The Crimson judgement (part 2)

The battlefield was silent, save for the dying gasps of monsters twitching on the blood-soaked ground. Kael stood amidst the carnage, his body smeared in black and crimson gore. His mimic—an ethereal silhouette of his own form—drifted behind him like a dark flame, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. The mimic's distorted echo mirrored every move Kael made, its presence amplifying the fear in those who dared to watch.

The city's outskirts were littered with the corpses of beasts—fangs, claws, wings, and grotesque limbs all torn asunder. Buildings on the outer wall bore scars from earlier attacks, but none of the monsters had made it past Kael. Not a single one.

From the tall towers within the inner city, the corrupt nobles watched through enchanted telescopes and crystal mirrors, their faces pale and twisted in disbelief. They had expected resistance from this mysterious enforcer, but not this. Not the massacre of an entire monster horde by one man.

"This... this isn't normal," one of the lords muttered, gripping his goblet so tightly it cracked. "What even is he?"

"A monster..." another whispered. "No, worse. A divine judgment."

Inside the fortress walls, the wealthy and powerful trembled. Kael's display wasn't just a victory—it was a message. He could take on an entire army by himself. If he ever turned inward, the walls wouldn't save them.

Meanwhile, on the battlefield, Kael exhaled and cracked his neck, eyes cold. The mimic dissolved into his shadow, disappearing without a sound. His white cloak—now stained and tattered—fluttered gently in the breeze.

A soft grunt pulled his attention. A wounded boy, no older than ten, was crawling from under the rubble, blood streaking his face. His frail hand reached toward Kael.

"Help…" the boy gasped.

Kael's steps echoed as he approached. He crouched and gently lifted the child. The boy flinched at first, but Kael's touch was gentle. With one hand glowing faintly with divine energy, he healed the worst of the wounds.

"Go to the central shelter," Kael said, his voice calm and deep. "You'll be safe now."

The boy blinked, confused. "Are… are you one of the heroes?"

Kael didn't answer. He simply nodded and turned away.

The child ran, watching him from time to time—like he was staring at something more than human. Something terrifying, yet protective.

From the rooftop of a ruined outpost, the masked girl observed him with narrowed eyes. Her mind replayed the fight. No hesitation. No mercy. Just divine precision and monstrous efficiency. She wasn't sure if it was holy retribution or primal wrath—but it had saved hundreds of innocents.

Still… it made her skin crawl.

Back at the city, the guards were in chaos. Orders flew through the comms, panic rising. The leaders debated strategies—whether to brand Kael a threat, to appease him, or to simply flee if he approached.

But before any decision could be made, Kael appeared before the city gates. He didn't knock. He didn't speak.

He simply stood.

And waited.

The gate opened slowly. Soldiers lined the walls, weapons drawn, spells charged. But none dared to attack.

One of the generals stepped forward—his armor polished, his chest puffed out, trying to mask his fear.

"You've saved the people today," he said. "The high council thanks you. You're free to enter—"

"I didn't do it for your thanks," Kael interrupted.

The general flinched.

"I did it because it was necessary. The weak deserve protection. But I'm not here to make peace with you."

Kael's gaze bored into the man's soul.

"Soon, I'll be inside your walls—not as a guest, but as judgment."

The general turned pale. "W-What do you mean?"

Kael walked past him without a word. The mimic flickered once more at his side, pulsing with grim anticipation.

From a balcony high above, a cloaked noblewoman watched with shaking hands. "He's getting closer," she whispered. "We have to act now, before it's too late."

In the streets, rumors swirled. The people had seen what Kael did. They whispered of a savior cloaked in blood. Some called him an avenger. Others, a demon. A few dared to say the word…

"Chosen."

But Kael didn't care for what they called him.

He was here to cleanse.

And the city's reckoning had only just begun.

---

Thanks for the reminder! Here's the Author's Note for Chapter 87 that you can add at the end of the chapter:

---