I walked down the hall.
The air was thick with the scent of herbs and something faintly metallic—blood, or maybe just the remnants of healing spells. Each step on the polished stone floor echoed sharply.
I saw an old man lying on a bed.
"He's been in a deep coma since the war,"
"He was a true warrior." She said.
"Really? I've never... seen that man in my entire life."
"Oh well," she sighed, the sound brushing against my ears like a gentle wind through dried leaves.
"I've never asked your name, have I?" I said, my voice echoed in the quiet room.
"You can call me Astrid," she replied.
I felt…
something wrong in that room.
It's nothing. Maybe the paralysis is just creeping into my mind.
I rubbed my eyes and focused on Astrid.
As she extended her hands over the old man.
I sat, waiting for her to leave. The subtle creak of the bed, the faint rattle of glass vials on a nearby shelf, even the whisper of her robes sliding across the floor—all became exaggerated in the silence.
Wait—does this classify as a murder…?
No—it shouldn't.
I guess I'm too late for that. I've already decided what to do..
The soft rustle of Astrid's robes shifted, then faded.
Footsteps.
Slow at first.
Then quieter.
Until—
Silence.
I waited. Counted a few breaths.
Just to be sure.
Then I stood.
The floor felt colder than before.
He was still there.
Unmoving.
Peaceful.
Like nothing in this world could touch him anymore.
My fingers twitched.
I stepped closer to the bed.
"…Sorry," I whispered.
I wasn't sure why I said it.
Then—
I reached out.
And touched his forehead.
The moment my skin made contact—
The world tore away.
Once again, I teleported to the same eerie place.
The ground beneath my feet pulsed with energy, slow and sick, like a living heart buried under stone.
I looked in front of me.
"A gray… dead tree…?"
Its branches were twisted, brittle, and frozen mid-death.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the fragment.
My left hand was still paralyzed.
Even here, even like this—I had to finish the judgment.
I struck the tree.
Nothing happened.
I struck it again.
Still nothing.
Again.
Again.
My breathing grew heavier. My teeth clenched.
And then—
The tree shattered.
Not split.
Not cracked.
It disintegrated into dust.
Where it had stood, an old man's body lay on the ground.
Unmoving.
Waiting.
I took a slow, shaking breath.
And then—
I touched his forehead.
The moment my fingers made contact, something was wrong.
Deeply wrong.
My stomach lurched.
My vision warped.
I fell to my knees.
It felt like my mind was tearing something out of itself.
Like information was being ripped away—something it had hidden, something it should never have seen.
My throat burned.
My head rang.
Then the memories came.
Voices I didn't recognize but somehow knew.
"You—you sick bastard…!" I gasped, my voice breaking.
My hands were shaking. My chest felt too tight to breathe.
"HELL… HELL… HELL!"
I screamed it into the empty space.
I repeated my answer before the system even gave me a choice.
The system listened.
And acted.
The old man's body ignited.
Not dissolving into an orb.
Not fading.
Burning.
I could still
Hear their screams.
Then—
I woke up.
I tried to stand, but my legs gave out.
The window frame slammed into the back of my head.
A small box fell to the floor.
"AGH!"
I gasped, breathing hard.
"H-holy… shit…"
"What is wrong with me…" My voice cracked.
"Hey!"
Astrid's voice came from the hall. She rushed in and dropped to her knees beside me, holding my head firmly.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"What the hell happened here?"
"I… I don't know," I lied. "I feel dizzy…"
"Well, you did take some slashing."
"Mhm."
She finished the last of the treatment, careful and practiced.
"Okay. You're all healed up. Does it hurt?"
"No. Not really."
"Alright," she said softly. "I'll walk you to your bed."
Second Judgement Completed
Rewards:
Second fragment of the Sword.
Left hand, now mobilized.
New mission:
Judge five candidates.
———-
I sometimes miss the old world.
But it's gone.
Seventeen years.
Seventeen years, and I still haven't moved on.
Sometimes I forget I'm seventeen.
Other times I forget I'm not.
If I add both lives together…
My mind feels older than fifty.
And now the system wants me to judge candidates.
Judge.
Like I'm qualified.
Like I asked for this.
"This is too much…" I whispered.
A sharp crack split the room.
Astrid's palm slammed against the rough wooden table, rattling the glasses nearby.
"Are you even listening to me?!"
I blinked, the low hum of murmurs and clinking mugs from the bar pressing against my ears.
"Sorry. I—" I said rubbing my eyes.
She exhaled sharply.
"Look. I know you're in a bad situation. But I'm trying to help you."
"You were with the old man yesterday, right?" Her voice softened.
I didn't answer.
"He died this morning."
For a moment—
My heart didn't beat.
Somewhere in the bar, a chair scraped across the floor.
A glass trembled on its coaster. Everything felt distant,
muted,
except that single truth.
"I'm not accusing you," she added quickly.
"I'm not trying to frame you... as a killer."
"I understand," I said quietly.
And I did.
That was the worst part.
She studied me for a long second, the torchlight casting shadows across her face.
Then she stood.
"I want you to leave for a while. Go to the city. Learn magic. Lay low."
"You think that's best?" I asked, the words swallowed by the murmur of the bar.
"I do."
She walked toward the door, her boots thumping against the wooden floor, echoing through the space filled with chatter and clinks of tankards.
"I'll handle things here."
She paused.
Then, without turning back—
"I trust you."
A beat.
"So don't do something stupid."