System Of Judgment: Rise Of Kael

Chapter Two: The Stranger in Gold

The stranger stepped closer, tall, cloaked in shadow, boots silent on marble. 

Beneath the hood, Kael caught the faint gleam of gold embroidery and the glint of cold eyes that had seen too much. 

“Stay back,” Kael warned, chain tightening around his arm. “You move one step.”

The man raised both hands, calm. His voice was smooth, confident. “If I wanted you dead, you’d never have heard my voice.”

Kael’s jaw tensed. “Then say what you want.”

The stranger circled him, studying the room, the corpse, the scorch marks, the faint shimmer of the System’s sigils fading into the air. “So the whispers were true,” he murmured. “Another one… chosen by the System.”

Kael froze. “You know about it?”

The stranger gave a faint, humorless smile. “I know more than you can imagine. My name is Corvin Duskvale. And you, Kael Thorn… you’ve just lit a fire that will burn this city to ashes.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “You talk too much for someone trespassing.”

Corvin’s gaze slid to the chain still sparking with blue light. “That power, it’s louder than thunder. Do you think the Church won’t hear it?”

“Let them come,” Kael said through his teeth. “I’ve judged worse.”

Corvin chuckled, low and sharp. “Judged? You think that word makes you righteous? You just murdered a noble of the crown. You’ve made yourself a ghost with no grave.”

Kael’s hand twitched toward his weapon. “Then maybe I’ll drag the whole crown down with me.”

Corvin’s tone hardened. “And what then? When their soldiers burn the streets? When the Church brands every beggar a sinner because of you? You’ll drown in blood before your vengeance is half done.”

Kael’s glare faltered for the first time. His voice came softer, bitter. “They already drowned us once.”

For a heartbeat, silence. The rain filled it, steady, relentless. Corvin sighed, lowering his hood. 

He was younger than Kael expected, sharp-featured, a streak of silver through his black hair, and a thin gold mask covering one eye. 

A man who wore secrets like armor. “You’ve got the System’s mark,” he said quietly. “That means you’ve been chosen to judge this rotten empire. Or destroy it.”

Kael’s eyes darkened. “Chosen? I didn’t ask for this.”

“None of us do,” Corvin said. “But it’s here now. And if you keep swinging that chain without direction, the ones who really pull the strings will crush you before you reach the gates.”

Kael’s fists clenched. “You said ‘another one.’ There were others?”

Corvin hesitated. Then nodded. “Years ago. Men and women branded by the same lightning. They called themselves Judges. The Church hunted them, erased their names. The last one was said to have fallen to madness.”

“Who?”

Corvin’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Ser Alaric Vorn. High Inquisitor of the Church.”

Kael’s breath caught. The name seared into his mind, it was the same one he’d seen in the overseer’s final memories.

Corvin watched his reaction carefully. “So. You’ve seen it too. The System’s not just a weapon, Kael. It’s a curse passed from hand to hand. And the Church wants it back.”

Kael turned toward the corpse, lightning still flickering faintly beneath his skin. “Then they’ll have to take it from me.”

Corvin’s smirk returned. “Spoken like a man who hasn’t yet met them.”

Outside, the streets of Rhaegor pulsed with panic. Church bells tolled from the cathedral towers, an alarm Kael had never heard before. Soldiers flooded the alleys, torches painting fire over the rain.

Corvin led Kael through narrow lanes, each turn a shadow deeper than the last. “You’ve got half the city hunting you,” Corvin muttered. “Your System left traces, energy spikes the priests can track. The longer we stay, the closer they get.”

Kael followed, jaw set. “Then why help me?”

Corvin glanced over his shoulder. “Because I sell secrets, not corpses. And right now, you’re the loudest secret in Rhaegor.”

They ducked into an old clockmaker’s workshop. Inside, gears and chains littered the tables, metal skeletons of forgotten inventions. Kael collapsed against the wall, chest heaving. “You should’ve left me.”

Corvin shrugged. “Maybe. But you looked too angry to die.”

Kael glared. “You find this funny?”

“Only tragic things make me laugh,” Corvin said softly. “You’ll learn.”

