Who Can Judge?

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Even though I may walk into the dark valley, I fear no evil; for you are at my side.

-???

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𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬!

In the dim woods that exist in a world of fog and rock, a veiled woman knelt on the ground with one knee, crunching the dry leaves.

𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬!

Her right hand reached out and touched the roots of a tree; one of the many trees that populated 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗹.

It had been some days since she had stayed here, and no matter how many times she tried to look deeper, there seemed to be so many mysteries. So much, that her mind cannot handle it.

"Hmm..." she closed her eyes.

'Peculiar.'

With just a touch, the gray-haired woman cannot tell what was so mysterious about it. Even with her scanning spell, she was able to determine that the only special thing about the tree was that it was infused with mana.

A rarity in the modern world now, but here and in the past, they were incredibly abundant.

And more mysterious.

If she cannot understand it with touch, then she must understand it with sight.

Her eyes opened, and she saw it for what it is.

Eyes that see past lies, and the 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵 that allows one, as far as is humanly possible; to perceive things of almost all of creation.

However, just 'seeing' something is different from 'understanding it.'

A child in kindergarten sees a calculus level problem; the child sees it, yes, but the child does not understand.

Alas, even if one has obtained a 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵, it is not without its disadvantages. Without the 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵 to understand, the 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵 of knowledge, to perceive all under heaven, is muted in its possibilities.

The gray-haired woman is an anomaly.

With her talent in almost all things magic, she understands its theories and concepts. The building blocks of a spell, the foundation, it is all comprehended and understood through her eyes and 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵.

That was how she was able to undo that Apostle named Favian's cloning spell, and how she duplicated it.

'This truly is a strange place,' she confirmed once again. and stood up.

Truly, no matter how long she was here, it is unique and fathomless along with all the places she had been before.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗹 is said to be a place that is filled with the remnants of dreams and memories of reality. To the eyes of a mortal and those who do not understand, it was no different than reality.

The woman decided it was time to leave.

A gust of cold wind breezed through the trees at that moment. It began surrounding the figure inside, seamlessly merging within it.

As sudden as it came, the wind gradually disappeared, dying out.

Along with the figure inside.

...

In another place, a gust of wind appeared, and a woman seamlessly manifested inside it. As the wind died down, she looked at a series of houses that awaited her from a distance.

A lifeless village that does not understand what happiness is. A broken-down village, where its inhabitants slowly step forward step after step with no hope.

'Disgusting. They were just like those bugs-'

The woman felt a sting of pain on her forehead, but it quickly left. She merely shrugged it off and took another step forward.

...

Footsteps stopped as the gray-haired woman halted in front of the village entrance.

Every time she entered the village, she had walked through here many times. Each time she walked through here, she had seen what Abilene had been through.

Yet, every time something awful has happened, the girl also seemed hopeful for the future.

'As I thought, I should've ended it all, so she can be free-'

"Ugh-"

Abruptly, a ringing pain, as loud as a ringing bell, emerged next to her ear. It buzzed loudly in her head, and the gray-haired woman pressed her hand against her forehead.

Just as quickly as it came, however, the pain abated, and so her hand fell away from her forehead.

Her eyes then looked back at the village.

There was something even more off about it than before. The village was as lifeless as usual, but this time it seemed empty.

No, not just empty.

Entirely bleak.

It was so quiet that even the slightest sound of a pin drop could be heard. There were no indications whatsoever that any life existed in the village at all.

All who lived here were simply gone.

The further she went inside, the more the gray-haired woman looked around.

With a simple sweep of her head, she saw no one. There was no one there. The village was empty. More empty than usual.

The woman simply walked further into the village.

...

Still, there was no one to be found. No sound that indicates they're here. The rustling of clothes, the whispers, the footsteps...

It was too quiet.

Too silent.

For a moment, the veiled woman remained still, as motionless as a statue.

Then, abruptly as it came, she simply tapped her staff onto the ground. From the base of her staff, an invisible, soundless shockwave emerged. From the bottom of her staff, it extended across the dirt floor to the outskirts of the village, and within a second, it traveled back to her.

As soon as she received the information, a small headache pulsed in her head. It was nothing much.

The pain was now a little more than an ant's bite.

"..."

The woman merely shook it off and began looking around.

Still, there was no one at all.

She continued walking forward, staff in her left hand.

...

Finally, after a moment of walking, the woman finally came into view of a house ahead of her. The one on whom the girl deemed as 'home.'

Even now, she cannot consider it a home. It was only a pitiful shelter that exists to provide a modicum amount of comfort in her eyes.

As she looked upon it, the back of her head began to tickle. Something compelled her to enter the house.

Looking at the ramshackle house with holes decorating the walls and ceiling, its pillars barely holding the roof up...the gray-haired woman simply walked inside.

...

