2025-06-05 19:30:49Morning sunlight spilled over the courtyard of the Radiant Lotus Temple, casting golden streaks across the marble tiles. The air was crisp, tinged with the scent of dew and distant incense.
Lucien Graves stood beneath the outer pavilion, silent and still.
Around him, disciples moved in clusters—training, laughing, arguing, gossiping. It should’ve felt familiar, nostalgic even. But to Lucien, it was all noise.
His eyes glowed faintly with golden light.
Above each disciple’s head, shimmering numbers floated—transparent to all but him.
+35. -10. +5. -40.
Karma. That was what the system called it.
“The weight of one’s actions, tallied by the heavens.”
Lucien’s gaze swept through the crowd, dispassionately reading the scores. Most were harmless. Some were cruel. None were innocent.
His vision sharpened as a commotion drew his attention.
Near the far garden wall, two inner disciples stood cornering a pale, skinny boy—barely sixteen. The boy clutched a pouch to his chest, trembling.
Lucien’s eyes narrowed.
Weaker Disciple: [Karma: +15]
Bully 1: [Karma: -160]
Bully 2: [Karma: -110]
“Come on, runt,” sneered the first bully. “What’s the point of you having spirit stones when you can’t even make a fireball?”
“Yeah,” the second one added, grinning, “think of this as a donation to your betters.”
The younger disciple shook his head. “P-please… I need those to buy pills. I—”
The first bully slapped him hard. The pouch fell to the ground.
Lucien stepped forward, footsteps soft, but his presence somehow louder than a shout. The bullies turned to him, sneering.
“Well, well. Look who crawled out of seclusion,” said Bully 1. “Lucien Graves. The 'Heavenly Star' who fell from grace.”
“Should’ve stayed in bed, traitor,” the second spat.
Lucien’s eyes scanned them calmly, seeing the red glow of negative karma swirling like smoke around their heads.
“Too proud. Too arrogant. But not evil enough to warrant judgment. Not yet.”
He knelt beside the fallen boy and silently offered a Grade 2 Healing Pill from his sleeve.
The disciple blinked. “W-why...?”
Lucien said nothing.
He simply walked away, his cold eyes lingering on the two bullies just long enough to make them sweat.
As he entered the forest beyond the courtyard, the system interface flickered into view.
┌────────────────────────────────────┐
│ Heavenly Executioner System │ ├────────────────────────────────────┤ │ Execution Points (EP): 0 │ │ Karma Scanning: Active │ │ Verdict Slots: 1 Unused │ │ New Skill Available: Soul Cleave │ │ Hidden Trial: Judgment Begins │ └────────────────────────────────────┘Lucien waved his fingers and the skill tree unfurled in cascading golden branches. Most were locked. Their titles teased potential: Judgment Flame, Soul Bind, Verdict Chain, Execution Domain.
But one path gleamed with availability.
Soul Cleave
“Strike the soul directly. Can only be used on targets with highly negative karma. Executes spiritual essence. Leaves no body behind.”
Below that, a warning blinked.
“Repeated use attracts divine attention. Use only against just targets.”
Lucien smirked.
“Good. Then I’ll make sure each one deserves it.”
[Evening – Herb Garden District]
The day melted into twilight.
Shadows lengthened across temple grounds as lanterns lit one by one. Lucien now wore a dark robe with the hood drawn low. He moved silently through the winding paths of the lower temple—toward the herbal compound, where the lowest of the elders resided.
He had followed the man all day, confirming what he already knew.
Elder Thorne. Karma: -790. Glowing crimson. The number pulsed like an open wound.
Publicly, Thorne was courteous. Helpful. Smiling.
Privately, he was filth.
Lucien had seen him slap a female disciple who refused his “guidance.” Heard him threaten an outer student into lying about his cultivation progress. He had eyes everywhere—and connections with demonic cultivators beyond the temple borders.
Lucien crouched on a rooftop and waited.
