Atticus narrowed his gaze at the blinding figure hovering in the sky.
'The High Judicator.'
A cascade of golden light poured from his body, spilling downward and plunging the already golden world into an even deeper radiance.
Atticus could feel the overwhelming heaviness that had gripped him the moment he arrived, as though the world itself were pressing down upon him.
'The territory god.'
Atticus tightened his grip on his katana. The man looked old and frail, yet a suffocating sense of danger radiated from him.
The High Judicator's eyes gleamed coldly as they bore down upon Atticus.
"I've finally found you."
"It's the High Judicator!"
"He's here!"
"We're saved!"
The millions of citizens fleeing for their lives halted the instant they saw the High Judicator. Loud cheers erupted as they began chanting his name.
The golden light surrounding the High Judicator seemed to intensify with their voices. His presence swelled, growing heavier as it pressed down upon the world.
