Chapter 157.2 - Epilogue - Judge (II)

It was simple, really. It was the terrifying difficulty of advancing each step in these condensed sequences. Elias was one out of hundreds out of thousands who managed to actually form a coherent viewpoint for this sequence without losing himself.

Walter liked to believe his guidance was what allowed Elias to pass the hurdles that thousands in the Citadel failed. And even the angels agreed not to mess with Elias's environment and call him back.

It was hard work, really. Walter had almost lost his life to the kid's prowess many times. It had taken them a lot of trial and error to reach the current process where Elias could assassinate the targets without incurring heavy backlashes. And even then, the kid would come back depressed and bloody at times.

Suddenly, his hand moved and the words read, 'Stop with your flowery words,' and Walter's expression dropped. 'I give you three weeks, Walter. If the ruling class of Elmhurst isn't dead in three weeks, the child of death shall be handed over to a more capable Shepherd.'

"No way!" he shouted. He was the one who carved this rough gem into the terrifying onyx he'd become. He was the one who guided him on the path of an observer. How could they hand over his project of blood, sweat, and tears over to someone else just like that?

"Agh!!" he slammed his fist on the table.

However, he knew he couldn't let his fiery emotions color his words. Not when talking to the Angel. It wouldn't end well.

Gritting his teeth, he activated Calm Mind and his surging emotions ebbed. With a clearer head, he explained, 'I will do my best to fulfill your commands, Angel. However, as the seraphic lord may already know, the child of death requires damning evidence against every life he harvests.'

'To leave no gaps and avoid future backlash to the child, I have to forge the evidence with the most rigorous standards. Silence any witnesses that may say otherwise and bury any leads that extend outwards from my imitations.'

'Now, while I revel in doing the Lady's bidding, I am but a single man with limited means. My methods of collecting evidence against forth-shade and higher observers are quite limited and can be insufficient. However, if my seraphic lord could lend me the Eye of Seraph…'

Walter stopped there. He didn't want to overextend himself. He was but an early fourth-shade Influencer of the Shepherd sequence. He couldn't afford to offend his ruling angel. Yet, if he had the Eye of Seraph in his hand, he could surely find ways to help Elias ascend.

And this was all true. He didn't dare lie to the Angel. Evidence was how he wielded the knife that was Elias. Perhaps the only way. The kid's morals were absolute, and he wouldn't budge unless it was clear that the target was pure evil.

When there was no response for a while, his heart ramped up, and he sipped the coffee one more time with trembling hands, finding no comfort in its aroma.

Soon, his hand wrote, 'Sheperd Leah will handle gathering the evidence and forward it to you. Focus on the child's ascension to the second shade. Don't disappoint me.'

Walter narrowed his eyes. Leah was an Orchestrator of the fifth shade. He had to be careful while working with her.

Nonetheless, he replied with deference, 'Your will is my command, my seraphic lord.'

Soon came a response, 'Shepherd Walter, Dusk Angel has dismissed me. Would you like to begin a two-way conversation with Shepherd Leah right now?'

Walter looked at the wall clock. It had only been a few minutes. Elias shouldn't be done by now. The kid always spent a lot of time poring over the evidence.

With a nod, he wrote, 'Yes, please.'

----------------------------------------

Crrankk

Elias stepped out of the creaky elevator, greeted by a host of cogs and wheels. Gigantic clock hands and pendulums hummed and clicked in their hypnotic rhythm of Tick Tock, not minding his intrusion at all.

Ignoring these contraptions, he made for the door out to the perimeter balcony of the clock tower and opened it a touch.

Cold wind buffeted his face, and his jacket billowed as he took in the sight that still managed to steal his breath. Tens of disjoint islands connected together with each other by nothing but bridges that seemed too frail from up here reflected in his eyes and he appreciated them in silence.

"A clear day," he murmured. That meant the convict wasn't just evil but unlucky, too. After all, Creeping Visitor didn't perform as well on a foggy day.

