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Advent of the Demon's Soulforge

Sins? I’ve committed many. Faults? I won’t deny them. Regrets? Well, there is one. It’s that I wasn’t greedy enough! Cyril is a dead man walking. No, literally. After a lively but short life, like a fiery candle’s flame, he has been sent to Hell to be judged on Heaven’s authority. His sins aren’t few, and he was truly prepared to burn for what he had done. But little did he know, his death would only be the beginning of his true life – a potentially eternal one – and it all begins with a system. ******** Disclaimer: This novel isn't meant to lecture you on morality or religious beliefs, and everything is written with respect. It's meant solely to be an entertaining novel. Tags: Fantasy, Dark, System, Swords & Magic, Transmigration, World-hopping, Demon MC. Non-human MC, Afterlife

BelethBeleth · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
13 Chs

Judgement

"Cyril Surrey." A resonant voice sounded throughout the massive room. It wasn't a deep voice by any means, but its weight seemed to shake the very air.

In a gargantuan room, one that could fit a mountain, a giant white crescent counsel table stood. The giant desk, curiously enough, had its inner section facing outwards towards the accused. It was like half of a donut, with the "arms" pointing forwards.

It was a scene, to Cyril, that emulated a court proceeding. But it was also unlike any court proceeding he had ever seen, as it was of an unimaginably large scale.

The table alone was the size of a giant stadium, its counsel table stretching from one end to another. The room was decorated in gold trimming, marble, and elegant patterns engraved into the walls and floor. It felt more like a proceeding for titans than a human.

But the room itself and its size wasn't all.

The table was at least fifty feet tall and the room was fairly darkened, but the stone podium Cyril was standing on was positioned far enough to see a faint figure behind the giant table.

It was of the man that had spoken.

He was quite tall even sitting, possibly a head taller than the average man. Black, glossy hair ran down from his head to his lower back, but it didn't detract from his masculinity. He was dressed in a pure-white robe which revealed slight muscles over his body – along with not a single hint of excess fat. His facial features were sharp and well-defined, but his expression was gentle, being a smile filled with warmth. His golden eyes were the most notable feature about his face, which was already outstanding.

While he wasn't the sort of handsome that would make fangirls foam at the mouth, he was without a doubt good-looking. More than that, to Cyril, it seemed even… undeniable.

Looking at him gave Cyril the sense that he was the closest to an objective beauty in the world that everyone could agree upon. It was like that because he was simply too perfect, to the point of unnaturalness.

There was only one part of him that didn't quite seem perfect, and it was also a part that indicated at the fact that he wasn't human.

It was of a clearly seen pair of black-feathered wings, almost like a raven's, that lay folded behind him. It was a severe contrast to his pure white appearance, and therefore extremely noticeable.

The man sat upon a chiseled throne made from a strange white stone. It was strange because it, like himself, seemed unblemished. It also emulated a faint white light which allowed Cyril to see the man better.

Cyril, a fairly good-looking gentleman seeming to be in his mid-thirties to forties, stood silently on the podium.

While the man on the throne had called his name, Cyril remained silent. This was because he clearly didn't intend for a response.

The winged man held a sheet of parchment paper in his hands, yellowed and worn. It almost looked like he was reading off of it, but his eyes remained focused on Cyril the entire time.

"Before the Eternal Court, you stand as the accused. In your mortal life, you have broken seven of the ten revered commandments." The man paused for a moment, as if to make sure Cyril acknowledged his words, before continuing. "As an information broker, conman, and drug dealer in your life, you are accused of indirect murder, thievery and robbery, coercion, and ruining the lives and happiness of many. Do you deny?"

His words should have been indecipherable a such a distance, but Cyril heard him just fine.

"I don't."

"Your motivation, at first spurred by your sister's death, then for your own sake. Are you aware of how much suffering your actions have caused?" The judge's voice was completely monotone as he spoke.

"I am aware."

"" The man merely looked at him for a while, observing him. "You are only partially aware. You know what your actions have caused, but you do not know how many lives they have ruined."

Cyril had nothing to say in response to his words as they were likely true.

As an information dealer, he had indiscriminately sold the information of his clients and others alike. His actions had led to the murders of a few, and some of them had even caused bloody battles and wars. It would be correct to say he was the culprit of indirect murders, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him a murderer himself.

As a drug dealer, he had dealt not only to adults, but to children. Where money could be made, he would be the first to be there, and his actions had ruined the futures and livelihoods of many. He had broken their families apart, crippling them.

As a conman, he had both undervalued and overvalued the creations of others to suit his needs – whichever would rope him more money. He had taken unjust credit from talented people, ruining their livelihoods, and he had plagiarized freely.

From Cyril's understanding of morality, the sins that the man had listed out were only a fraction of the evildoing he had committed.

"Your actions were motivated purely by your own interest. You are accused of the mortal sin of greed."

Turning his head up, Cyril greeted the judge's gaze with his own. "Please wait a moment."

""

"Is it wrong to live for yourself in this world? Is it wrong to wish for a better life, or to reach out and grab onto it when you have the opportunity? You mentioned my sister, and I would like to say that I promised her that I would live life to the fullest. I was fulfilling my promise, can you really call that greed?"

Cyril wasn't justifying himself, nor was he disputing the fact that he had committed sins. He was simply curious about the thought-process and morality of the judges in front of him, the ones anointed by God.

"Living for yourself is not inherently wrong, but you have sacrificed others to do so." The winged man's voice remained monotone, his eyes still on Cyril.

"Is that wrong? If there are two starving people and only one piece of meat, do you honestly believe that it can be shared?" The middle-aged man inhaled a breath. He spoke confidently and calmly. "Or do you mean to tell me that it's sinful to take that meat and survive? Taking that meat could be considered self-defence, those are the actions that I've similarly taken in life to live for myself."

"A fallacy1. Taking the meat is not sinful. Eating it at the expense of the other person is not sinful. Giving the meat would make you a good person. But there is a line, even though it is blurry when relating to greed. To call it self-defence and to say you are living for yourself, that requires control." The man's expressions were slightly difficult to see at a distance, but they were clearly emotionless. "What you have done is equivalent to not only taking the meat that the other person has given you, but also killing and eating them to satisfy your own hunger, even though they had not raised a hand against you. Tell me, is that not sinful?"