The sky above the Heavenly Tribunal was crimson.
Chains forged from divine laws wrapped around Kael Draven's body, piercing flesh and soul alike. Each link glowed with runes meant to suppress devils, gods, and everything in between. Blood dripped from his wrists, falling onto the execution platform where countless formations pulsed with killing intent.
Below him, the entire world had gathered.
Immortal sect masters. Divine generals. Self-righteous heroes. Even mortals who had once knelt at his feet now stood among the crowd, staring up with hatred, fear, and excitement.
At the highest altar, the woman in white stepped forward.
She was beautiful—cold, flawless, untouchable.
She was also the woman Kael had once loved.
Her voice echoed across the heavens as she read the decree, every word sharp enough to carve souls.
"Kael Draven, known as the Devil of Ruin. Crimes: annihilation of sects, defiance of heaven, corruption of fate itself. By the will of the world, you are sentenced to eternal erasure."
The crowd roared.
"Kill him!"
"Erase the devil!"
"Let his soul never reincarnate!"
Kael slowly lifted his head. His face was pale, his body broken, but his eyes were calm—terrifyingly calm.
He looked at the faces below him. The disciple he had saved from death. The brother who had sworn loyalty in blood. The elders who had begged for his protection.
Every single one of them had raised a hand against him.
"So this is how it ends," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
The woman in white did not meet his gaze as she raised the execution blade, a weapon formed from heavenly judgment itself. Its presence alone caused space to fracture.
"This must be done," she said.
Kael laughed.
It was soft at first—almost gentle.
Then it grew louder.
The heavens trembled.
"You united the world to kill me," Kael said, his voice suddenly carrying across the platform. "Did you ever stop to wonder why you were afraid of a dying man?"
Silence spread.
The execution blade descended.
At the exact moment it touched his neck, Kael smiled.
High above the tribunal, unseen by all, a crack spread across the sky—
as if the heavens themselves had just made a mistake.