Strongest Among the Heavens
Chapter 485: Judgement

Chapter 485: Judgement

"Here, I have drawn out a map of the Slums."

Sitting on the floor, Xavier tapped at the massive, three-metre long pencil-drawn map. Supremely detailed with individual homes and structures labelled, it appeared half complete.

"I drew it myself."

Dasha had his arms crossed, his eyes scanning the map. "The Cult of Serpents HQ is on the far west. I see that the further away from the Great Wall we get, the more spaced out the buildings and areas become. Less suspicion. Less people to see them."

The Slums themselves were located south-west of the Dark Tower. Due to the Great Wall, the Dark Tower was no longer in view. Here, the people could only whisper of its greatness; of the warriors that climbed the tower every day.

"Do not deactivate your invisibility cloak," Xavier advised. "Your old one would have burned in this environment. You’re lucky to wear what you wear."

"I know. I sensed the Qis of the people here. They are powerful and numerous in number."

Class 3: the class where modern weaponry would start losing their effectiveness. Bullets, missiles, that sort. The environment turned these people into natural born Class 3s.

Dasha was confident in killing hundreds of them, same as they did the monsters on the Wall. He estimated those monsters were Class 4. As a Class 5 entity at Level 65, he could kill hundreds. But thousands? Tens of thousand? His Qi could potentially run out.

"It’s more than that. I told you, the Underground is where demons and forgotten descendants of gods live. Here in the slums, the demons are most numerous. This is not a place to live like the Sukhothai or the Old Blood and Guts Neighborhood. You can’t reason with them, they believe only in living. You cannot exercise enough caution. Some of these battle-hungry people have become creatures that possess otherworldly powers and they know this territory well. I know you spent your time here, Jack, but you only killed. You acted on your instincts like the locals did. Investigating will not be as simple."

Always keep the invisibility cloak on. Be discreet. Don’t pick fights.

"Who is the strongest here?"

"Other than whispers of Moloch, I do not know. I try and limit my visits here.’

’Hmph, you spy but you do not involve yourself with the culture. Of course you will be biased. If one is to slaughter and enslave, one must first understand.’

"We should focus on investigating," Xavier said. "Given the risk of you being in the Slums, I will be your guide."

’Ironic,’ Dasha murmured in his head. ’For me of all people to be investigating missing children.’

Dasha stood up. "The children will be ours."

In that moment, judgement arrived.

His shadow rippled and Dasha’s Qi Sense caught it too late.

The temperature dropped instantly, like the first breath of winter after a sweltering summer. Shadows stretched unnaturally, creeping across the floor like living things. A presence—heavy, oppressive, suffocating—rose from Dasha’s own shadow.

A woman.

The woman pulled herself free, the darkness clinging to her form before dispersing in an unnatural breeze. She was hideous and magnificent all at once, an omen of divine punishment made flesh. Her body was wreathed in serpents, their bodies coiling around her arms and waist, their tongues flicking at the air. Her wings were tattered black, like funeral shrouds caught in an eternal gale. She carried a whip, its leather slick with something darker than mere blood. And her robe—long, black, the attire of a mourner—was as ancient as the concept of justice itself.

Xavier stiffened but did not draw his weapon.

Dasha? He simply watched.

The goddess’s gaze locked onto him, burning with something between disgust and fascination. Recognition.

"Tisiphone the goddess of vengeance," Xavier whispered, afraid.

Oh?

’Of the Erinyes?’

"So it is true," Tisiphone whispered, her voice a hiss that carried through the ruined air. "The Great Sin exists. The Great Sin has drudged up from the mud of the earth and ascended to the heavens."

Dasha did not flinch. "You sensed my great sins?"

Tisiphone’s whip coiled in her grip, the serpents entwining around her body hissing in agitation. "If you were a mere murderer," the goddess spat, "a warlord, a king of slavers—I would not have noticed you. But you... There is no foulness I have not smelled upon you. No heinous act I have not felt in your presence."

The room seemed to darken.

For Dasha Pang, it brightened. The world was made of logic. Every little thing. From Daughter to himself to this very moment. The few words and admissions she gave simply made everything clear. Nothing more, nothing less.