The moment she walked in, she found the wooden plank on the ground was placed on the side, leaving a hole.

The woman looked into it, and darkness greeted her inside. At the sight, she tilted her head. If she vaguely recalled correctly, this was that girl's "secret treasure" stash.

Where did it go?

It did not take long for her to find the answer, as she began looking to the left. Where the hay was, all jumbled into a surprisingly comforting little pile, she saw one of them.

A humanoid doll that vaguely resembles what a girl is. With buttons as eyes, stitches as mouth, the insides stuffed with hay-one could tell as a few were sticking out of it, and its hair made up of strings, it looked to be the average doll.

To her, it was familiar, albeit vaguely, for it is one of the two dolls that girl named Abilene took out from her secret stash of treasures.

The woman walked to it. With every step creating a 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘬𝘬𝘬 on the rotten wooden floorboards, her eyes happened to catch sight of something that barely stood out amidst the hay.

A piece of paper.

It was as ordinary as an ordinary piece of paper.

Like a needle in a haystack, if it wasn't for her eyes, she would not have been able to discern such an insignificant item.

The feeling of being pulled once again was felt. Her gray eyes drew towards the small piece of paper, it begging for her attention.

So, she simply walked over to it and picked it up.

On it was words seemingly made from black charcoal-she could tell from her eyes. It was barely understandable, but she could read it.

===============================

If 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺 is reading this...then I guess it's fine.

I knew that one day, I might die, but it was for the good of the village.

Plus, if I do die, I might be able to meet my parents up in heaven!

So please, 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺, don't take vengeance on these poor people, for they do not know any better.

All their life, they lived day to day just to live. They do not know what happiness is, for they are trapped in endless torment. For they don't know what exists outside of this cage called life.

Please, 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺, forgive them.

Forgive me.

===============================

A small and simple note, explaining the intentions of a pure-hearted girl.

Utterly stupid.

"...how foolish. To ask me such a thing..."

The gray-haired woman entirely ignored the entire note as she looked at the writing, and closed her eyes.

Then, the woman felt something stirring in her chest.

'Hmm? What is this feeling?' she thought, looking at the palm of her left hand.

It was such a peculiar feeling. Vaguely familiar, vaguely forgotten. It was on the tip of her tongue, and yet she can't explain it? She despises such a feeling. How could such a feeling exist?

The woman pressed her hand against her forehead. She hated this feeling so much. It tingled at the back of her mind, begging her to remember.

It was another chain that tied her down.

She hated it.

She hated it so much.

But...what was this feeling?

'What was it?'

As she tried to ponder with all her might-well, not all her might, but she did try indeed, a butterfly twitched its wings on the back of her head. Then, a lightbulb lit her dark mind, and she had finally figured it out.

"Ah," the gray-haired woman said. "I remember now."

It was the sense of dread.

A foreboding sense; a bad omen that is about to happen. A bad omen that will happen.

But what could make her feel such a thing?

Even then, that didn't stop her from looking around. Side to side, up and down-she looked wherever she could. Nothing special graced her eyes. Nothing told her what the cause of the feeling was.

Nothing told her...nothing.

To think that one day, she would be fueled by a sense of desperation.

The woman hated the feeling even more.

So, she silently held it up to her forehead, covered by a veil. Just as it was about to touch the veil, she closed her eyes.

A brilliant blue light bloomed from the point of contact. After a few seconds, it died down, and the woman opened her eyes once more.

She knew where the girl was.

Afterward, the woman simply tucked the small note into her bag and grabbed the doll as well. As she tucked it into her bag as well, all of a sudden, a gust of wind breezed through the holes into the wall, surrounding her.

As it did so, she vanished with the disappearance of the gust of wind.

...

As the gust of wind died down, she opened her eyes. The world around her, in her sight, expanded. Where it was just the insides of a ramshackle house, she was now at the edge of the forest.

On the hill were the villagers that were missing. The woman's eyes didn't focus on them but instead looked further. Up the hill, right at the very top of the hill.

At the very top of the hill was...

...a lonely body of a girl.

...

"Who-who are you!?"

"A witch? So that cursed devil really was a curse after all!"

The veiled gray-haired woman ignored them all. With a gust of wind, she immediately appeared before the body in almost an instant.

"What the-!"

"It's magic! Black magic! She is a witch-!"

The woman looked down at the corpse.

It was so familiar.

The body was so familiar, it...it...

Her eyes trailed over to her hands. In her bloodied, dirt-caked hands was one of the dolls she had. The woman's eyes trailed over to her head. On the right side of her hair matted with blood and dirt was a red bow.

The same red bow she had in her secret stash of treasures.

"..."

Ah.

She should've seen this coming.

The woman-no, Anna knew it was coming. From the villagers hating the girl's cursed existence, the village children bullying her without the older villagers stopping them, to them muttering curses at her...

