Since the Chief had said so, Alex had no reason to continue refusing. He reached up, pulled at the scarf, and removed it, revealing the pale skin of his neck and the dark mark lying dormant upon it.
The Chief leaned in to look at the pattern on Alex's neck. With just one glance, his pupils contracted violently. His eyes felt as if they were being pricked by thousands of needles, transmitting intense pain, while a bone-chilling cold rushed straight into his brain.
He immediately closed his eyes and took a quick step back: "You can cover it now, Alex."
Hearing this, Alex put the scarf back on, covering the mark: "It is very dangerous."
The Chief composed himself for a moment, his forehead beaded with cold sweat: "Indeed, I underestimated it."
This thing was likely even harder to deal with than believers of evil gods. It could even make a Level Four Judge feel a madness he hadn't felt in a long time, like staring straight into an abyss.
A new problem was revealed accordingly.
A mark that could hurt a Level Four Judge with just a glance—why could it not drive an ordinary boy into madness? Sixteen years; he couldn't possibly have never seen this mark. Why was the boy safe and sound? Why was his mind still so clear?
"Alex, do you know why it doesn't harm you?"
Alex shook his head, his expression confused: "I don't know."
"You are lying, Alex." The Chief's expression became serious, and the air around them seemed to freeze: "Tell me, why does it not harm you?"
"I'm not." Alex panicked momentarily. He genuinely didn't know why the mark didn't harm him. Why did the Judge feel he was lying? Could the truth he believed in be wrong?
Perhaps he knew the reason, only he thought he didn't know. Was his subconscious hiding something?
Then which is it? Alex quickly recalled everything related to the mark but found not a single clue. He completely didn't know what the answer was; his mind was a tangled mess.
"Alex, give me the answer." The Chief's voice became stern, echoing like a bronze bell. He finally brought out the majesty required of a high-ranking Judge, using mental pressure to force a confession.
Alex was forced back a step by him, his back hitting the hard back of the bench. Every fine hair on his body stood on end. It felt as though countless mountains were pressing down on him, making it impossible to breathe, his chest tight as if it were about to explode. Gary flew chaotically around him, full of unease, a look of pain also appearing on its small face. It wanted to help Alex but couldn't get close to the source of that pressure.
Alex's face turned bright red. He wanted to breathe, opening his mouth to gasp for air, but he couldn't do it.
"No lie can escape a Judge."
"If you refuse to admit your fault, you will face judgment."
Layer upon layer of sound echoed in the great hall, striking his eardrums and infiltrating every brain cell, like invisible sound waves crashing toward Alex. In an instant, he turned into a criminal of heinous crimes, and the person before his eyes was the supreme magistrate pronouncing the sentence.
This was the true meaning of a Judge—the one who holds the scales of justice and punishment.
"I. Do. Not. Know." Alex hissed a few words through his teeth, sweat streaming down his temples, but his eyes remained stubborn, refusing to yield.
"Obstinate until death, refusing to change." The Chief's figure became ethereal, merging as one with the surrounding light. Behind him, a tall shadow slowly emerged, majestic and terrifying. If one observed closely, they would discover this shadow was one of the stone statues erected in the Hall of Divine Selection—the Angel of Judgment.
A giant sword of brilliant gold materialized from the angel's hand, its light so blinding it outshone everything around it, appearing simultaneously in the Chief's hand. He raised the giant sword high, his muscles bulging, and made a decisive chopping motion downward.
"Judgment!"
Alex closed his eyes in terror, gripping the small knuckles in his hand so tight the joints turned white. He felt death approaching, cold and cruel.
After a long time, the imagined pain did not appear. There was only the sound of wind howling in his ears. Alex carefully opened his eyes. The giant sword had not fallen; it hovered in mid-air, blocked by an invisible force. Blocking it was a bright red flag fluttering in the wind.
In the Hall of Divine Selection, another angel statue suddenly lit up. A red light, blinding as fresh blood, flooded the entire hall, dyeing the holy space crimson.
They were nine beams of red light shooting straight up to the blue sky, piercing through the cathedral dome. Each beam exuded a thick aura of slaughter, as if one were swept into endless warfare, as if walking upon a desolate land filled with corpses.
Chaotic sounds rang in Alex's ears: the sound of charge bugles, the clash of swords and spears, people wailing miserably, people dying in pools of blood, people charging with savage screams, people falling in defeat.
Fire was burning furiously, consuming everything. Blood was flowing like rivers. War was spreading to every corner. The pungent smell of rust and blood rushed into the nose, making one nauseous.
A boy's voice rang out at this moment, clear but carrying a strange majesty: "I met a god."
"He said He is an angel, an angel of the Goddess."
"His name is War."
When Wood and Hughes stepped into the Hall of Divine Selection, what struck their eyes was exactly such a terrifying scene.
Two tall angels confronted each other: one side was the brilliant gold of Judgment, the other the crimson red of War. Nine pillars of blood-red light surrounded the thin boy, protecting him from the blade of judgment. The red banner fluttered violently even without wind, and the holy hall was momentarily filled with gunpowder smoke and killing intent.
The two men exchanged a look of understanding, both seeing extreme shock in the other's eyes.
Those pillars of light were the symbol of passing the Divine Selection. The more pillars of light, the greater the compatibility with the god's power. At least one beam, at most nine beams.
When Wood participated in the Divine Selection years ago, the pillars of light connecting to the Angel of Judgment reached seven, which was already considered a rare genius. It had even attracted the attention of the Sanctuary, leading to him being groomed as a key figure—let alone the full nine beams of brilliant red light before their eyes.