"You have done what even the blackest of souls would not dare. You have stained the world in ways that cannot be undone." Tisiphone’s voice rose in intensity, the divine fury boiling within her. "A hundred million victims! Their suffering, their deaths—you have orchestrated them all."

Xavier remained still, watching carefully, but Dasha?

Dasha simply cocked his head.

"And yet," he mused, "you hesitate."

That froze her.

For a being of pure retribution, hesitation was an anomaly. She had come to deliver punishment, to bring justice down upon the Great Sin himself—so why was she hesitating?

Dasha’s eyes gleamed with knowing amusement.

"You are a goddess of vengeance," Dasha murmured. "Yet you hold to your own principles, don’t you? Among all sins, there is one that you despise above all others. A crime that goes beyond mere slaughter, beyond war, beyond even what I have done."

Tisiphone’s fists clenched.

"The curse of a parent upon their child."

The words rang out like a death knell.

"Anyone acclimated with Greek mythology knows of you. You and your sisters were born of such a crime, were you not? Sprung from the blood of Uranus when he was castrated by his son and your brother, Kronos. And so, of all sins, you find this one the most unforgivable."

The mortal closed the distance between them.

"But I," Dasha proclaimed, "am also a product of that very sin."

The wrath in her eyes wavered.

"You lie," Tisiphone growled, but it was weak, uncertain. She could feel it. She felt it from the start. His death had no immediately happened because, as a goddess of judgement, she saw the scars of the soul. She weighed the balance between good and evil.

If this were any other deity, Dasha would be dead.

But these sisters were different.

"Do I?" Dasha jabbed a thumb at his heart as if inviting her to look deeper. "You know it. You see the scars in my soul. My mother wished me dead the moment I was born. She tried. And she failed. I was not meant to live, yet here I stand." His voice softened, the barest ghost of something mockingly tragic laced within. "Tell me, Tisiphone—if I had died as she wished, would I have ever become the Great Sin?"

Tisiphone stared.

For all her divine wrath, for all her rage, she could not deny it. He was right.

It was wrong.

It was infuriating.

But it was true.

Dasha sighed, as if lamenting the very thing that gave him life. "So now, you are at an impasse."

Tisiphone trembled, her entire form quaking with barely contained fury. She should end him. Punish him. Yet something within her—some deep, primordial bias born from her birth—held her back.

Gods of lightning struck with lightning. Gods of water ruled the waters. Gods of vengeances gave out vengeance. All were ruled by their own aspect, by their own histories.

The Erinyes could not judge him.

Not completely.

And that, more than anything, enraged her. That was wrong. She was a goddess, she could kill him in the blink of an eye. Dasha seized the moment with his words.

"Let me offer you a solution," he said smoothly. "You cannot decide if I should be judged—so why not let fate decide?"

Tisiphone’s ugly eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting?"

"A trial by combat." His voice was velvet, calculated. "Let me be judged properly by all three of you goddesses. Not by impulse. Not by bias. Let it be done in a manner that even you cannot question."

Tisiphone’s grip on her whip tightened, the leather straining.

"This is a trick," she hissed.

Dasha merely smiled. "Of course it is."

And yet, despite knowing that, she could not deny the offer.

"You will grow stronger."

"I will. But it is up to fate whether I grow stronger than three goddesses. Look at me: how strong am I?"

"You are...weak."

She could snap his fingers and end him. That was the vast difference between those above Class 6 and everyone below.

A trial by combat. A way for the gods and for fate to choose. A way to rid herself of this doubt. Altogether, the sisters would choose. Altogether, they would win or die trying. If the Great Sin seized victory, then so be it.

It was pride. It was fear. It was sympathy. It was rage.

"I accept these terms," Tisiphone said, all those emotions swirling. "But know this, Dasha Pang—we goddesses may not be warriors but we are divine. Fate is on OUR side, not yours."

Her eyes blazed with divine fire.

"I will ensure that your end is beyond even what the gods would grant you."

Dasha inclined his head. "I wouldn’t expect anything less. Two months. Let this trial occur in two months."

After a nod, Tisiphone’s form flickered, dissolving into the darkness once more. But she did not leave—not entirely.

Watching.

Waiting.

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