The Republic's High Court was an edifice of marble and myth.
It stood in the heart of Celestia Prime, surrounded by silver spires and patrolling sentries, their polished armor glinting under the eternal glow of artificial daylight. No common citizen ever stepped foot past its front gate. Only the elite entered here—judges, heroes, and the architects of quiet genocide.
Elior Caelum stood at the threshold, cloaked in shadow, gaze sharp as a blade.
> [Objective: Eliminate Velan Kreed – High Judge of the Celestian Court]
Known Alias: The Butcher of Sector Twelve
Crimes: Unauthorized Order 17 Activations, Human Subject Trials, Cover-Ups of Heroic Failures
Status: Protected by Aegis-Class Security
The man wasn't just powerful—he was untouchable.
No one in their right mind would attempt this.
Which suited Elior perfectly.
He activated [Phase Veil], becoming a ripple in space, slipping past the first layer of guards with surgical precision. The Villain System adapted quickly now, learning the layout of the compound from intercepted data on Asher's drive. Motion-sensitive wards? Countered. Divine sigils? Reversed. Live mana-scans? Misdirected.
He was a ghost in the belly of the machine.
And the heart of that machine—the High Court Council Chamber—was buried twelve floors underground.
As he descended through maintenance shafts and ventways, Elior passed rooms lined with gilded marble and crystal-touched steel. Every inch screamed opulence. Wealth. Power. But beneath it all, he felt the fear—a buried current humming through the walls.
This place was more than a court.
It was a throne of obedience.
And at its center sat Velan Kreed.
Velan Kreed was an old man who had forgotten what age meant. Magic and money had stretched his life past its due, turning him into a porcelain figure of robes, rings, and dead eyes. He sat upon a throne of silver feathers, presiding over a chamber where fate was signed, sealed, and discarded.
Tonight, there were no trials.
Just one judge.
One executioner.
Elior waited in the upper balconies, watching the man sip wine, alone but guarded by six sentinels clad in golden Aegis armor. Automatons—lifeless and merciless, immune to illusion, capable of detecting mana signatures across dimensions.
A frontal assault would fail.
So Elior smiled.
And cheated.
> [Skill Used: Blood Sigil – Offer a memory to veil yourself from all divine perception for 120 seconds.]
He whispered Liana's name and felt the pain tear through him like molten iron.
Two minutes.
That's all he had.
He dropped from the rafters like a shadow falling from heaven.
The first automaton turned—too late.
Elior's hand ignited with [Wrath Sigil], paralyzing the construct in mid-swing. His dagger, enchanted with shadowflame, tore through the arc-core embedded in its chest.
The rest activated in sync—but Elior didn't fight fair.
> [Ability Chain: Black Flame Bloom + Inversion Field + Phantom Decoy]
He split into five copies.
They attacked simultaneously, distracting the guardians long enough for Elior to slip past them, his real self sprinting toward Kreed.
The judge was already activating a glyph from his throne, calling for backup.
"Too late," Elior said, vaulting over the dais.
Kreed rose, his voice trembling with controlled wrath. "You dare strike me? Do you have any idea who I am?"
Elior's response was a knife.
He drove it through Kreed's palm, pinning his hand to the throne.
The judge howled.
"Velan Kreed," Elior whispered, pressing his forehead to the man's. "You ordered the erasure of twelve cities in the name of 'containment.' You signed off on Revenant. You made my sister a number on a test sheet."
The man spat in his face.
So Elior burned him alive.
> [Target Eliminated: 3/100]
New Skill Gained: Tribunal's Echo – Project illusions of past sins into the minds of enemies.
Faction Alert: Rogue Heirs have marked you as an Ascended Threat.]
Global News Alert: "High Judge Assassinated – Hero Authority Declares Martial Protocol in Celestia Prime"
He didn't run.
He walked out.
The surviving automata fell silent as his new aura rippled across the chamber. The System fed on justice denied, and with each death, Elior's presence grew more oppressive—more mythical. The shadows seemed to follow him now, whispering names.
Enemies.
Targets.
Ghosts of a future only he could see.
Back at his hideout, he found the first message.
A coded signal pulsing through stolen frequencies.
> To: Shadow Sovereign
From: Rogue Heirs – Cell 47
Message: "You're not the only one hunting gods. Let's talk."
He sat in silence for a moment.
Another group.
Another thread in this unraveling world.
He opened the response tab.
And began to type.