Chapter 32: Mine Is A Judgment
Chris stood at the edge of the broken wall,
Looking over the destruction he had somehow played a part in.
"Huh." A quiet chuckle left him, dry, almost hollow.
Evil is only what the strong fail to justify. If you resist him, you'll be the villain. If you serve him, you'll be the hero. Isn't that what history always teaches?
The thought lingered longer than it should have.
A memory surfaced—
That day we almost died… it wasn't the gods who saved us. It was Adrian. Even if he becomes the devil, I'll still serve him.
His hand tightened around the hilt of his blade.
"I owe my life to him. That is undeniable."
A pause.
"My doubt… has caused me to fail several times."
The wind passed through the ruins, carrying dust and silence.
"If I had reacted faster… if I hadn't paused to think…"
His voice thinned.
"That damned Miguel wouldn't still be alive."
His jaw clenched.
"This much wouldn't have happened."
"Do you really believe that?"
Herla's voice cut through the air.
Chris turned. She leaned against the fractured wall, arms folded, watching him.
"I thought you departed to Martindale," he said.
"I did. Tobey assigned me something." She pushed herself off the wall and walked to his side.
They stood in silence for a moment, overlooking what remained of the city.
"I've come to realize how much you respect him," Chris said.
"He does what must be done." Her tone didn't waver.
"And I don't."
She glanced at him briefly.
"Tobey doesn't hesitate," she said. "You do."
Chris didn't respond.
"You trained us," she continued. "Taught us what it meant to be a knight."
A small pause.
"I admired you, Sir Livingstone."
Chris shifted slightly, but said nothing.
"I remember…" she hesitated, just barely, "thinking I wanted to stand beside you."
That was all.
No embellishment. No softness.
"I wanted to be yours," she added after a moment, quieter now. "Mrs. Livingstone."
Chris exhaled through his nose, eyes still fixed ahead.
"Hmm. That would have been… interesting."
No rejection. No acceptance.
Just distance.
Silence settled again.
"Who is Lord Adrian to you?" Chris asked.
Herla frowned slightly at the shift, but answered.
"My benefactor," she said. "A debt I won't ever finish repaying."
A pause.
"Who is he to you?"
Chris didn't answer immediately.
"A child."
Herla's eyes narrowed.
"One that sees the world as something to play on," he continued.
"Yet hides who he really is beneath it."
"And who is that?" she asked.
Chris didn't look at her.
"A child."
Herla let out a quiet breath, almost amused.
"That's a dangerous opinion."
"Would you stand with me if it came to that?" Chris asked.
A beat.
"Maybe," she said. "I might still like you enough."
Another pause.
"Hillan's death hit you hard," she added.
Chris nodded once.
"He was like a brother. Him and Lewis… they found me when I had nothing."
Herla's grip tightened slightly on her blade.
"Then we're ignoring the real problem."
Chris's gaze sharpened.
"And that is?"
She drew her sword.
"The Crimson Peak."
Steel whispered as Chris unsheathed both blades.
"They're beyond us," she continued. "Beyond all of us."
Chris stepped back, stance lowering.
"Then I'll become strong enough," he said.
His voice was steady now.
"To deliver judgment."
A breath—
Then—
BOOM
Steel collided.
The Presiding Stanchion
Funny enough,
This was only the beginning.
A long path ahead.
You wonder about what comes next—
The world,
The enemies,
The inevitable clash of wills.
But stories do not reveal everything at once.
They show only what is seen.
And in your case—
What is read.