Mist blanketed the outer disciples' courtyard like a veil of mourning. Dew hung on the narrow bamboo slats of Lucien's quarters, glistening like tears waiting to fall. Morning had not yet fully broken, and the world remained silent—too silent.
Lucien moved like a phantom, robes dark and unadorned, footsteps inaudible even on the creaking wooden planks. He stood at the edge of the training grounds, eyes half-lidded, breathing slow. Above his open palm, the System Interface hovered—a constellation of data glowing with muted malevolence.
[Target: Elder Wren – Karma Surge: -580]
[Target: Instructor Bail – Sin Confirmation: Intent to Murder via Poison Pills]
Time Remaining: 30 Hours 12 Minutes
His eyes, golden and distant, flared briefly. The karma threads linking him to his marked targets glowed like veins of shadowed lightning. Each thread pulsed with the weight of new sins. Desperation had sharpened their cruelty.
"The longer they live," Lucien murmured, voice barely audible, "the more they sin."
The first day of his hidden trial had passed in quiet condemnation. The next would demand blood.
He pulled his cloak tighter around his form, disappearing once more into the fog.
Judgment would walk before dawn.
The Promotion Hall sat quiet, nestled between silverleaf trees and carved stone pillars. Within its inner sanctum, Elder Wren hunched over a lacquered desk, illuminated only by flickering lanternlight. The room smelled of musty scrolls and stale incense.
He dipped his brush in crimson ink, chuckling to himself as he marked a falsified score.
"That brat could barely channel Qi, but his father's spirit stones speak louder than talent," he murmured.
A gust stirred the flames.
He looked up sharply. "Who's there?"
Silence answered.
He returned to his work, nervous but too arrogant to stop.
From above, Lucien descended silently, his body weightless as wind.
Elder Wren barely turned before a voice sliced through the stillness.
"Who's there? I'm a respected elder—"
"Respected," Lucien said, stepping into the lamplight, "by the desperate. The blind. Not by Heaven."
Wren rose shakily, spiritual energy flickering around him. "You dare—?!"
A blade shimmered in Lucien's hand—not steel, but a weapon formed from spectral karma. Threads of black and violet wrapped around its translucent edge. Forged from the sins of others, it pulsed with righteous hunger.
He lunged forward.
Wren raised a barrier, but the blade passed through it like mist. A single strike, straight through the heart.
The elder gasped, eyes wide. His hands clawed at nothing as his body began to wither, flesh folding in on itself. The System Sigil—an ouroboros with a burning eye—flared on his chest before fading into ash.
[Execution Complete: Elder Wren]
+300 EP
+2 Karma Fragments
System Integrity: Reinforced
Lucien knelt beside the desk, brushing his fingers across the promotion scrolls. All names. All lies. He set them ablaze with a thought and left as quietly as he came.
The night did not protest.
Beneath the radiant lotus greenhouse, where medicinal herbs grew thick and pungent, the storage shed stank of mold and secrecy. Lanternlight flickered weakly against jars of crushed spirit roots and drying blood mushrooms.
Inside, Instructor Bail spoke in hushed tones to a cloaked figure. His voice was laced with greed.
"These will numb the body and cloud the meridians. Give them to your contact—ten silver talismans per vial."
The cloaked buyer handed over a pouch jingling with demon jade.
Lucien stood in the doorway.
The figure turned, cursed, and vanished into smoke.
Bail spun. "Who—You?! You're just a worthless outer disciple! You dare spy on me?!"
Lucien stepped forward, gaze cold as death. "You poison your own. The temple should've buried you years ago."
"You think the elders will believe you? I'll have you executed—"
"No," Lucien said. "You won't."
He raised a hand.
[Skill Unlocked: Divine Shackles]
Effect: Prevents movement of condemned target. Chains forged from executioner's will.
Cooldown: 12 hours
Golden chains erupted from the floor, winding around Bail's arms, legs, and throat. The elder screamed, his Qi flaring—only for the shackles to drink it whole.
Lucien walked forward, each step deliberate. He placed two fingers on Bail's chest.
With a final whisper—"May your rot return to you"—he drove his spectral blade through Bail's dantian, shattering the core of his cultivation.
Bail's body convulsed. A scream froze in his throat. His karma erupted into black ash, spiraling upward like smoke before a funeral pyre.
