Divine Flame Crystal

Chapter 647: Judgment Law

"From this day forward, prayer battles are not requests for help, but judgments." Valerian's voice was low. "We will no longer simply align and form, but will write our names and sins into the fire of our hearts. The Knights of the Inquisition are forged from this moment on."

He unfolded a new ritual diagram, titled "The Law of Judgment":

The outer ring is still guarding the law, but a "judgment platform" is added in each of the four directions;

The inner ring is divided into three sections: Xuan, Lao, and Shu;

The Echo Well was renamed the "Pan Well", and a small white lime scale was embedded in the well wall, rising and falling with the sound.

The marginal notes were few and far between, like short legal provisions carved on bones:

"Will comes before strength, and reputation comes before fire. If the will is insufficient, the fire will die out; if the reputation is unclear, the fire will backfire."

"To judge is not to kill, but to order. The dead are included in the order; the living are to keep the order."

Sometimes it's like that; some things can only be understood through personal experience. Compared to obscure magical training methods, this newly born singer's power is quite simple and clear, but without experience, it's still difficult to grasp at a glance, let alone master. Plain language can indeed make most people understand, but it can also lead to ambiguity. A single sentence explanation, while understandable, loses a certain power. It's said that in the Great Demon Age, a magician's single word was equivalent to a series of magical spells, and that word contained the power to resonate with heaven and earth. If the word is explained in detail, it loses its power and magic.

Cyrus stepped forward and saluted: "Start with me."

Valerian shook his head. "You have already set the beam, not entered the fire first. The blank is the most revealing." His eyes swept across the crowd, fell on Reinhardt, moved away, and finally stopped at Ilio.

"Little one?" Ilio's back tensed.

"You are a song-driven type," Valerian said. "The fire does not allow you to sing beautifully, but only to sing correctly. If you are steady, you will know whether the Holy Inquisition can stand firm among the human voice."

Elio swallowed. "I—can."

Elio stood bare-chested before the Well of Judgment. Mara hung up the white ash scales, a tiny gray star at the end, like a tear condensed in the air.

"Speak your will and your sin." Valerian stood beside the scales.

"May..." Elio looked at the well, "May I sing steadily, and let others live."

"crime?"

"I... am still afraid of pain. I'm afraid of death. And I'm afraid of seeing others die."

The Libra star trembled slightly, tilted slightly towards Yuan, and then slowly returned to normal.

Valerian neither praised nor criticized him. This was a form of redemption, and it had little to do with others. As long as they weren't guilty of the most heinous crimes, they would basically pass. "Record your name."

Hubert handed him the carving knife. Elio gritted his teeth and carved his name: not the beautiful holy characters, but the exact strokes he had practiced since childhood. Blood oozed out, sliding along the roots of the characters into his skin.

Libra is stable.

"Enter the ring." Valerian raised his hand. "Bound."

Xuan is still a song, replacing the threshold song with a "recitation song". The chorus does not sing "God", but only sings the name":

"I-lio-here."

"I-li-o-wish."

"I-li-o-shou."

The repeated "yes," "will," and "keep" were like wooden stakes driven into the bones of his chest. Pain erupted from the first stake, radiating along his ribs and outward. Ilio learned to find a rhythm in the pain, each breath like a stream of wind pouring back into his chest.

Branding is bone carving. The runesmith didn't pursue complexity, using only three strokes: one on the sternum, writing "in"; one on the left rib, writing "wish"; and one on the right rib, writing "guard." With each stroke, Mara added a drop of holy oil, and the oil blended into the blood, which then turned into light.

When it came to "Guard", Valerian gently stuffed the bone lamp into the lamp position carved on the sternum, not burying it deep, but buckling it.

The fire wasn't strong, just a tiny glimmer of light burning within his bones. It was as if a soldier suddenly stood at attention within Ilio's chest, ensuring he wouldn't get lost in the darkness.

"Bind it." Valerian touched the lamp lightly with the Inquisition Wheel. Though the silver ring was cracked, it was like a stubborn hand, fastening the bone lamp to the skeleton.

The chorus's stitching song turns into a "combination song", with small beats as dense as stitches.

Ilio's pain receded like a red tide, leaving only a quiet breathing sound - the light is on, and the pain listens to the light; the light is not extinguished, and the beating will not be disordered.

He uttered his first word, not as bright as before, but deep, short, and hard, like a hammer hitting a table: "Here."

Second bite: "Wish."

The third one: "Guard."

