Heavenly Executioner System

Chapter 12: The Karma Hunters

The wind howled through the narrow gorge like a beast that had forgotten its name. Lucien Graves stood at its edge, the jagged peaks of the borderlands silhouetted against a blood-orange dusk. The remnants of broken shrines littered the path before him, cracked tablets whispering forgotten prayers as his boots crunched over frostbitten stone.

He walked alone. He had to.

Every step he took away from the ruins of Dawnsworn Sect was a step into hostile silence. He avoided major roads. Stayed off ley lines. Traveled only when the sun bled or the moon watched.

And yet, he felt it.

Something followed.

Not in footfalls or rustling leaves, but in karma. Threads of it—twisted, stuttering, vile—brushed at the edges of his spiritual senses. It was wrong. Where true karma ran like silk, these strands were coarse, polluted, frayed at the edges like rope left to rot in blood.

System Notification:

Alert: Divine Residue Detected.

Origin: Corrupted Relic.

Approaching Hostile Source: Unknown.

Lucien narrowed his eyes. The old texts had spoken of this—a corruption not born of mere sin, but of the theft of heaven’s authority.

He remembered the passage clearly:

“Beware those who wear heaven’s light with a thief’s hand — they burn truth from the inside out.”

Someone was close. And they reeked of stolen divinity.

---

The trail led him to a high ridge where the trees grew dead and blind. Pines once rich with spirit bark now hung limp, their needles blackened by something older than rot. The air turned thick, clinging like cobwebs to his cloak.

Lucien’s breath stilled.

Mist drifted in, unnatural and heavy.

Then came the voice.

"Lucien Graves."

It echoed without source.

"Wandering Executioner."

From the fog stepped a figure clad in fractured steel and torn crimson robes. A warped guandao rested on his shoulder, its blade etched with cursed symbols that writhed when looked at.

Embedded in the man's chest, where a cultivator's core would be, glowed a blackened relic.

A Judgment Bell. Twisted. Defiled. Once divine.

The man grinned. His aura was wrong. Divine essence laced with void taint. His karma a churning pit of half-remembered virtue and committed sins.

"Your head," he said, "weighs heavier than gold."

Lucien didn't move. He didn’t need to.

System Notification:

Target is protected by Divine Relic Override.

Judgment Delayed. Manual Intervention Required.

"They sent you," Lucien said flatly.

"Call me the first of many," the hunter rasped. "Crimson Pact pays in karma. And you? You shine like a beacon to us sinners. That glow? That's a blood trail."

---

The hunter moved first.

A blur of steel and taint.

The guandao came down like a guillotine wreathed in shadows. Lucien sidestepped, karma threads snapping into place around his body, redirecting the weapon’s spiritual path.

But the bell in the hunter’s chest let out a pulse—not sound, but resonance.

Lucien’s head spun.

System Alert:

Judgment Field Severed. Divine Thread Weakening.

The guandao sliced across his shoulder. Blood spattered the ground.

His first true wound since becoming the Executioner.

Lucien gritted his teeth and fell back, flicking his fingers. Threads of karma lanced out like spears, anchoring the terrain.

He began the invocation.

"O blind heavens, see once more. Let the veil be torn."

The hunter charged.

Lucien completed the phrase:

"Partial Verdict Invocation: Spiritual Bind!"

Chains of spectral light exploded from beneath the ridge, coiling around the hunter’s limbs, slowing him.

Lucien stepped forward, slashing with a blade formed of condensed karmic thread. The cursed guandao met it—but with a flick of his wrist, Lucien diverted the relic's spiritual flow.

The weapon cracked.

The next blow shattered it.

The hunter roared, slamming the bell embedded in his chest. The pulse tried to destabilize Lucien again, but the Executioner was ready.

"System. Unlock: Righteous Binding."

Chains of light—not of spirit, but of divine law—descended from the sky.

They wrapped around the hunter’s form, pinning him to the ridge like a heretic nailed to a verdict.

Lucien spoke with a voice no longer just his:

Karmic Score: -87,434

Divine Override: Broken.

Verdict: Soul Erasure.

A pillar of golden flame shot into the heavens.

When it faded, only ash remained. And the cracked shell of the corrupted relic.

---

Twilight bled through the mist.

Lucien stood alone among the dead trees. The relic fragment pulsed faintly at his feet.

He picked it up.

System Analysis:

Confirmed: Corrupted Relic Fragment.

Sanctioned by the Crimson Pact.

More wielders exist. Estimated count: 12–15.

Risk Level: High.

Bounty Validity: Confirmed.

The System fell silent.

Lucien did not.

He turned and climbed.

---

He found a cave high above the ridge. There, surrounded by the cold, he removed his torn cloak and tended to his wound. The relic’s energy had left a mark—a faint black line beneath the skin, like ink.

He summoned the System's cleansing interface.

Minor Purification Trial Engaged.

Expenditure: 1,500 Karma Points.

The pain was divine.

His body trembled as the System purged him. It left him pale, but stable.

In the dark, he sat.

Not to meditate.

To think.

“They’ve stolen heaven’s tools,” he murmured. “Twisted justice into a weapon.”

He stared at his reflection in a pool of water.

“What does that make me now? The last true judge... or the next traitor?”

The System offered no answer.

Only silence.

---

Far from the borderlands, beyond reach of stars, the Crimson Ledger stirred.

Within a dark temple, a scribe clad in robes of blood-red silk traced a finger along Lucien’s name.

It glowed brighter now.

Alive.

"The first Hunter has fallen," he said.

Twelve shadows watched from the dark.

One stepped forward.

"Then we send the next."

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