Chapter 240: Evil’s Judgment
The ground of Pan-El, which seemed to have transformed into a sea of black vortexes.
A handsome man with long black hair, watching from atop a tall bell tower, quietly murmured.
“Until now, it was merely a prelude.”
Under the eerie moonlight of the triple moons, the face smiling with anticipation was terribly beautiful.
“It’s time to send the failure next to you to the 118th iteration, Aillet Rodelain.”
✠[
Caught in the Dungeon Sink, I was separated from Tesillid.
However, I was certain that he and my knightly comrades were somewhere not far away.
Because the clearing where I landed was a kind of ‘waiting area’ for criminals before their trial.
“Wh-where is this… hiccup.”
“Gasp, gasp, gasp…”
“M-mom… Mom…”
The human presences, hitherto suppressed by a suffocating pressure, slowly began to swell.
A mere human could not remain composed in the presence of a Demon King.
Gasping sounds echoed from everywhere, and a foul odor mixed in the air, as if someone had lost control of their bladder.
The strange thing was that the coughing sounds, which should have been present, were not heard.
‘A disease causing necrosis of the respiratory organs due to Dungeon Drain should have spread. What happened?’
This question was quickly answered.
Thanks to the demon approaching Inferinos to report.
“Your enlightened Majesty, Demon King Inferinos.”
The owner of the voice wore a plaster-white mask, so their face was not visible.
However, the sky-blue hair and sharp voice felt somewhat familiar.
“The selection process is complete. All the sickly humans who couldn’t even receive labor re-education have been thrown into the ‘Pit of Gu (蠱毒).’”
Pit of Gu?
[The Heavens’ Secret Overseer says this information is not in the original work.]
[The Eye that Oversees All Chaos explains that ‘Gu’ (蠱毒) is a type of wicked sorcery.]
First, I immediately intuited from the nuance of ‘thrown into a pit.’
This must be why fewer than a thousand citizens of the theocracy were dragged into the Dungeon Sink this time.
‘Originally, there would have been tens of thousands.’
It was then that I clenched my fist until the knuckles on the back of my hand turned white.
“Well done, Marquis Levant.”
Inferinos commended the white-masked demon in a cold, indifferent tone.
It was merely a trivial remark, but his voice was filled with authority and majesty.
The air throughout the underworld, carrying his voice, seemed to tremble with awe for the Demon King.
“Then I suppose I should greet them.”
Marquis Levant turned toward the criminal waiting area where I was.
Red light shone from within the two eye sockets of the mask.
“Welcome to the judicial institution of the Demon Realm, you lowly humans.”
Sounds of hiccups, dry swallows, and gasps were heard simultaneously.
The explanation continued.
“From now on, you humans will stand before the judgment seat as criminals. And according to your sins, you will be sentenced to one of two punishments: forced labor, or death.”
Marquis Levant extended his left arm when speaking of forced labor, and his right arm when speaking of death.
Her hand pointed to a precipice existing between the courtroom and the criminal waiting area.
The criminal waiting area and the judgment seat were separated by a great distance, as if a chasm lay between them.
The single path across the precipice connecting them not only served as a bridge but also perfectly divided the chasm into two.
In essence, two gigantic pits were dug with the path in the middle.
From the bottom of the left pit came the ceaseless sounds of pickaxes and whips, while from the bottom of the right pit, instead of sound, a dense smell of blood wafted up.
It was certain that neither was a place for the living to set foot.
The citizens of the theocracy trembled, succumbing to fear and despair.
“Wh-why is this happening… What did I do wrong…”
“Oh God… Strict Order and Goodness… Please save us…!”
“N-no. We’ve been abandoned! By God, and by the Church…!”
The murmuring began to carry resentment.
In fact, all the people dragged here were those who had been outside the Pontifical Palace.
While the citizens who had barely entered within the Holy Ground Construction rejoiced at being chosen by God, the people here had to endure the calamities of the Dungeon Drain and Dungeon Burst with their entire bodies.
Without receiving any protection from the Pontifical Palace.
[The Voice-Spirit that Constructs the World informs that the Pontifical Palace abandoned 30% of the city’s population.]
My grandfather and Marquise Lekandro barely managed to save people who might have otherwise been annihilated.
However, before they could even feel gratitude for the hero’s salvation and the joy of survival, they were ironically caught in a Dungeon Sink and dragged into the Demon King’s Domain.
Two consecutive disasters they faced.
These were things they wouldn’t have had to experience if they had all entered within the Holy Ground Construction area.
They would never forget the moment the Pontifical Palace’s gates closed before their eyes, abandoning them.