Abilene was defenseless, for she was a girl with a thoughtful and kind heart.

Just like that sister of Jonah, Chaya.

However, unlike her, Abilene was older and had experience in seeing the horrors of man, but her heart remained pure. No, not just pure. More firm.

It was so beautiful, like a flower blooming beautifully in the dark.

And like all flowers, they wilt and die.

Alas, she knew this was coming, and yet-

'Why am I in pain?'

"Oh..my head...it hurts..."

The pulsing pain in her head grew larger and larger. The pain grew more and more, and not just in her head.

She put her hand over her chest.

The stirring feeling in her chest grew more and more noticeable. Every breath became quick; every breath became heavy.

She hated the feeling. She despises the feeling.

It hurts.

It hurts.

𝘐𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴.

𝗜𝘁 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘁𝘀.

Anna-no, the gray-haired woman screamed silently.

Then, at that moment, her mind, mere remnants of who she once was, disappeared altogether.

The smallest pieces of the glass that shattered, its remnants, gradually disappeared more and more.

Then, she felt empty.

...

Suddenly, thunder reverberated across the forest. The wind raged like an angry river, its howls roaring in the sky. The trees, flowers, grass-they all shook and danced with ferocity.

The villagers, about a hundred or so, huddled around each other.

As the dark, dim sky began darkening even further, the back of the gray-haired witch also began darkening.

The world trembled, and they saw that strange abnormalities began happening around the foreign woman that is a witch. Black particles of strange winds surrounded her, along with bits of blue here and there.

As this was happening, one of the villagers stood out, a tall man with broad shoulders.

"So-so you were the one who cursed this land, witch? How-how dare you come here?"

"...who gave you the right to judge her?" came the response. It was cold, empty, and especially dead. The villagers did not seem to care.

Or notice.

"Who are you to judge us? You are an outsider. Our own affairs and problems will be resolved by us. For us. By us."

The man who seemed to be the leader simply shook his head as he shrugged.

"Besides, she gave herself willingly. It is her duty to help us in our time of need. The curse must end now, and so we have ended it. So...who are you to judge us?"

"...who am I?"

For a strange reason, although the witch did not turn her back, the man instinctively gulped.

"Well...you are indeed correct. I am not the Lord God Almighty. I am not a Calamity as well, nor am I an angel. For me to have the power to take away your life...it is arrogant."

Murmurs rose from the villagers gathered together. The leader coughed into his hands.

"Then-then you must know what we did was right-"

"𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳."

All of the villager's whisperings and murmurs halted.

Silence owned the world. The mere idea of the slightest of noise was a sin.

The villager's stopped not because they could stop, but because they were forced to stop. Lightning rushed through them; adrenaline filling their bodies. Their backs matted with sweat, their hearts quickening, their breaths gasping for air, their eyes dilating-

A weight in their hearts dropped as they could look at the back of the witch.

"However. Today...here, right now...as of this moment...𝙄 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚."

The veiled, gray-haired witch slowly turned to them, and the coldest breeze passed through them all. The feeling was akin to being suddenly dropped into a pool of ice.

Men and women, old and young...all the witch saw was-

Bugs. Nothing but bugs.

The world around them quaked. It shook, and screamed, and the wind's howls responded. From under the witch's feet, black mud with bits of blue rose from the ground. Then, it raged towards them like a flood.

The villagers began running. Scrambling for their lives, they ran down the hill, towards the haven that is the forest. The man behind them yelled at them.

"Quick! Climb onto one of those trees-"

Just as he said that the flood of mud came up to him...but passed right by him.

"H-huh?"

As it raced past him, it headed for the other villagers, at around the speed of a galloping horse. When it reached the villagers, it simply raced past the villagers. Every single one of them was overtaken by it. Within a few seconds, it reached the front of the mob. Just as it reached the front, it took a sudden turn.

Circling around the group, the mud then began tracing itself back to the witch.

Then, it bloomed.

Growing taller and taller, the strange mud formed a wall, a height as tall as five men.

That was when villagers all realized what had just happened.

They had been caged.

The villagers slowly turned around, their heads facing the witch. The woman in question, surrounded by the black wind, looked more alien. She looked like a demon. A demon with power over them.

"Punishment is given where it's due. Death to those who are unrepentant," the witch simply said.

"Ah...AHHH!!!"

One of the weaker ones fell onto the ground. It was a middle-aged man who fell to the ground, his eyes dead. The village leader next to him tugged his arm.

"Oi, stand up!"

"We-we're dead. We're goners. We're done for. I knew we shouldn't have sacrificed her..."

As the empty man kept whispering over and over, the leader grimly smiled.

"Then die like a man."

"What?"

