The Slum God’s Decree

The night of Duke Nicodemus Valerius's gala arrived, draping the Onyx District in a blanket of velvet and diamonds. Grand carriages, pulled by magnificent, plumed horses, lined the pristine cobblestone streets, depositing the cream of Veridia's society at the Duke's sprawling manor. The estate was a monument to obscene wealth, its marble walls glowing with magical light, its gardens meticulously sculpted, the sound of music and tinkling laughter spilling from its open doors. It was a world away from the grime and despair of The Pit, a different reality altogether.

Inside, the grand ballroom was a kaleidoscope of vibrant silks, glittering jewels, and false smiles. Nobles and wealthy merchants mingled, their conversations a soft murmur of gossip, business deals, and veiled insults. Duke Valerius himself stood at the center of it all, a handsome, silver-haired man in his late fifties, his face a pleasant mask of avuncular charm. He accepted praise for his recent acquisition of the Vayne family mines, speaking of 'civic duty' and 'rescuing a failing enterprise,' his words dripping with a hypocrisy so profound it was an art form. None of his guests questioned it; most of them were complicit in similar, if less audacious, sins.

Unseen, on a high balcony overlooking the manor's main gate, two figures stood cloaked in shadow.

"It is as the woman said," Mira whispered, her eyes wide with a mixture of disgust and awe at the sheer opulence on display. She was clad in dark, inconspicuous clothing, the rebar spear she usually carried replaced with a pair of sharp daggers. "This city… it bleeds the rest of the world dry to live like this."

Ravi stood beside her, silent, his gaze sweeping over the scene. He wore no disguise, merely simple, dark trousers and a tunic that, while clean, seemed utterly out of place. Yet, no one on the streets below had spared him a second glance. A subtle aura of imperceptibility surrounded him, a low-level manipulation of mortal minds that made them see him as nothing more than a shadow or a servant.

His senses, however, were not veiled. He could feel the sins of the people in the ballroom below like a physical stench. Greed, lust, envy, casual cruelty, murderous intent – it was a concentrated cesspool of corruption, far more potent than the desperate depravity of The Pit. And at its center, Duke Valerius's soul radiated a darkness that was a beacon to Ravi's divine judgment.

"They wear masks of civility to hide the rot within," Ravi observed, his voice a low, chilling rumble. "Tonight, the masks will be torn away."

He stepped off the balcony.

Mira gasped, expecting him to plummet to the ground below. Instead, he descended as gently as a falling leaf, his feet touching the pristine lawn of the Duke's garden without a sound. He waited for her. Mira, her heart in her throat, used a rope to descend quickly and silently, her slum-honed skills serving her well.

They moved through the sculpted gardens like ghosts, Ravi's aura of imperceptibility extending to cover them both. They bypassed the heavily armed guards at the manor doors, who simply did not see them, their eyes sliding past as if they were empty air. They entered the grand manor, stepping into the world of the elite, two specters of judgment from the city's forgotten underbelly.

They found a secluded alcove overlooking the grand ballroom, shielded by a large tapestry. From here, they could see and hear everything. They watched as Duke Valerius raised a crystal goblet of wine.

"My friends!" the Duke announced, his voice booming with false sincerity. "A toast! To prosperity! To the strength of Veridia! And to the bright future we build together!"

The crowd echoed the toast, their laughter and applause filling the hall. At that moment, a servant whispered in the Duke's ear. He nodded, a cruel, satisfied smirk briefly touching his lips before being replaced by his usual charming smile. Seraphina Vayne, he had just been informed, had been found dead in a cheap boarding house, succumbed to a 'wasting sickness'. The last loose end of his conquest was tied. He felt untouchable.

It was at that moment Ravi chose to act.

He dropped the veil of imperceptibility.

One moment, the alcove was empty. The next, he was there, standing at the edge of the ballroom, in full view of everyone.

A sudden, localized silence fell around him as a few nearby nobles noticed the out-of-place figure. The man's simple, dark clothing was a stark contrast to their finery. But it was his eyes that truly captivated and unsettled them. They seemed to hold an ancient, chilling power that made them instinctively recoil.

"Who is that?" a noblewoman whispered, her fan pausing mid-flutter. "Is he a servant? He looks… menacing."

Ravi took a step forward, onto the polished marble floor of the ballroom. His every footstep seemed to echo with unnatural weight, a sound that began to cut through the music and chatter. One by one, heads began to turn. The music faltered as the musicians, sensing a shift in the atmosphere, trailed off. A wave of silence spread through the hall, radiating from Ravi's position.

The divine pressure, the 'Godly Aura' he had thus far kept tightly controlled, began to leak out. It started as a subtle chill, a feeling of being watched, then grew into a palpable weight, a suffocating presence that made the air feel thick and heavy. Jewels seemed to dim. Laughter died in throats. Guests shifted uncomfortably, a primal fear they couldn't name beginning to claw at their hearts.

