Sammail exhaled deeply and placed the merchant's heart on the floor.
"No," he whispered. "Then I must kill the judge."
He slammed his fist into the Judge's chest.
The moment skin met skin he realized something was wrong. The Judge's chest felt like metal, like iron forged in the heart of the underworld. Pain shot up his arm. A wet crunch sounded deep inside as bone bent, barely clinging to shape.
The Judge chuckled.
"What will you do now?" he asked, voice thick with amusement.
He seized Sammail's hand. Tightened his grip — slow, merciless.
Pain surged through Sammail's arm, clawing into his skull. He couldn't pull away. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.
"What are you exactly?" Sammail yelled.
The Judge's eyes flared blue and black — twin infernos.
"As I said, my lord… a mere judge."
The pressure increased. Bone tore apart. Splintered.
Sammail's anger rose like fire. Rage. Fury. Hatred.
None of it mattered.
No feeling in this world could save him now.
"You said filth like me shouldn't touch you," the Judge whispered, staring directly into Sammail's eyes with a pitiful smile.
The bones in Sammail's arm finally gave way. A sickening crack echoed across the chamber.
The Judge punched once. A simple strike. And Sammail flew — thrown against the floor near the throne.
Sylphia trembled where she stood. She screamed his name, voice sharp with panic.
Sammail tried to move.
Dark chains erupted from the floor, latching around his arms and legs, dragging him down. He collapsed, pinned, chained like a rabid animal. Like a slave.
The Judge walked toward Sylphia, slow and calm, humming a gentle melody.
"Don't run," he said softly. "I'll find you."
Sylphia shook. Her breath stuttered. She couldn't move — only tremble.
His presence was crushing. Ominous. Cruel.
"Run away, you fool!" Sammail shouted.
The Judge's eyes met hers.
He knelt in front of her, lowering himself to offer his hand. His smile was almost kind.
"Take my hand."
"That's an order! Run now!" Sammail roared.
Her legs jolted to life — she could move.
But the Judge whispered, low and calm:
"If you want to end up like the rest of them… then run. But if you want a fair trial — take my hand."
Sylphia froze.
A pawn of heaven. A slave to command. For the first time, she had to choose:
Run and die as a slave,or stay — and face judgment.
She chose neither.
She lunged — claws out — aiming for the Judge's throat.
He caught the attack gently.
His eyes glowed again, blue and black.
The weight of his presence crushed her legs. Knees trembling. Knees failing.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said. "But I am merciful. I am the Judge of Corruption, after all."
He closed his fingers around her hand.
And the room changed.
Walls bled into existence — stone dripping ink-black.Shapes twisted under crimson light.A chamber of murder and torture reshaped itself into a courtroom.
Black pillars. Crimson banners. Rot. Blood. Injustice.
The Judge's throne remained.
Sammail lay on the ground, chains heavier than his body, eyes full of rage.
Sylphia stood apart — pale, shaking.
The slaves and the child stood nearby, silent.
Sylphia stared at the floor — blood, bone, fluids smeared like paint.
Sammail spat blood.
"What the hell is this?"
The Judge leaned back on his throne.
"You slow or something? It's your trial."
Sammail snarled.
"For what crime? Not saving your damned slaves?"
The Judge slammed his fist into the throne.
Silence consumed the Court.
Sammail's voice sealed in his throat — nothing left but breath and blood.
The Judge smiled, slow and sinister.
"For every crime you have ever committed," he said. "As a human — or a fallen."
After his words, the slaves bowed.Even the limbless.Even the shattered.Even the defiled children.
All bent.
All but one.
The child — the one Sammail had pierced with his claws — remained still. Unmoving. Unbowed.
Sylphia did not bow either. She was not slave, nor angel, nor fallen. Only still — emotionless stone, carved by fate.
The Judge struck the throne twice more.
Commanding silence.
"I am the Judge of Chaos. Law of the underworld. Assigned by the former Queen — first human to fall, sin of corruption, first woman born equal to God: Lilith."
One thought crossed Sammail's mind:
Fuck my mother.
Who could blame him? To be judged by his mother's creation — held accountable by her world, her laws, her monster.
Rage rippled through him. Blood flecked the floor beneath his teeth.
The Judge continued:
"The laws of corruption have decided to hold trial over Sammail — last fallen human, son of corruption, son of Lilith."
He chuckled.
"His sins are beyond imagination. Even in a world where fantasy is reality."
Silence.
Sammail's eyes burned. Rage. Humiliation. Hatred.
"I will kill you," he murmured — though no one could hear; his lips were sealed.
The Judge raised his voice:
"The first crime of today is not murder, nor slaughter. It is something deeper — an act that defies the natural order of the underworld."
He pointed at Sammail.
"Killing an overlord of Hell to save an angel sent here to kill us — your own people."
"And then giving her the Grace of Corruption. A gift you stole from Lilith herself."
The Court trembled.
The Judge roared:
"The first crime is betrayal of corruption!"