Having checked the weather, he closed the door and walked back in, making his way toward the empty bulletin board tucked in the corner.

With a screech, he pulled it to the center and opened the envelope Walter gave him. Using the plethora of thumbtacks on the board, he hung up each piece of evidence one by one.

Victim's photographs, Sigil-bearing letters of communication about the kidnappings, requests of 'purchase of broken goods,' financial ledgers, personal diary cutouts of victims—everything was here.

In the middle of them all, he nailed the image of the hateful bastard who was the ringleader of all this.

Elias peered over each account and detail multiple times, checking their dates, timings, handwriting, and logical consistency. A narrative formed in his mind in no time.

It detailed the treacherous rise of Simon Razus—an unscrupulous baron who crossed the heights of depravity for greater power and position. Disgust, revulsion, and loathing deepened in his mind as Elias studied the map, which pointed at the man's residence.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

After reviewing the evidence again, he uttered, "Filth."

Filth that must be removed.

Duskfall was supposed to be the rebirth of society. What other phenomenon could weed out the deep-seated corruption of the ruling class like an apocalypse that ended a third of the world's population? None.

This was meant to be the change that ushered their civilization into a meritocracy unlike any other. He had noticed a trend where natural selection deleted more of these corrupted nobles rather than the middle class that deserved to rise.

However, things didn't go the way they should have. They never did. Such a massive shake-up of the ruling class instead triggered their defensive instincts, where they ceded control over the outer districts and doubled down on their inner sanctum, slowly reclaiming the lost territories as their internal structure stabilized.

It was a masterful recovery plan that Elias could only praise, if not for its terrible consequences. When the districts were brought back to the fold once again, those filthy rich nobles continued to be the rulers who governed the lives of the masses. Very few positions of power were supplanted by those with merit. Rest were filled by incompetent offspring of those who were the very root of this corruption.

Nonetheless, if things stopped there, Elias might have held hope for the system and continued his seemingly fruitless endeavor to change it from the inside regardless of what Walter said.

But it didn't.

He stared at all the damning evidence in front of him. It was a horrifying window into the rotten soul of those at the top. How could any city, country, or empire ever really be 'good' if it condoned something like this?

He thought that slavery was the worst this city could throw at him.

But this…?

Forcefully creating mentally vegetative observers on the brink of losing control for the sake of fulfilling twisted sexual desires?

His fist crashed into the wall with a resounding thump as his blood boiled. With a sharp, deep breath, he eyed the perpetrator, almost doubting that such an innocent-looking man could commit such heinous acts.

But Walter hasn't lied to me. Not even once.

Finding the claims in Walter's evidence preposterous over the past few weeks, he'd gone out of his way to investigate the cases from ground up on his own, only to arrive at the same conclusion as Walter.

.

.

.

"FILTH!" he roared, unable to contain his fury.

Zzzzttt

The sunlight seeping in from the windows found itself extinguished as a dark haze materialized around Elias. His chestnut hair floated, lifted by an unseen force, and his eyes burned with an intense, otherworldly light. The air around him crackled, heavy with a palpable, dark energy.

Outside the clocktower, beyond his sight, this darkness radiated out in a sphere many meters wide. A crow sitting atop the highest pier of the tower cawed in terror and attempted to fly away but failed. Its body shriveled in the first ten seconds then decayed, and before the wind could even change directions, it disintegrated into ash and went with the flow.

A deep guttural voice rang out next to Elias, "Heh. Hehe. Hehehaha. Little Elias is playing judge once again?"

Elias didn't respond.

The being floated behind him on dark, tattered wings, its skeletal frame draped in shadowy tendrils with each of its fingers adorned with shiny rings. Its hollow eyes glowed with a malevolent light, and a twisted grin of schadenfreude spread across its gaunt face. The creature's presence exuded an aura of dread, its long, clawed fingers curling in anticipation.

