"You met the wrong man." A voice whispered into her ears. For the first time ever, Miquella shivered. Her left eye went to the corner and found Godfrey holding the backrest of her throne, leaning towards her.
His black sclera and golden pupils pierced her soul.
Miquella left her throne, somersaulting twice through the air and landing with one knee on the ground. Her eyes followed Godfrey who sat on her throne and entwined his fingers.
’Why isn’t my judgment working on him? Could it be...?! No it can’t be, he’s a newborn paragon!’
Her self-control was slowly slipping and it was evident from the doubtful expression on her face.
"You would have been dead if I wished to take your life but I really do not want to eliminate Earth’s powerhouses or that would make this world more vulnerable."
"So you care about the world now?" Miquella scoffed while rising to her feet, her back straight.
Godfrey looked at her. Silence settled between them and the air felt so tense it was hot.
There was no response for her. This world was a cage but also his safest ground. Cain would rather allow anyone to die than him.
That manipulation naturally made Godfrey colder but he still appreciated Earth, after all, it existed even before Cain was born, it existed before the apocalypse and besides, what would he gain from the death of millions, a good number of which might be real people.
Yes he didn’t want anyone close to him, he could barely bring himself to trust that this woman before him wasn’t a clone.
"Go back. Tell the seven to keep their eyes off me."
"You are guilty of threatening the judge and the punishment of that is death." Miquella’s eyes gleamed defiantly. At her judgment, the seven statues lifted their swords, making their way toward Godfrey.
"No. You’re guilty for threatening a Crown Prince of an entire race with death. The punishment of that..." As he spoke, Miquella’s eyes trembled.
What in the world was this feeling? Goosebumps flared up all over her body as her heartbeat roared in her ears. The reason?
Her statues, executors of her judgment, all turned to her while Godfrey spoke. This had never happened before.
At least someone stronger could just break away from her law but no one could usurp her authority in a court where she was the judge!
She held the final say.
That was how it was supposed to be.
"... You’d lose your limbs."
Miquella’s eyes widened to the limit, fear visible within them as the statues loomed over her. One of them swung its greatsword, slicing off one of her arms. A piercing scream filled with agony bounced against the walls of the hall as she collapsed on her knees, sweat pooling on her forehead.
Her eyes reddened, heart pounding like it wanted to escape. The shadows of her statues that once gave her power now terrified her to the depths of her soul.
"W... Wait—!" Miquella pleaded as the statues lifted their weapons. She had seen what they had done to others after judgment was passed. "Please!!"
Her scream pierced the air as she shut her eyes.
The moment her eyes opened again, Miquella found herself in the forest path facing Godfrey. Blood leaked down her mouth and though both arms were still intact, she couldn’t control the one that was sliced off in the judgment hall.
Her ability stood on the foundation of authority and law. That naturally gave her the advantage even to judge people stronger than her. Defeat had only been the end of whoever she faced due to how special her ability was.


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