Hearing Ruyion’s slightly angry words, the pitch-black shadow’s mouth cracked wide open, stretching all the way to its ears, revealing a terrifying grin that could hardly be called a smile.
Accompanied by the sound of bones grinding and cracking, the shadow withdrew its gaze from Ruyion and turned back to hover near Rinne Amaki’s ear, emitting heavy, labored breaths.
It ceased its movements over Rinne’s delicate body, its bloodshot crimson eyes unaffected by the darkness, immediately spotting the white Aya pressed against her heart.
“Hoh…”
A look of intoxicated pleasure spread across its grotesque face. Its arm, covered in terrifying, centipede-like crimson wounds, slowly reached out toward Aya.
Its palm overlapped with Rinne Amaki’s, two monstrous figures pressing down on the heart of a dying girl.
Rinne Amaki fought back a wave of nausea as half of her body was penetrated without any obstruction by the shadow. Both her flesh and soul trembled with fear. She had no physical form, for she was the complete manifestation of the slave girl’s racial talent—she was the “Law of Life and Death.”
She was a spectral entity of her tribe, summoned by the alien bloodline flowing within her.
She represented the full unlocking of the slave girl’s power, the culmination of her evolution into the most terrifying killing weapon.
“Death and rebirth, Aya Eifel Chlorom, what awaits you before your eyes—let me have a look.” Rinne Amaki whispered softly.
At the same time, an evil cackling laugh echoed.
The horrifying pitch-black shadow’s empty hand traced purple patterns out of thin air, one after another ancient and eerie symbols appearing on its wrist—only the most learned could recognize it as the language of the underworld.
When the final stroke of the pattern was completed, a set of scales materialized in its hand.
“The time has come to judge the soul of the sinner.”
Rinne Amaki withdrew her hand, and the shadow mirrored the action. From that moment, Aya’s body began to petrify at a visible speed.
In Rinne’s palm lay a faint ice-blue light source. Though weak, it still dispelled some of the surrounding darkness.
It was an exceptionally pure and pristine soul, untouched by any corruption, as clear as a mountain stream under afternoon sunlight. Such a person, surely, could ascend to heaven after death. Rinne found herself momentarily captivated by the beautiful hues of that soul—after all, it was something she could never reach.
Her own soul was tainted, destined to one day fall into a lightless hell, and since the day she became a murderer, she had mentally prepared for it.
The pitch-black shadow, holding the scales, floated before Rinne Amaki. Bathed in the glow of Aya’s soul, she could clearly see the monstrous visage of the creature before her.
Every time it appeared, it never concealed its desires. If it represented the will of its tribe, then that will must desperately want her dead.
Though she couldn’t understand its language, from its excited panting she inexplicably understood its wish—it urged her to meet death quickly, already eager to possess her flesh.
Even now, its crimson eyes shamelessly exposed its lust. Surely, her fate after death would be a tragic one.
Under her emotionless gaze, it extended the scales toward Rinne Amaki, then ceased all movement except for its terrifying, intermittent breaths.
It was demanding her soul—that much Rinne understood.
Then let it begin.
“Begin the judgment.”
Rinne Amaki gently placed Aya’s soul on the middle tray of the scales. This set of scales was the physical embodiment of the “Scales of Burial and Rebirth,” carrying a three-quarters chance of burial and one-quarter chance of revival. Which side it would tilt to, or whether it would be a hundred percent death, would be revealed the moment the scales began to weigh the soul.
The scales were peculiarly constructed, featuring three silver trays arranged on both sides and the center. The central tray served only as a resting place and did not influence the weighing result—or so it seemed.
In reality, only the central tray actually measured weight. The two side trays were merely decorative, in a sense.
There were no markings on the scales. The smooth silver surface shimmered without any indication of gradation. Don’t blame the craftsman for laziness or forgetfulness; the scales simply didn’t measure mass. They measured fate—an ever-changing, unpredictable fate. But there was no need to worry about inaccuracies or insufficient detail, because these scales measured the simplest fate—one that all living beings must pass through.
The fate of rebirth and death.
The moment Aya’s soul was placed on the silver scales and pressure registered on the tray, flames burst forth on both ends of the scales. The left tray burned with a faint green flame, symbolizing vitality and life, while the right tray blazed with a dark purple fire, representing desolation and death.
Soul secured! The flames of judgment were ignited! Under the cold gazes of Ruyion and Rinne Amaki, the scales broke their stillness and began to tilt. The flames on both sides flickered and roared fiercely with the movement.
At that moment, the blue light source on the center tray suddenly flickered violently, then slowly faded until it was almost extinguished, so faint it seemed as if it would vanish into thin air.
Rinne Amaki recognized this as a sign that Aya was nearing death. No matter what, her fate would soon be revealed.
When the initial tremor subsided and the scales reached a new balance, they began to make their choice—and the result was that the left tray slowly lowered, the green flame of life growing stronger. The path of rebirth was opening!
No sign of joy appeared on Ruyion’s face; he held no hope, for he had seen this scene countless times before.
Rinne Amaki lowered her eyelids slightly, quietly watching the descending tray. Her heart was calm and unmoved, for she knew exactly what would happen next.
Sure enough, it was the same as always. There was no difference whatsoever. Aya Eifel Chlorom was beyond saving.
Neither Ruyion nor Rinne Amaki harbored any hope for this favorable outcome.
As if contrasting their calmness, suddenly the green-flamed tray’s momentum faltered—it did not reach the bottom.
“Jjejejejeje…”
At the right end of the scales, a black shadow’s hand pressed down, passing through the dark purple flames. Even its fingers, burned to blackened bones, pressed firmly against the base, applying external force to upset the scales’ balance—and thus deciding the final outcome.
“Giving hope only to snatch it away again. The underworld beings are just this cruel. Their tricks never change; it’s a truly vile sense of humor.” Ruyion said calmly, “Because they loathe the living, the death rate on the ‘Scales of Burial and Rebirth’ is always one hundred percent.”
The underworld creatures were among the horrors of the 【SLAVE】 world, and this was reasonable—they were messengers of despair. Even as mere manifestations of racial talent, they remained utterly despicable.
No matter how much they were condemned, they would never be obedient children reflecting on their ways.
The tray burning with pale green flames ceased descending and began to rise slowly, while the right tray started to fall, its dark purple fire swelling. Finally, the two trays leveled out.
After a brief pause, the trays moved in opposite directions—rebirth and death alternating.
Aya’s fate was decided.