"Do you not understand? If we die, then we die like men. Do you want to die like an animal? Beg the witch for forgiveness?"

"But...but we killed the girl like an animal-"

"It's too late to ask for forgiveness. We might as well fight for a chance to live."

As the village leader said that, voices behind him yelled-

"That-that's right!"

"Yeah!"

The villagers suddenly riled up and banded together. Voices of support rose up one after another. As they gathered, the witch simply watched them.

"So...you are unrepentant after all," a monotone voice said from under the gray veil.

"Come, brothers and sisters! Fight! Fight!!"

The leader suddenly charged toward her, and the mob of villagers ran after him. They screamed, running towards her. Their life did depend on it, for they are trapped like animals.

It was a futile attempt.

The witch appeared before the man before he could take three more steps.

As quick as a snake lunge, she grabbed the man's throat with her right hand. As she did so, she lifted him up into the air as easy as raising a feather. The leader struggled, his legs dangling in the air, scratching and kicking her arm as her hand shone a black color.

In just a matter of seconds, the man's body became malnourished and drained. Wrinkles were formed, and his brown hair gradually became gray then white. In the end, when the body was just bones with skin, the gray-haired witch dropped the body, and it fell like a marionette with its strings cut.

It never moved ever again.

Life energy is still energy, regardless of its limited capacity for possibilities.

Some of the villagers, brave and courageous, stopped.

However, few others continued to run.

Another person ran at her with a bloodcurdling cry. A young woman who looked scared. Although she was trembling, she forced herself to run at her.

The witch simply swiped her staff. The edge of the axe/spear staff weapon cleanly cut through her head. The person's blood splattered across her arms and dress.

It was just the beginning.

...

One by one, she gave them judgment.

There were many variations. The witch either lit them on fire, drowned them beneath the mud, crushed them with stones one at a time, threw rocks-

Each time she did so, many different noises were heard.

Squelches, gurgling, bloodcurdling screams, whimpers...

The witch heard them all, but it didn't matter, for she did not care.

What she cared about was simply herself.

Each time she did so, each time she ended a life, each time she gave punishment, something began clicking and scratching in her mind. Like sand and glass cracking, something began slowly coming back together.

Slowly, but somehow, her mind began to rebuild itself.

Each glass, shattered, began piecing itself together, like a where one person sticks pieces together to form a picture.

As she did so, she completely ignored something blinking at the edge of her vision.

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Error.

Recalculating...

Race: Human (???) 95% => Human (???) 96%...

97%....

Error.

Warning.

Error.

98%...

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The changes happening in her body went unnoticed by the witch herself.

That was a jest. She did know what was happening. She just did not care.

The veiled, gray-haired woman had better things to do.

"Death to those who are truly cruel."

These villagers screamed and begged. They cursed and pleaded.

Their cries fell on deaf ears as the witch looked at them. The feeling and action were akin to simply squishing bugs.

Wait...if they were bugs that were beneath her...then why is she doing it if she doesn't care? If she shouldn't care.

"Because it's more than that."

'...hmm?'

The gray-haired woman's head jolted up.

"..."

Perhaps it was the wind. Oh, and the cries of people as well. Only the screams of the unworthy and sinful. So, she simply turned her gaze back to them.

"Death...to those who, even if their hearts thought differently, remained stubborn. Death to those who blind their own eyes."

She herself deserves death as well.

...

Time slowly passed as the cries began to die out. After a long while, the black mud wall slowly began falling down.

As it disappeared altogether, what was left was a land of bodies and crimson.

'...death...death to those whose hearts are rotten and black.'

No more screams. No more pleading. No more begging.

It was only the gray-haired woman on that hill who stood. With her staff in her left hand, she gazed upon the bodies of men and women, old and young.

'Death to those who give in to the worst. Death to...those who…'

"Hmm?" the witch touched her forehead.

'Why did I kill them? Ah, that's right. There is no second chance. Punishment has been dealt with those who are unrepentant.'

The veiled gray-haired witch looked at the myriad of corpses that were scattered on the ground. The blood fell from the edges of her dress, her veil, her hands, her hair, her staff...

One by one, they all dripped onto the blood-stained ground.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

𝘛𝘢𝘱.

Like raindrops, they fell onto the dirtied floor. It did not make a difference, for the entire hill was already stained.

Her eyes looked over at the body that lay alone on a hill. With a doll by her side and her cute red bow...the girl looked to be at peace. Not a single stain of dirtied blood or dirt touched her.

Even while the witch was killing everyone, she made sure to leave the body as clean as it is, with not even a single drop of blood touching her.

"AaaaAAAHHH...!"

Someone screamed in the background. A child-no, multiple children, cried and felt pained at the sight of their loved ones. They all cried in anguish, in joint unison.

'Ah, that's right,' the witch thought.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯.