heights. Only as the hours continued to pass did Jigril’s cackles slowly come to a rest. Silence had returned.

Though they both couldn’t see through the coating of ebony.

They could feel it.

The eyes of another.

Asies began to mutter. “Protector of the world, the Carrier of Light, may this land be touched with your grace—Endless Retribution.

The land where light deterred from had been drenched in an obscenely bright wave of blue in the form of lightning. Thousands upon thousands of lightning bolts roared down into the land, threatening to usurp the darkness in an instant. However, it was not gracefully accepted by the land, instead having its radiance being swallowed by the darkness.

They pushed against each other, fighting for their territory by engulfing one another. Light, the vanisher of darkness, had started to become ravaged under its opponents might.

A voice came to its aid, proclaiming “The remnants of the Wicked feed of your Divine Grace—Light will be victorious!”

Their battle had come to an abrupt ending.

Light had prevailed over darkness. The strikes increased manifold and had turned the entirety of the world into its own beautiful cerulean.

With its victory, life was returned to the land as colour washed into its long lost homes. Cracked dirt spread for as far as the eye saw, and only that. No matter how much divinity Asies placed into his eyes, there wasn’t the slightest amount of change. A barren world—that was what he witnessed.

One small, repulsive figure was the single sign of life he saw whilst moving his eyes downwards. A body with tears and holes all throughout, the blood having already been dried up upon the body itself. White hair that seemed to have been sullied by the blood ran all the way down to his bent knees. Though the traces of clothing faintly remained, his naked body was veiled only by a hunched back.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

As the man continued to take a closer look, he felt a strange discrepancy. Each one of his limbs looked as though they weren't a match. His arms were of different length whilst the tone of his right leg was far lighter than his left. Asies took notice of his joints and nodded in understanding.

They were stitched on. Most likely, he had stolen the limbs of others and sown it onto his own.

This was ‘Jigril Margrave’s’ body—the living body of a Heretic.

Placing more pressure on the head he stood on, Asies smiled. “The Empire appreciates your willingness to show another realm of the Wicked. As a sign of courtesy, allow me to bring you to the Emperor.”

He placed his hand on the falling shoulders of Jigril, noting the slight twitch whilst doing so, and flung him up.

Jigril gave no reply.

Rather, he couldn’t. By the time he heard the words of the Emissary, his consciousness had already begun to wane. And now, his injuries had fully caught up to him. Hanging onto a miniscule thread of life, he entered the world of unconsciousness.

—

“We will now begin the trial of Heretic Jigril Margrave.”

Those were the words that the Emissary decided to greet the now conscious Jigril. Although the Heretic showed no signs of being awake, he instinctively knew; this is how it had always been when chasing after the damned demon.

“You continue to play these silly games, Jigril. What good is it to close your eyes when you forced us to spend 17 months learning how to detect [Intent] just to grab a simple trail of where you were? When you left us no choice but to kill our own men because of your doppelganger? How many lives have you ruined, Jigril Margrave? How many soldiers, how many civilians, how many humans have you desecrated?”

Those behind the Emissary gritted their teeth after hearing his word. There were few people unaffected by the dances of Jigril, and those with grievances were innumerable.

Whilst they continued to stare at the still bloodied body of Jigril, both arms and legs shackled to the wall with chains, steps rang through the shadowy room. Every individual dropped to their knees in an instant, saying the same words.

“Greetings to the Emperor.”

Nothing but a misty haze could be seen entering through the door. It began to condense, slowly creating the vague outline of a crown; more and more of the haze continued to spiral into itself, forming a tangible body of a frail man. The man’s grey hair was cut short, allowing for the entirety of his wrinkled face to be seen. His back was bent over, and a look to his hands revealed a cane. What caught the Emissary’s attention, however, was his eyes. Deep crimson pupils pulled everything around it towards the endless abyss.

They were completely bloodshot.

The Emperor of Asang—Herald de Grace Francis.

Asies felt a heavy weight push down on him with the Emperor's arrival, a sentiment shared by all situated within his presence. Bowing was both a mental and physical instinct facing him.

But the Emperor paid no heed to the few ten people giving their respects. His eyes had darted towards one specific individual.

Looking at the body of Jigril Margrave, his cane started to shake, the reverberations deafeningly loud in the silence. As though irritated with his own reaction, he slammed it down onto the floor, sending it spiralling across the floor.

He paced forwards, ignoring the threats of falling he faced from his body.

Before anyone could stop him, he smashed his head into Jigril’s, splurging blood out from Jigril's nose.

“...You.” He gazed at the cracked face of Jigril in silence. “Open those eyes. Look me in the eye. Look me in the eye you scum. Look at the man who saved your life in the eye and tell them why you betrayed him. You must have a grand reason, right? Or was it for some thrill? You must have been so excited when you killed her, right? Was it fun? Looking at their dying bodies whilst they floundered in pain and confusion as to which enemy had killed them? You’ve been running for how many hundred years now?”

Jigril did not reply, not even opening his eyes at the words of the Emperor. All he did was give a melodious smile.

“Of course! Asies, begin the preparations! The Divine Oracle has already determined what we must do. Act out the will we have inherited. Remember! The Cultist of Cerberia, the Kingdom of Aries and Cynthia, the Rojan Empire, the Heavenly Palace and most likely organisations from the other continents. It’s just a matter of time until they find out about the capture of this era’s Heretic. We have to act with haste. Everything should be done before they send out their full force to capture Jigril for themselves.”

Asies nodded, and those behind him started to shuffle around. They shuffled into a semi circle around Jigril and raised their arms out. A soft glow began to sizzle behind Asies whilst he grabbed a book from the counter and started to oversee the contents.

He couldn’t help but ask. “...A Heretical Awakening. If I was to ask you about what it means, would you tell me Jigril?” That was the main objective of this entire operation. He, collaborating with Herald de Grace Francis, had risked bearing the enmity of perhaps the entire world just for this.

To understand what it meant to be a Heretic.

And how a Heretic was born.

Once more, Jigril remained silent. But he had given his response.

A ridiculous, exaggerated grin bloomed from his face, opposing the current atmosphere within the hidden room.

“So be it.”

The circle had started to chant aloud whilst the Emperor tried balancing his shaking body from the side.

“Human and demon. Demon and human. Both are one. Let the boundary separating life cease, and enter one true self.”

Golden particulates began to agglomerate in the air, syphoning around the circle; every inch of the walls had turned into different hues revealing engraved carvings as they continued spinning whilst flashing archaic insignias.

“Past, present and future. All are one! Foregoing time and entering the true world! Recollecting the entity of humans, what they are, and understanding what is to come!”

Hundreds of strands representing a multitude of lustres pierced through Jigril’s body, lifting him up from the ground slightly.

“We will now begin the trial of Heretic Jigril Margrave!”