Lightning flashed through the window. The city’s bells rang again, closer. Corvin drew a dagger and pressed it into Kael’s hand. “If we’re caught, stab me first.”

Kael blinked. “Why?”

Corvin grinned faintly. “Because I’d rather die quick than explain why I sheltered the empire’s newest heretic.”

Kael stared at him for a long second, then, unexpectedly, a faint laugh broke through his exhaustion. “You’re insane.”

“Entirely.” Corvin looked out at the rain. “But survival requires madness.”

The door slammed open. Both men froze. A squad of soldiers burst in, armor glinting with the Church’s silver crest. 

Their leader stepped forward, a man in polished steel, hair white as frost. His voice was calm. Commanding. “Kael Thorn.”

Kael’s blood ran cold. He didn’t need to ask his name. The weight of it filled the room like thunder. Ser Alaric Vorn. “I expected fear,” Alaric said softly. “Instead, I find curiosity.”

Kael’s eyes locked with his. “You branded my kind before. Now you hunt me?”

Alaric’s lips curved faintly. “No. I created your kind.”

Corvin’s breath caught. “He’s lying.”

Alaric’s gaze slid to him. “The Broker’s whelp. Still peddling filth, I see.”

“Stay out of this,” Corvin snapped. “This isn’t your courtroom anymore.”

Alaric ignored him. His eyes never left Kael. “The System is mine by divine right. Return it, and I’ll grant you mercy.”

Kael’s voice trembled with fury. “Mercy? Like the mercy you showed the miners you buried alive?”

A faint flicker crossed Alaric’s face, almost regret, quickly buried under steel. “Justice demands sacrifice.”

“Then judge yourself!” Kael roared, lunging forward.

Lightning surged through the chain. It struck Alaric’s armor, sparks flying, but the man didn’t move. 

The air warped around him, golden light shimmering like a barrier. “Divine Sentence: Reflection.”

The energy rebounded. Kael crashed into the wall, blood spraying from his lip. Corvin grabbed him, dragging him behind a table. “We can’t fight him here!” Corvin hissed. “He’s a walking cathedral!”

Kael wiped blood from his mouth, eyes blazing. “Then I’ll bring the cathedral down!”

He hurled the chain again. This time, the System’s voice echoed in his mind.

[Judgment Target: Alaric Vorn.]

[Sin Level: UNKNOWN.]

UNKNOWN. The word flashed like a curse. Kael’s strike hit the wall behind Alaric, cracking stone. The Inquisitor didn’t flinch.

“Pathetic,” Alaric murmured. He raised his hand, holy fire blooming in his palm. “If the System truly chose you, then burn by its will.”

The fire roared. Corvin grabbed Kael’s arm. “Move!”

The explosion shattered the workshop. Gears flew, wood splintered, glass rained from the ceiling. The blast hurled them through the back wall and into the alley beyond.

Smoke swallowed everything. Kael coughed, pushing debris off his chest. His ears rang, eyes stinging. “Corvin?”

No answer. Through the haze, a figure limped toward him, Mira, a hooded girl with silver hair and amber eyes glowing faintly in the smoke. “Get up,” she said sharply, pressing a vial to his lips. “Drink.”

Kael blinked at her, dazed. “Who?”

“Later!” She pulled him to his feet. “You want to live or not?”

Alaric’s silhouette loomed through the fire, unhurried, relentless. Soldiers regrouped behind him. Mira shoved Kael toward a narrow gap in the wall. “Go!”

“What about Corvin?”

She glared. “If you stop, we all die!”

Kael stumbled through the passage, smoke choking his breath. The building behind him collapsed, flames painting the night red.

Outside, thunder rolled again, not from the sky, but from the city’s bells, tolling louder, closer.

Mira’s grip tightened on his wrist. “Congratulations, Judge. You’ve just declared war on the Church.”

Kael’s eyes widened. “How do you know.”

She met his gaze, voice low. “Because I was waiting for you.”

The wind howled through the ruins, scattering ash like snow. Behind them, Alaric stepped from the flames, unscathed, eyes gleaming with divine fury. “Run while you can,” his voice echoed through the smoke. “Every judgment you pass… brings you closer to mine.”