Seraph—angels of light brought life. So, it only made sense for him, a harbinger of death, to bind himself to their counterpart—a Shinigami.

Not wasting time on words, Elias stormed out the door to the terrace and strode around to the side that overlooked the Westerleigh borough—the district exclusive to nobles, chock full to the brim with gaudy mansions and unnecessary gardens.

Recalling the location of the bastard's residence, he took a deep breath.

"It's time…" he muttered.

CLICK

The gigantic minute hand on clock tower's face settled down on thirty, and Elias reached into his jacket.

GRRRrrrrr, a low growl echoed out, and his hand trembled as he pulled out a half-shattered mask and stared at it intently for a few seconds before forcing it onto his face.

Like a bony maw constricting around its prey, the Creeping Visitor, a perceptual artifact borne of terror and darkness, gripped at his skull. Its skeletal design covered the upper left side of Elias's face, where the bone white material clung like the remains of a shattered skull.

The right side was broken, jagged edges framing a single hollow eye socket that emitted a ghastly green glow. Below, a wide, gaping jaw grinned wickedly, teeth sharp and menacing, frozen in a perpetual grin.

The air around him grew colder than before, carving out a pocket of green haze in the dark sphere visible only to him.

"Feed me," the mask demanded, and Elias did his best not to let the thought overpower his mind. This was the cost of using the Creeping Visitor. One of the spied beings must die, or there would be untold repercussions. He didn't know exactly what, but Walter's stern face when explaining its usage the first time was more than enough for him to not test his luck.

His vision of the city from his right eye became ghastly and spectral as it suddenly shot towards the skies of Westerleigh borough, closing in like some hawk.

Suddenly, his body shook, and his vision settled down onto some room. It was as if he was looking into the room through the peephole of its door.

There was no one in the room.

Elias turned his pupil over in a different direction, and his sight jerked to follow it—now displaying another room.

Maids and servants cleaned the lavishly decorated hall, and given that Morwin hadn't interrupted him, these guys were innocent enough not to warrant his wrath.

He shuffled from one door to the next, and then to another, until...

"Hehe Hehhah Hhaha. Look at the evil oozing out of that one…" wheezed Morwin.

Elias's sight revealed a gaudy room with its curtains closed, barely lit by purple lamps. A couple slept snugly on a bed fit for kings, but to Elias, it looked like a pile of corpses propped them up.

He clenched his fist, raised it, and…

Knock, Knock

The couple turned in their sheets.

Knock, Knock

The man—Simon, pulled a pillow over his head and frowned, his eyes still closed.

Knock, Knock

Simon raised his hand and shouted, "Carlos! What's gotten into you? I told you not to disturb us. We had a late night."

Elias continued without a care, his eyes only growing fierce, Knock Knock

Even the woman stirred, "Honey, could you please go and check? It must be something important."

The man stilled for a couple of seconds before sitting upright and stumbling his way to the door while rubbing his eyes.

"Carlos, is that you? What is it?"

Elias's eyes were glued to Simon's hand, who was about to rotate the knob and open the door. That's all the Creeping Visitor needed. That's all he needed.

Do it, he dared.

"Carlos…?"

To his disappointment, Simon stopped at the last moment and suddenly became alert, his eyes growing wide, "Carlos? Carlos. Carlos, this isn't funny!"

Elias maintained his pace, Knock, Knock.

Simon turned back towards his wife, blood draining from his face as he exclaimed, "Isa, this…this can't be. This can't be!"

The woman named Isa sat up in the bed and pulled the sheets up to her mouth. Her body trembled, and she pushed herself back uneasily as she mumbled, "It's…it's the grim reaper! It's come for you. For us!"

Simon's knees began shaking, and his balance faltered. He grabbed onto the knob and somehow managed to not fall. Hyperventilating, he rested one hand on his chest and somehow found the courage to look into the peephole.