Duke Valerius, annoyed at the interruption, turned. His eyes fell on Ravi. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice sharp with authority. "What is the meaning of this intrusion? Guards!"

Two of the Duke's personal guards, hulking men in ornate plate armor, moved to intercept Ravi.

"Remove this… filth from my hall," the Duke commanded, his lip curled in disgust.

The guards reached Ravi. The first laid a heavy, gauntleted hand on his shoulder.

The moment the guard's gauntlet touched Ravi's tunic, a visible arc of black-gold energy erupted. The guard screamed, a horrifying, piercing sound, as his body was violently thrown backward, as if struck by lightning. He crashed into a table laden with food and wine, sending crystal and silver scattering, before collapsing to the floor, smoke rising from his armor, his body convulsing.

The second guard, stunned, drew his sword. Before he could even raise it, Ravi's gaze snapped to him. The full, focused weight of his divine intent hit the man like a physical blow. The guard froze, his eyes widening in sheer terror. He dropped his sword with a clatter, his face went ashen, and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious before he even landed.

A wave of gasps and terrified screams swept through the ballroom. The guests surged back, creating a wide, empty circle around Ravi. This was no mere intruder. This was something else entirely.

Duke Valerius stared, his face a mask of disbelief and dawning fear. "What… what sorcery is this?"

Ravi ignored him, his cold, luminous gaze sweeping across the terrified faces of Veridia's elite.

"You live in a city of masks," Ravi's voice boomed, imbued with a divine resonance that filled every corner of the hall, vibrating in the bones of everyone present. "You cloak your rotten souls in silk and jewels. You feast and laugh while the foundations of your city crumble under the weight of your sins."

He took another step forward, the pressure intensifying. Nobles stumbled back, some of the women fainting, their pampered sensibilities overwhelmed by the raw, terrifying power.

"Tonight," Ravi declared, his eyes finally locking onto the Duke, "I have come to strip one of those masks away."

He raised a hand, pointing a finger at Duke Valerius. "Nicodemus Valerius!"

The Duke flinched as if struck.

"You stand before your peers as a pillar of society," Ravi's voice was like the grinding of tectonic plates. "But I see you for what you are. A murderer. A thief. A parasite who consumes the lives of others to fuel his own greed."

The Duke's face went pale. "Lies! Slander! Who are you to accuse me? I am Duke Valerius!"

"Your title is meaningless," Ravi stated, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper that carried to every ear. "I am the consequence of your actions. I am the judgment for the life of Lord Elias Vayne, whom you had murdered. I am the reckoning for his daughter, Seraphina, whose last breath was a curse upon your name."

From her hiding place, Mira watched, her heart pounding with a fierce, exultant beat. This was true power. Not just the brutal enforcement of order in a slum, but the public condemnation of the untouchable.

The assembled nobles stared, their minds reeling. The Vayne family's downfall? It was old news, a tragic but unremarkable footnote in the city's history. But to hear it laid bare as a crime, an assassination… and with such terrifying conviction…

Duke Valerius, his face slick with sweat, found a sliver of his old arrogance. "You are mad! A lunatic from the slums! Guards! Kill him! Kill him now!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with terror.

The remaining guards, though terrified, were bound by oaths and fear of their master. They drew their swords and began to close in, forming a hesitant circle around Ravi.

Ravi smiled. It was not a pleasant sight. It was the cold, predatory smile of a being about to unleash its true, terrible nature.

"You hide behind walls of steel and stone," Ravi said, his voice rising again. "But they cannot protect you from a god's decree."

The air around Ravi exploded with a blinding, golden light. A wave of pure, divine energy erupted from him, not as a killing blow, but as a concussive force of absolute authority. The charging guards were thrown back like dolls, their armor denting, their bodies slamming into the far walls of the ballroom with sickening crunches. The great crystal chandelier above trembled, raining down a shower of glittering shards. The guests screamed, cowering, shielding their eyes from the radiant, terrifying light.

When the light subsided, Ravi stood untouched in the center of the carnage. The floor around him was cracked and scorched.

He turned his glowing eyes upon the Duke, who now stood alone, trembling, his facade of power utterly shattered.

"Now, Nicodemus Valerius," Ravi said, his voice dropping back to that terrifyingly calm tone. "Your judgment is at hand. And your peers… they will serve as witness."

He began to walk slowly towards the terrified Duke, each step an inexorable march of doom. The high society of Veridia could only watch in abject horror as the Slum God, unveiled in all his terrifying glory, prepared to deliver a brutal, public sentence upon one of their own. The city of masks was about to see the true face of divine retribution.