Elias stared back with the eye of the Creeping Visitor.

"AGH!!!!!!!" Simon screamed, recoiling away from the door, flailing his hands around in the air as he pleaded, "I didn't do it! I swear I didn't do it! Please. Please believe me!"

Elias clenched his fist tighter, disgusted by the hypocritical display, and rapped harder, KNOCK KNOCK.

It was fine even if they didn't open the door right away. It would just become a contest of patience and mental strength. Elias had both in spades.

"Please. Whatever they've told you about me, I didn't do it," Simon begged. Scrambling over to the display table, he snatched the latest newspaper and began rambling, "This…this murder. It wasn't me. I…I didn't order it."

KNOCK KNOCK

"This…kidnapping," he pointed at another headline, "It had nothing to do with me, I swear."

KNOCK KNOCK

He repeated this a couple of times before his eyes became bloodshot, the horror of creeping visitor scrambling his mental defenses.

Simon then turned towards the woman in the room, "I…I've never even looked at a woman other than my wife. I swear to the Lady who gave us knowledge from beyond, whatever crime you believe I've committed, it wasn't me."

"Please! Give me a chance. I may not have lived a pure life, but I haven't done anything to warrant such a death. Please Please!!! I am not like others. I donate a third of my whole income to charity and set aside another third of that to help bribe others to pass positive reforms."

"It is my only sin. Please! Please!"

For a second, Elias's wrist hesitated, his eyes wavering.

That's when a macabre face appeared in front of his other eye—the one not seeing through the creeping visitor, and Morwin chuckled, "Our little Elias is having second thoughts again?"

This reminded him of that time when his hesitation had cost an innocent woman her life. Because Elias wasn't decisive enough, he'd let the convict go, and just a day later, the man decapitated and gouged out the eyes of another tenant, all for some manic ritual.

He was to blame for her death. He failed his duty as a judge.

To be a judge is to be impartial, to forgo emotions, and to act upon evidence and facts alone. It is to render just punishment regardless of one's station, all the while dissecting all phenomena in the world to better differentiate between good and evil, innocent and guilty, he recited his shade's core principle, firming his resolve.

The evidence was there. This man who pleaded innocence was nothing but a vile filth that fed the cycle of depravity. And he had the gall to pretend to not know anything about it.

His grip became tighter, and he smashed his fist with all his might on the spectral door in front of him.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

As if someone had smashed a hammer on his head, Simon suddenly fell on the floor—limp. His wife screamed and rushed to his assistance, but the creeping visitor had gained a hold of his faculties.

In a mindless daze, Simon crawled forward. His wife became terrified and attempted to hold him back, but the man's time was over, and his inner self knew it. Death bells tolled in his mind, and he journeyed towards the end himself.

Tap Tap

"Simon, no! Get a hold of yourself! Don't open the door! DON'T DO IT!" she screeched, trying to keep him from moving, but she was too petite to stop him. Elias had nothing against her, so he hadn't pulled her into the effect of Creeping Visitor. Also, he could see it. She was just delaying the inevitable.

He continued his rhythmic knocking as if this heart-wrenching scene was nothing but a drama in theater, while, he just a mere spectator. It wasn't the time to pass judgment yet.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Tap Tap

Two steps. Three. Six. With the tenth finally bringing him to the door. The woman's choked sobs became ever hoarser as she tried to call on their butlers, guards, and what not, but Creeping Visitor blocked it all.

She scratched, punched, and tackled her husband, but nothing stopped him, and he finally reached the door.

Elias's blood grew hotter and his fury from before came gushing in waves, ready to drown this man in mere moments.

Kacha

The green haze in front of Elias morphed and condensed into a spectral portal the size of a fist—allowing his other naked eye to observe Simon's room.

"Hehhe Hhaha ha. So, little Elias, what's the verdict? Should I harvest his life?" asked Morwin with a low whisper, each word layered with mocking laughter.

Yes, the man may be a charitable person and also a loyal lover, but that didn’t even come close to overshadowing his crimes. There was nuance in most situations, but Elias—as a judge who wielded only life and death and not the shades in between, didn't have the luxury of being indecisive.

There were only two realities. Good or Evil. Only two verdicts.

"And this one…" he pointed his finger at Simon across the space and declared, "is guilty."

"Hehee Haha, don't regret your judgment later, little Elias," laughed Morwin as his wings flapped and he dematerialized from the clocktower before manifesting in Simon's room.

.

.

.