The star on the white ash scale jumped three times in a row, and each jump increased the echo of the judgment well in the chest cavity by one point.

"Remember," Valerian turned to Hubert. "Ilio—cut the fire and make it close; the bone lantern stands upright; do not miss a beat."

Ilio stepped down from the energy ring generated by the hymn, sweat and blood dripping down his waistline. He didn't smile, but stepped aside, standing firm like a sentry on a new shift. He suddenly realized: he was less afraid of pain. It wasn't because the pain had lessened, but because a light had shone in his chest, condensing his faith and belief. When the pain came, his eyes were filled with the path he should take.

"Next." Valerian pointed to Reinhardt.

The war is still going on, so new people are needed to join and improve. They are rising stars, the Embers Knights, and this path of the singers also needs countless pioneers to explore and improve. Only in this way can they survive and become strong in this continent.

The strong young man lay on the broken platform, his star sank for a moment as the white ash scales hung on him—his "sin" was grave. Reinhardt himself admitted, "I have killed those who surrendered."

The scale star is tilted and the scale is not straight.

The square was completely silent, with only the faint echo of dripping water from the well.

Valerian didn't yell at him, nor did he make excuses. He hung the white ash scale an inch higher, adjusted the angle so that the scale star fell on the north side of the judgment tower. "Make up for the wish."

"What?" Reinhardt said hoarsely.

"Protect two latecomers," Valerian said. "From this day forward, protect two unmarked individuals for three rounds. If you fail to protect them, the scale will tilt three points further. If you succeed, the scale will return to normal."

Reinhardt was silent, gritted his teeth, and carved the three words "Protect the Second Name" into Panjing.

Libra has returned half way, not yet fully straight.

"That's enough." Valerian nodded. "Your sins will remain as they are. Continue to live and atone for them."

The bone carving began. Reinhardt's fire was so intense that the bone lamp nearly exploded in his chest as it settled into place. The Inquisition Wheel tapped his chest repeatedly—one by one, like an angry "Stand still" message.

"Come on." The chorus sang his anger into sentences and put the sentences into the beat. If the stars fell here, they would definitely feel that this scene had a rap flavor.

When he sat up, his eyes still bright, but no longer about to burst. He stood down, pressed his chest, and said his first words after the trial: "Protect two names—then you can live."

Mara added in the margin: "Debts can be cut, but they must be repaid after they have been cut."

Twenty-one people entered the circle, fourteen stood on their lanterns, and the remaining seven had their lanterns broken—not dead, but extinguished. They were temporarily held outside the circle, subject to the "return to camp" and "replenishment law," waiting to be refilled after their wishes and names were fulfilled. Otherwise, they would fall into eternal sleep until their energy was exhausted and the flame of life was extinguished.

Cyrus then stepped forward, removed his armor, and entered the ring. The white-gray scales barely moved, and the Libra star on the "Wish" side was as steady as the moon in a shallow well.

"willing?"

"Guard the town and the road."

"crime?"

"We burned the doubters, but too quickly."

Libra shook for a moment and then slightly returned to normal.

Cyrus carved two words beside the judgment well: "Delayed Burning."

Valerian looked at him for a long time and said, "Yes." He gently placed the Holy Wheel of Inquisition on Cyrus' chest, and the broken part of the silver ring fit perfectly with the wound on Cyrus.

"Promotion," he announced. "From today on, the wheelbarrow bearers will be 'Knights of the Holy Inquisition,' and the rest will be 'Inquisition Teams.'"

Celine tied the broken blade back on her back, letting the cloak fall lower on her shoulders, revealing a small section of the wheel marks on her chest. Her voice was very short: "Here," like a knife being sheathed and then sheathed again.

Carron did not enter the wheel; he was still the beam of energy transmission, standing by the judges' platform, using his wooden leg to "tap" each beat. He did not need to say "here", he was currently responding to the existence of being.

Outside the ceremonial room, the wind blew in from the streets of Varne, carrying with it the scent of salt, flour, and lanterns. Two new lines were inscribed on the gray seal:

"The team leaves town, the lights go first."

“Whenever you meet a white stone, first ask about its name, then its sin, and finally its wish.”

"From today on, accountability is not about scaring people, but about showing them the way forward." Mara said to the children in the Tongchangfang, "Whoever can explain his or her sins clearly will be able to walk more steadily on the road." The children nodded in confusion and wrote down the three new words they had learned on the blackboard: be, wish, and keep.