The shattered pills leaked onto the floor, hissing as they corroded stone. Lucien knelt and examined one.
A formula. Tainted qiroot. Demon bile. A method of slow, undetectable decay.
[Execution Complete: Instructor Bail]
+250 EP
+1 Karma Fragment
System Store Unlocked: Tier 2 Upgrades Available
He turned and walked into the night.
Another sin answered.
Lucien's quarters pulsed with soft candlelight, flickering in rhythm with the System's heartbeat.
The interface floated before him, vibrant with new options:
[Tier 2 Store Unlocked]
Available EP: 650
Karma Fragments: 4
Three skills stood out, glowing with promise.
Verdict Chains (Passive) – Reduces karma concealment of nearby enemies.
Execution Echo (Passive) – Increases fear perception radius.
Karma Harvest (Active) – Consume karma fragments to temporarily boost cultivation.
Lucien tapped the first two, locking them in. Golden symbols etched themselves into his spiritual core. He felt their effects instantly—his senses expanded, karma threads burned brighter, whispers of guilt echoed louder.
The System pulsed again.
[System Warning: Unusual Karma Activity Detected in Sect Grounds]
[Paranoia Index: Rising]
Sect Alertness: Medium
He leaned back against the tatami wall, eyes closed.
"They're beginning to see the cracks."
And cracks always led to collapse.
High above the outer court, on the marble observatory balcony, Rein Aldric studied two scrolls bearing crimson seals.
One read: Elder Wren — Spiritual Heart Failure.
The other: Instructor Bail — Death via Meridian Collapse.
"Two respected figures," he murmured. "Gone in one night."
He didn't believe in coincidences.
Rein's eyes narrowed. He recalled his encounter with Lucien—how the man spoke like stone breaking in winter.
"You move like a shadow, Graves," Rein whispered. "But even shadows leave traces beneath moonlight."
He had begun asking questions. Discreetly. Calculated.
Several disciples had noted Lucien's strange behavior—wandering too often, meditating in abandoned corners, always watching. But no one had seen him cultivate. No one felt his Qi rise or fall.
Which meant one of two things.
Either Lucien had achieved a divine level of suppression.
Or he was operating outside cultivation entirely.
"Karmic manipulation," Rein muttered. "A forbidden art. A dangerous one."
He folded the scrolls and turned to the dawn.
"If he truly walks the line of justice… then I will meet him there. Blade to blade."
The outer court's council hall smelled of sandalwood and tension. Elders gathered around a small tea table, faces grim. The air carried a weight that no incense could cleanse.
Elder Taran sat with his arms crossed, jaw tight. "This makes three unexplained deaths in a fortnight. All internal."
"They were all... aging," another elder offered, uncertain.
"Dying of fright with their eyes frozen open?" Taran snapped. "Be serious."
A lean man from the Lotus Sanctum adjusted his jade circlet. "It may be time to enact a sect-wide Purification Trial. Karma scans. Disciplinary reflections. Internal audits."
One of the elders scoffed. "We already purified the weak."
Another—an old woman with trembling hands—whispered, "What if the executioner is purifying us?"
Silence fell.
Outside, the wind stirred the prayer flags like warning bells.
Midnight. Clouds veiled the moon, and the world sat still—like a beast holding its breath.
Lucien knelt before his altar again, the room dim save for two soft-glowing prayer stones. One etched with a "W," the other with a "B."
Not prayers. Not forgiveness. But remembrance.
[Trial Progress: 2 of 3 Targets Executed]
Time Remaining: 30 Hours
EP: 650
Karma Fragments: 4
Skill Tree (Tier 2): 2 Unlocks
Verdict Slot: 1 (Locked)
Only one mark remained now.
Disciple Venn.
The UI marked him in crimson. His karma surged daily—more threats, more coercion. More rot.
Lucien traced the symbol of execution in the air, burning it into the shadows above his altar.
"One more," he whispered. "Then the temple breathes a little cleaner."
The mist outside rippled unnaturally.
At the far edge of the sect, near the lotus ponds, koi scattered as if fleeing death itself.
And from atop the inner wall, Rein Aldric watched the night with narrowed eyes.
A storm was coming.
One man bore the blade.
Another, the frost.
Soon, they would meet beneath the lotus moon.