Soon, Thorne slinked through a side door, checking both directions. His robes were unusually heavy—clearly weighted with spirit stones or pills. He entered a garden house reserved for spiritual herb refinement. A moment later, another figure stepped through the door—a robed man with a crimson token.
Lucien’s eyes narrowed.
Demonic cultivator. Karmic resonance: -520.
They began to speak, hushed but urgent.
“You bring the next batch?”
“Inside the box. Grade 3s. Freshly refined.”
“Good. My cut is thirty percent.”
“You’ll take twenty.”
“I can have your name delivered to the inner court. Shall I?”
The demonic cultivator’s face darkened, but he relented.
“Fine. Twenty-five.”
That was enough.
Lucien stepped off the roof, landing silently in the grass.
“Elder Thorne,” he said flatly. “I wonder how many disciples your lies have killed.”
The elder flinched violently, spinning.
“Who—what are you—”
Lucien’s aura swelled. The air grew heavy.
[Verdict Initiated]
[Execution Permission Granted: Karma -790]
[Soul Cleave: Activated]
A silver blade of light manifested in his hand, humming softly with divine power.
“Lucien—Graves?!” Thorne’s voice cracked. “You’re insane! You dare attack an elder?! The temple will—!”
Lucien moved.
One step. One strike.
The blade passed through Thorne’s chest—not his body, but his soul.
A horrific scream erupted, inaudible to mortal ears but loud in the spiritual plane. Thorne’s eyes rolled back. His body convulsed—and then, in an instant, crumbled to ash.
No trace remained.
The demonic cultivator stumbled back in horror. Lucien’s golden eyes locked onto him.
[Target: Karma -520 – Not Authorized. Multiple Witnesses Present.]
The system pulsed a warning.
“Public execution risks exposure. Verdict slot required.”
Lucien stepped back into the darkness, leaving the demonic cultivator fleeing like a ghost had risen.
System Notification :
[Target Eliminated: Elder Thorne – Karma: -790]
[Execution Points +100] [Verdict Slot Earned +1] [Skill Tree: Partial Unlock] [New Passive Skill: Karmic Intuition – Your instincts now alert you to dangerously low karma nearby.]Lucien exhaled slowly. The night felt… lighter. Birds returned to the trees. The wind, previously still, danced softly through the branches.
Even nature had despised Thorne.
Dawn – The Next Day
Lucien returned to the courtyard.
The two bullies from yesterday froze when they saw him approaching. They couldn’t explain it—but a pressure weighed down on them. Something about him had changed.
His steps were silent. But his gaze?
His gaze judged.
They stepped aside without a word.
Lucien walked past them, indifferent.
He looked up toward the highest peak of the Radiant Lotus Temple, where the grand hall stood like a monument of hypocrisy. There, within, Sect Master Myra and Elder Marius played their games.
Their karma hadn’t yet appeared before him.
But he didn’t need to see it.
He already knew.
He closed his eyes, feeling the growing strength in his soul.
One execution had only whetted the system’s thirst.
“One soul down,” he whispered.
“The rest? Soon.”
He turned, shadows swirling behind him like a cloak of divine wrath.
The sword of judgment had only begun to rise.