Simon suddenly awoke from the endless nightmare, and only the final words echoed in his head, 'This one is guilty.'

"No. No. No. Please, please listen to me! Wait, please! Please!" he shouted with all his strength and backed away from the door at lightning speed.

That's when a…ghost. No, a god. No, the god of death appeared on the door—a black angel of decay and rot. With a grin that sent a shiver down his spine, the angel of death slowly flew towards him.

He waved his hands in denial, "No. Please, no! Isa, Isa, help me! Isa, it's here! The reaper. It's…it's real! Help me, Isa! It's come to take my life."

He slumped on the floor next to his wife and hugged her with all his being, "Please, please, Isa, I…I don't want to go."

Morwin didn't hurry and instead took in the surroundings, going so far as to grab one of the rings from the display rack and wearing it on one of his fingers—expanding his collection.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Elias clenched his fist. He was not a fan of Morwin's tactics, but he held his tongue for some reason, not feeling like rushing this Simon's death..

At that moment, the wife suddenly snapped her head towards the dresser and mumbled something incoherent before forcefully extricating herself from the hug of her treacherous husband.

"Isa…Isa…I didn't do it. I didn't. I didn't…"

Elias didn't understand this turn of events either, but his eyes were beginning to strain, and the sharp whispers had begun to worm their way into his head. The whole combination of visions and artifacts was a big drain on his divine energy.

Ignoring the woman, he narrowed his eyes, crushing any squat of sympathy for the bastard in his mind. As if aware of his feelings, Morwin suddenly stopped laughing and stopped dawdling around.

His stooped, bony spine straightened and he towered twice as high as Razus and extended his hand. A dark scythe of shadow formed in his hand, and a thread appeared above Simon's head, extending beyond infinity.

Elias closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. Morwin matched his pace, and the scythe rose high in the sky, coiling with a strength to snap the very threads of life.

"Your time is up," Elias declared, the finality in his voice echoing like a death knell.

With a swift, merciless swing, the scythe descended, aiming straight for the thread, sealing Simon's fate. It was—

"PLEASE WAIT!" shouted the woman suddenly, blocking her husband, her arms extended to either side. In truth, her physical form was of no matter for Morwin.

Yet, even though her attempt was entirely unable to impede it, for some reason, the shinigami stopped, the smile on its face growing wider.

Elias hadn't asked it to stop.

He was not one to diddle dawdle. He raised his hand high and let it drop back down with a terrifying momentum, and ordered, "End it—"

However, at that moment, he noticed something peculiar in the woman's hand. It was a…letter for…The Reaper?

"Wait!" he shouted, and Morwin, who hadn't even picked up the scythe, just laughed, his bony body rocking back and forth.

Surprised by her plea actually working, the woman first looked back at her terrified husband, who was clutching onto her tightly, and then extended the letter in her hand towards the empty air in front of her.

She couldn't see the reaper, but she knew it was right there.

Holding back a sob, she pleaded, "Please. Please look at this. Someone gave it to me recently. I...I can't remember who, but I just know that you should see it!" and then she added with a mumble, "Oh, gods, why didn't I remember about it until now!?"

Multiple alarms went off in Elias's mind, but Morwin did whatever it wanted. It snatched the paper from her palms with two fingers and strolled back to the door with the paper in hand. It rocked with shallow laughter but still presented the paper in front of the little portal—right in Elias's face.

The unfurled paper had two simple words.

'Greetings, Reaper.'

Yet, the moment Morwin looked at it, a new voice echoed in his mind, "Greetings, Reaper," and an image followed. At some point as high as his own, a man stood with his back to him, his alabaster locks billowing in the wind. A blindfold covered his eyes, but when he turned back, his eyes hidden behind the veil seemed to peer through Elias's very heart.

Elisa's heart grew cold. He was no expert, but even he knew that letting someone else in his mind was a recipe for disaster. With a sharp breath, he decided to cut his losses, "Morwin, get out of there!"

However, in that instant, an eerie reply came from the other side, "Please calm down and listen to me. This is just a pre-recorded illusion. Unfortunately, I can't create illusions that are alive."

This gave Elias a pause, and Morwin just laughed, ignoring his command to retreat. Almost as if it knew that there was no risk in letting this man speak. Holding the terrace's railing, Elias steadied himself and watched this illusion with a frown.

Clap Clap

"I must say, it's commendable that you've instilled a primal fear in the nobility of Elmhurst in such a short time."

But then he suddenly stopped, "Yet, have you really purged the scum of society like you seem to believe?"