“Duke Hispenril and Marquise Lekandro both entered the Pontifical Palace earlier…”
“Even they abandoned us… This time, no one will save us…”
“We’ll die. Everyone will die. Waaaaah…”
The wailing of the thousand remaining survivors deafened my ears.
These were sounds that could plunge one into deep despair just by listening.
[The Voice-Spirit that Constructs the World urges you to prioritize your safety.]
[The Scathing Critic of Balance says you are not in a position to act rashly right now.]
I immediately understood what the gods were worried about. Fortunately, I wasn’t that hot-blooded.
I quietly reached into my Inventory. I took out a robe, put it on, and pulled the hood down deep.
The presence of the Holy Saint would be a source of hope for the people, but unfortunately, even I couldn’t guarantee my survival here.
‘If I survive this, I should buy a luxury wristwatch from the VIP Point Shop first.’
A regression artifact that allows even a Possessor’s life to have a second iteration.
I want to buy it right away, but it’s impossible to move to the VIP Point Shop inside a dungeon.
[The Voice-Spirit that Constructs the World retorts that regression is Tesillid Argent’s genre.]
[The Voice-Spirit that Constructs the World says your genre doesn’t need such ‘suffering’ keywords.]
‘I’ll try.’
I responded as if it were nothing, but inwardly, I wasn’t calm.
Honestly, the back of my neck was soaked with cold sweat right now.
I thought I’d encounter a Demon King at least a few years later. But to think destruction would accelerate this much.
‘Reed, you truly planned this.’
I felt my fingertips grow cold.
<Aillet.>
Agnes stirred my thoughts. A call warning that something was about to begin.
As always, Agnes’s premonition was accurate.
Marquis Levant raised one hand high and shouted resonantly.
“Court is now in session!”
[
“Criminals, one by one, walk before Lord Inferinos!”
Demons wielding whips appeared from somewhere and urged the people on.
The terrified citizens of the theocracy lined up in order as the demons desired.
I too joined their ranks.
No one wanted to be at the front, but that was decided regardless of people’s will.
[
[
Clank!
Both my wrists were restrained by handcuffs, then connected by a long chain to the people in front and behind me. And a number appeared on the back of my left hand, like a brand.
As for the trial order, I received number 362.
“Don’t dawdle, walk!”
Thud, thud…
“Sob, sob…”
“Gasp, gasp…”
The citizens of the theocracy began walking in a single file along the precipice path connecting the waiting area to the courtroom.
Muffled wailing echoed through the underworld.
But even that crying soon froze into shock.
“Gasp…”
“Hic. Hiccup.”
The faces of the people who looked down at the precipice turned pale.
It was because they had directly witnessed the hells they had only vaguely encountered through sound and smell earlier.
I also glanced down.
‘Just like the original.’
In the left pit, called the ‘Labor Camp,’ humans were mixed together, swinging pickaxes.
What they were mining was Demonic Bloodstone, which emitted a wicked red light.
The bodies of the laborers were not normal. It wasn’t just that they were damaged by hard labor.
The demonic energy filling the pit slowly demonizes human bodies.
The laborers were half-skeletal, with their arm and leg bones exposed.
At that point, their bodies could no longer be considered human.
They would only work, without eating, sleeping, or resting.
Meanwhile, the appearance of the right pit, called the ‘Execution Ground,’ was no less bizarre.
<…What a dreadful place.>
On top of the pure white bone piles, axes, hammers, crosses, stakes, cartwheels, and cannons, whose purposes I dared not know, lay scattered everywhere.
And above them, deep crimson Deadly Blooms bloomed brightly, covering the area. Sticky streams of blood slowly flowed in various places nearby.
Despite so many flowers, the stench of decay and blood assailed my nose instead of a floral scent.
It was when I had crossed about half of the precipice path. The procession of livestock being led to the slaughterhouse stopped.
It meant the person at the very front had reached the judgment seat.
The unlucky first in line was an old man with a bent back and sparse white hair.
Even from his distant back, I could feel that he was utterly terrified.
The old man’s fate would soon be the fate of others.
Everyone’s attention was drawn to the outcome of the old man’s trial.
I also amplified my hearing with Aura, listening to what was happening at the judgment seat.
Marquis Levant spoke.
“Criminal, Ras Melbourne.”
“…”
“No answer?”
The Demon King on the high platform opened his mouth as if he had been waiting.
“Guilty. 100 years of forced labor.”
“Gasp… W-wait…!”
No time for objection was given. The old man was immediately dragged away by the demons.
“I-is it over?”
“That’s how the trial ends…?”
The citizens of the theocracy watching were shocked by the instant determination of one person’s fate.
There was still more to be horrified by.
Privilege for the Possessor