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Chapter 16: Gathering Storms
The winds over the borderlands had changed. Once gentle and silent, they now whispered of blood and judgment, of legends born beneath burning skies and names carried by karmic thunder. And among them, none stirred more fear or reverence than Lucien Graves.From the distant ruin of the Dawnsworn Sect to the smoldering ashes of the Burning Orchid, word of the Wandering Executioner’s passage had spread like spiritual wildfire. Mid-tier sects—once complicit in hidden karmic theft—scrambled to purge their leadership. Some issued false proclamations of renewal, others burned scrolls and severed pacts in fear of divine reprisal. But it was too late. Justice had already moved, and its echo was reshaping the realm.In the mountains between the Eastern Lotus Alliance and the Jade Sky Confederacy, tension coiled tighter than a drawn bowstring. Flags rose. Camps formed. Armies amassed, cloaked in righteousness and heresy alike.Lucien stood beneath the rustling leaves of a windworn pine, overlook
Chapter 15: Mark of the Tribunal
Dawn had not yet broken, but the forest surrounding the ruined Burning Orchid Sect lay bathed in a haunting haze of residual karma. The air shimmered faintly, twisted by unseen threads of divine backlash that crackled through the soil and leaves. Where once the sect had stood proudly, now only fractured spires and collapsing towers remained, their foundations crumbling beneath the judgment of a righteous storm.Lucien stood alone at the edge of a cliff overlooking the scorched grounds. Below, where karma storms howled like grieving ghosts, the last embers of corruption were still being devoured. It should have brought him peace, but there was none. Victory had come with silence, not celebration.Behind him, deep within the forest, thirteen children slept in a sacred warding circle, tucked away in a mossy grove of spiritroot trees. Each child had once been bound by soul-branding and karmic suppression arrays. Now, they breathed freely. Safe. For now.Lucien turned to leave—when fire er
Chapter 14: Burning Orchid Sect
The forest at the base of the Burning Orchid Sect bloomed with silent lies.Petals shimmered in the breeze, each one etched with spiritual glyphs that pulsed like soft heartbeat sigils. Disciples in white and crimson robes moved through the flower-laced courtyards, their faces placid, their footsteps light. Children laughed beneath the shade of ancient spirit trees, and monks chanted beside clear pools of water.It was paradise. On the surface.Lucien moved through the outer training grounds in a humble traveler's garb, his divine presence veiled, his karmic thread compressed to near invisibility. The System’s interface blinked softly in his peripheral vision.System Observation:Sealed Karma Signatures Detected.Technique: Celestial Suppression Array — Modified Form.Host Condition: Passive Extraction Status.His eyes narrowed. The children he passed had faint smiles, but their karmic threads were unnatural—not broken, but bound, compressed deep within their spiritual cores.Not stol
Chapter 13: Oracle Sight
The cave above the ridge was little more than a hollow in the cliff, carved by wind and time and the bones of long-dead beasts. The scent of ash still lingered from the fight with the Karma Hunter. Outside, the wind clawed at the mouth of the cave, howling as if to remind Lucien that survival, for him, would never again be quiet.He sat cross-legged near a circle of cold embers, his cloak discarded, his shirt bloodied and torn where the guandao had struck. The wound ached with a deeper kind of pain—not just physical, but spiritual. The cursed relic had left a trace.Lucien exhaled slowly."Begin purification," he whispered.System Response:Minor Purification Trial: Completed.Karmic Thread Stabilized.Warmth washed through his veins, divine in origin, but fading quickly. He could not rely on purification forever. The fights ahead would only get worse.The System flickered in his vision, but something was different.Gold light. Not harsh like judgment, but ancient and solemn, like a d
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 na
Chapter 11: The Bounty
The world did not tremble when Myra Langley died.But the winds changed.They carried whispers — not of rumor, but of reckoning.From the spirit-swept cliffs of the Northern Sky Temple to the sun-scorched outposts of the Scorched Expanse, the tale bled into the air like a karmic contagion.In the northern borderlands, disciples gathered around dwindling campfires, their voices hushed, afraid that even the flame might eavesdrop.“Did you hear? Dawnsworn’s Sect Master... dead. Executed.”A younger disciple, his robes tattered from training, leaned forward. “By whom?”No one spoke at first. Then, an older cultivator, his eyes heavy with things seen, whispered, “They call him... The Wandering Executioner.”Across the war-torn fields of the East, amidst charred banners and broken spears, a battlefield cleric unrolled a scroll, the ink still drying with blood-scented qi. He read it once and dropped it as though it burned his hands.“Impossible,” he muttered, backing away. “She was... eterna
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