Chapter 2: A Light That Judges

The rhythmic sound of footsteps echoed through the lonely road as Azar strolled along, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. 

His new robe draped over his frame, flowing slightly with every step. 

The night air was crisp, carrying the distant scent of rain.

Ahead, an old wooden sign stood slightly crooked by the roadside, illuminated faintly by the moonlight. The words were faded but still readable: "Vodin Town – 12 miles straight."

Azar stopped, tilting his head. “Twelve miles, huh? That’s… about an hour at a good pace.” He stretched, rolling his shoulders before letting out a relaxed sigh. “Still, this is the perfect time to get some rest. Then in the morning, I can refine my poor, crumbling grimoire. Can’t have it falling apart before I can even use it properly.”

He resumed walking, humming a slow, tuneless melody. Every now and then, he spoke as if someone was beside him.

“Say, do you think I should get some food first? Maybe some stew… Oh, but bread sounds good too. Warm, fresh out of the oven. Ahh, I can already taste it.”

A moment passed before he chuckled softly, nodding as if receiving a response.

“True, true. I should prioritize the grimoire first. But you know me—I like to enjoy the little things. No point in getting stronger if I can’t even treat myself.”

As he continued walking, something changed. The wind stopped.

The clouds, thick and heavy just moments ago, suddenly parted, revealing a vast, star-filled sky. The moon hung high, bathing the road in silver light. It was peaceful. Still.

Azar’s humming slowed as he glanced upward. “Huh. That’s a bit too convenient.”

Then, without warning— A massive pillar of blinding light descended from the heavens, its radiance swallowing the entire road in an instant.

Azar barely had time to react before an enormous fist emerged from within the light, streaking toward him at an unrelenting speed. His eyes widened behind his mask.

“Whoa, wha—?!”

Boom!

The impact struck him square in the chest, sending him hurtling dozens of meters through the air. His body tore through trees and shattered the ground as he tumbled violently before managing to right himself midair.

Dark, writhing vines erupted from the earth, twisting and coiling as they caught him, slowing his momentum before gently setting him down. Azar groaned, patting his chest.

“That was rude,” he muttered, dusting himself off. His hoodie was torn at the front, and a faint burn mark was left on his skin underneath. He sighed. “Ahh, I liked this hoodie…”

The light pillar began to fade, revealing two figures standing at its core.

They radiated an overwhelming presence—an aura so blindingly divine that it made the very air tremble. Their robes were pristine white, inscribed with golden runes that pulsed with ethereal energy. Each movement they made exuded power, as if the heavens themselves had descended into the mortal realm.

Saints.

Azar tilted his head, his tone almost amused. “Well, if it isn’t the church’s finest. I take it you two are here for something important?”

The taller of the two, a man with golden hair and piercing blue eyes, stepped forward. His voice was calm but carried an undeniable weight.

“Azar, the one who wears the Judgment Robe. You are to be taken into custody immediately.”

Azar raised an eyebrow behind his mask. “Oh? No long speech about the evils of my actions? No divine proclamation of justice?” He gestured lazily. “Come on, give me a little something.”

The second saint, a woman with silver hair and a cold gaze, narrowed her eyes. “You stand atop the corpses of thousands. There is nothing to discuss.”

Azar sighed, shaking his head. “You people really don’t know how to have fun.”

Before another word could be spoken, the golden-haired saint disappeared—no, he moved so fast that Azar could barely process it. In the blink of an eye, he was already inches away, his fist coated in holy radiance.

Boom!

Azar barely twisted his body in time as the fist grazed past him, obliterating the ground where he once stood. A crater formed instantly, shockwaves tearing through the surroundings.

Azar clicked his tongue. “Tsk. That’s gonna be hard to dodge all night.”

He thrust his hand forward, and black tendrils surged from his shadow, lashing toward the saint. But before they could reach, the silver-haired saint appeared behind Azar in a blur.

“Divine Severance.”

A thin, glowing blade of light extended from her fingertips, slashing toward Azar’s neck.

Instinct took over.

Dozens of black wings sprouted from his back, each one shifting unnaturally as they warped space itself, distorting the attack’s trajectory. The saint’s blade sliced through empty air, but her reaction was immediate.

“Sacred Judgment.”

The entire area exploded in holy energy, turning the night into day. Azar barely managed to form a protective barrier of darkness, but even then, the sheer force sent him skidding backward.

As the light dimmed, he exhaled.

"Wow. You two really aren’t holding back, huh?"

He dusted himself off before looking to his side, as if speaking to someone unseen.

"You see that? That was almost impressive. Almost."

The saints paused briefly, their eyes scanning the empty air where Azar seemed to be directing his words.

The golden-haired saint narrowed his gaze. "Who are you speaking to?"

Azar chuckled. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

The saints didn’t hesitate. In perfect synchronization, they vanished and reappeared, launching an onslaught of divine strikes. Azar dodged and countered with shadowy spikes, but they shattered against the saints’ radiant auras.

Every attack he threw at them was rendered useless. Every move he made was instantly countered.

He couldn’t land a single scratch.

After another devastating clash, Azar tumbled across the battlefield, coughing slightly. He let out a low chuckle.

"Man… it’s been a while since I’ve been on the receiving end like this." He adjusted his gloves, stretching his arms. "Kinda refreshing, actually."

The silver-haired saint raised her hand. A massive golden spear began to form, glowing like a miniature sun.

"By the authority of the heavens, you will be—"

Before she could finish, a deep voice echoed across the battlefield.

"That’s enough."

A third figure suddenly appeared between them, descending like a phantom. The pressure of his mere presence made the air grow heavy. The saints immediately tensed.

Azar let out a long whistle. "Well, well. If it isn’t the warden himself."

The newcomer, clad in a dark military-style coat, fixed his cold gaze upon Azar.

"Azar. Your time is up."

Azar sighed dramatically. "Yeah, yeah. Guess it’s time to head to my new school, huh?"

The golden-haired saint clenched his jaw. "You’re truly allowing him to live?"

The warden nodded. "Orders are orders."

Azar stretched lazily, grinning beneath his mask.

"Looks like I’m off to Heavenly Pillar Academy."