Elias involuntarily stepped back. Why did this person know of his convictions? The nobles he'd judged weren't considered scums by the society at all—it's just the deeper evidence that Walter provided which revealed their true face. Then, how did this person know to think it was out of a need for justice?

A soft smile hung on his lips, and the man didn't elaborate. Instead, he said, "What's even more fascinating is that divinations and roundabout visions have little to nothing to say about you." He shook his head, "Let me share some observations I've made regarding this string of murders you've committed."

He waved his hand, and a parchment appeared. "27th of Winterveil, last year, Captain Haytham lost his mind in his own office. 28th of Winterveil, Lord Armatage was found lifeless in his estate. 29th of Winterveil, Magistrate Ulric, in his courtroom…" Elias listened without a word, reminded of the crimes of each of these criminals he'd judged, only to find his resolve further solidified.

"…7th of Luminar, Lady Elara in her chambers, and finally the Merchant Guildmaster Roderic on 8th. Each and every death was reminiscent of an observer losing control. Now, I am sure you'll continue to kill on 9th, 10th, and so on, but hopefully, I will be on your tail before its too long."

Elias narrowed his eyes, So this illusion was conjured after 8th? He'd already judged multiple convicts since then, after all.

"Anyways, I am sure you already know all of this better than me."

Indeed, he did. What was the point of repeating the names of all these criminals like this?

The blindfolded man waved his hands again, and this time, another parchment appeared in his second hand, "However, did you know that each of these deaths was preceded by multiple deaths of those around your targets?"

Elias frowned.

"Well, I have reasons to believe you don't. So, let me explain. You see, before Lord Armitage died at your hands on the 28th, his personal butler asked for a leave the day before, and four days later, his corpse was found washed up by a fisherman down the docks. For Magistrate Ulric, three of his subordinates went missing around that time and have yet to be found…"

Elias furrowed his brows and listened closely, an uneasy feeling growing in his chest. The man listed out one cryptic death after another related to the people he'd judged.

"Now, you see, that alone isn't really a proof of anything. So, we had to disturb the dead and scour their memories. Would you believe what we found?"

The man grimaced, "Nothing."

He shook his head, "Fortunately, in our line of work, no evidence is evidence in and of itself."

"There are three known shade sequences that can perform a memory manipulation of this kind. Well, to not give you free knowledge of other sequences, I will jump straight to the conclusion and tell you that when correlated with the positions and tendencies of the murder targets, I believe this is the work of a Seraphine's Shepherd."

He then slowly paced around the open space, "Now, you see, Shepherds are powerful in their own right, but they surely don't have the means to remotely kill such a varied range of individuals, with some even having their personal troops and armies guarding their residences."

He nodded, "You know what that means? Either it was a coincidence that a Shepherd just happened to be manipulating records and minds around all your targets. Or…"

"There is a connection. One too significant to be ignored."

Elias's breath quickened. This…this couldn't be. He'd done his own rounds of investigations after Walter and hadn't found a single contradiction.

No. This could just be their way of sowing mistrust between me and Walter. There was a purpose behind this whole illusion, and Elias wasn't about to fall for his enemies. Why would he believe the words of this man he didn't even know over Walter and his own eyes? Who was to say that the things this guy mentioned really happened?

Wary, he continued to listen with skepticism.

"Hah, since I don't believe in coincidences, I am of the mind to believe that there's not just a link but rather that these shepherds are working for you. Or…" he looked back, "you're working for them?"

"Anyways, we dug deeper, and what would you know, we found all kinds of weird phenomenon going on with people related to these murders…even the ones who didn't die. Some had become traitorous overnight and leaked private ledgers, while others forgot the last few days of their lives and were found with seals of their masters and objects they shouldn't possess. Accounts and financial transactions made no sense and even worse, letters that senders didn't remember sending were sent."

"You see. To me, that paints a very clear picture. It's the doing of the same shepherds you work for."

Morwin laughed while Elias stared daggers at the blindfolded man.

"But that begs the question. What would a shepherd gain by doing all these silly things? Why manipulate these random records and force servants to perform these illogical tasks?"

Elias's breath hitched in his throat. It was as if someone was tearing down the walls around him one by one. There was a reason they hadn't been caught yet, and that was because of the uniqueness of Creeping Visitor and his disruptive shade sequence.

The lack of public information about his sequence was what allowed him to act as freely as he did.

But this…

"It is clear now…isn't it? They wanted…"