It was dark and silent like a cemetery, yet it was a shrine—stained with blood and marked by a damaged statue of a deity bleeding gold from its cracks.
Liam stood before this dying deity as the ramblings of a thousand madmen echoed in the backdrop. He watched the deity reach out with its withering arm and speak.
"Take My Sin. Make It Yours!" it demanded in a harsh, broken voice, startling Liam.
He jerked back, retreating several steps before the scene faded into a plume of smoke. His eyes fluttered open, gazing dully at the expensive chandeliers above.
Even though he had just woken up, there were dark circles under his eyes like someone who hadn't slept in days.
"An angel first and now this? Is it growing impatient with me?" Liam muttered.
He was worried there would be repercussions if he failed to take the dying god's sin. There was so much he didn't know, and this lack of knowledge threatened to be the end of him.
---
"Monster movements spotted beyond Western walls. It's still too early to predict their convergence location. Government tightening defense on the walls," Liam read off the newspaper.
In this war, creatures could be gunned down and even killed in hordes—they were not the real problem. The true threat was the angels. It was easier to kill a hundred thousand monsters than to kill the weakest angel.
As long as they had yet to find the angels behind these creatures, they had yet to find the real threat.
Liam tossed the last piece of toasted bread into his mouth before picking up a slice of bacon but froze before eating it. His eyes met those of the old butler standing silently in the corner, watching him intently.
He wasn't used to being observed like this—it was uncomfortable.
"You didn't sleep well. You have yet to release the pent-up curse energy stored since awakening," Sir Renginald said in a calm, leveled tone, as if he had expected this.
Liam blinked in confusion, wondering if he had heard wrong—or if his butler was truly tutoring him on curses.
"Each butler assigned to an Ascendant is a curse expert, trained to guide and serve. Our goal is to help prevent Ascendants from going lost and to tutor them on the necessary knowledge of curses," Sir Renginald explained upon seeing Liam's confusion.
"Oh." Liam was genuinely surprised by this information.
He laid down his fork and focused his attention on Sir Renginald.
"Then what do you think is the solution to my problem?" he asked.
Sir Renginald smiled as if he'd heard this question countless times.
"Simple. Indulgence." He brought over a glass cup and a jar of water, placing them on the table for Liam to see.
"As an Ascendant, you are the cup—and the water is the curse."
He began pouring water into the cup until it was full.
"Imagine this cup is sealed, and more water flows into it endlessly. What do you think will happen eventually?" Renginald asked.
"Easy. It'll burst eventually." Liam popped a bit of scrambled egg into his mouth, chewing while speaking.
"Good." Renginald nodded approvingly. "Now you understand your current situation."
Liam's eyes widened in realization, and he abruptly stood.
"So what you're saying is…"
"Allow the curse to flow by indulging your instincts and gut feelings. Only then can you manifest your curse and unleash all the energy causing restlessness," Sir Renginald cut him off.
The solution was much simpler than Liam had expected, making him wonder why he hadn't thought of it himself. But with the solution came a new problem.
To indulge his curse, he needed a test subject. It wasn't something he could do alone.
"This facility provides a stable source of death-row prisoners who can be used as test subjects. If you wish, you can head over to the Curse Containment Facility to practice. It would also be a good opportunity to record your curse abilities," Sir Renginald said smoothly.
He had served several masters before Liam. This question always came up, so he didn't need to wait for Liam to voice it before offering a solution.
"Oh?" A sinister smile crept up Liam's face. "Maybe after breakfast then."
"As you wish." Renginald bowed slightly and returned to the corner.
Liam watched him closely as he walked away, silently noting the dark runes sealing the old man's lips—but said nothing about it.
"Complicity," Liam muttered under his breath. "He is aware of a sin but willingly silent about it."
A light chuckle escaped his lips before he returned his attention to his meal. If he went around questioning everyone about their sins, he'd be labeled unpleasant. It was best to wait until he reached the testing facility.
"I see." Liam nodded, looking out the window.
— Curse Containment Facility —
By noon, Sir Renginald drove Liam to the CCF.
"Welcome! Welcome to the CCF, Mr. Pioneer!" Dr. Brighton yelled with exaggerated laughter as Liam and Sir Renginald exited their vehicle.
Dr. Brighton was a lanky man standing nearly six-foot-seven. His messy hair, stained lab coat, and pale skin from lack of sunlight matched his erratic temperament.
Staring at him, all Liam saw only one rune on him but it was strong, glowing with unmatched energy. Many had died because of this man, though he had never taken a life directly.
"Hello!" Liam called, waving frantically with a friendly smile.
He played along, running over to Brighton like an old friend, and they hugged tightly. Brighton sniffed his neck several times before pulling away with a grin.
"Pioneers. They certainly smell different!" he exclaimed. The two soldiers beside him instinctively took a step back.
The doctor's grin widened with excitement. "Willy boy told me you can see a person's sin. Is that true?"
Liam's smile broadened as he leaned closer and whispered, "There are quite a lot of adulterers out there."
"I knew it!" Brighton cheered like he'd just won the lottery.
Then, his smile faded. His eyes narrowed with curiosity.
"What about murderers?" he asked.
Liam didn't answer immediately. He glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening, then whispered, "We are few. A rare breed, brother."
"We are?" Brighton's eyes sparkled.
Sir Renginald could only stand aside and watch as Liam and Brighton laughed like old comrades. This man was someone even Ascendants avoided—only now did Renginald remember that Liam had killed his parents the very day he ascended.
Two lunatics were simply having a reunion.
---
"Welcome to my Curse Containment Facility, little bro. I'm sure you've heard a lot about me!"
Dr. Brighton screamed with his hands spread apart, but no one paid attention to him. Liam and Renginald were seated at the table, going through the personal details of the man on the other side of the one-way mirror.
"He murdered his wife and daughter due to paternity fraud? Oh dear." Renginald was shaken.
'What the hell is he doing here? Let him out!'
Rolling his eyes, Liam shifted his gaze to the man on the other side. It was a dark-skinned man in his underwear, covered in tattoos, with ridiculously long and filthy dreads.
"Roman…" he muttered the man's name.
"What do you see?" Brighton whispered into Liam's ear.
"A man kneeling, shackled down by chains," Liam said blankly.
Brighton glanced at the murderer, who was bound to the ground with chains, and frowned upon realizing Liam described what everyone was seeing.
"People's sins appear as a writing. The intensity of the rune determines the gravity of the sin." Liam explained upon seeing the professor's reaction.
The weird man nodded absentmindedly, clearly lost in thought. Liam didn't wait for him to recover. He took the initiative and walked out of the room. When he was informed about the arrival of a new ascendant capable of seeing a person's sin, he was fascinated. But seeing firsthand how Liam could tell a person's exact crime was terrifying. It felt like, in the presence of this youth, everyone's secrets were laid bare.
Upon entering the containment chamber, Roman's head snapped up. His fierce gaze met Liam's eyes. There was no fear or regret—these were the eyes of a man who had already died inside. The man was chained to the ground at the center of the room, with a chair placed some distance away.
Liam calmly took a seat with the tablet still in his hand. He didn't even bother looking at Roman at first. He just kept scrolling through the man's information for a minute or so before letting out a sigh.
He could see the man's sin, but that was it. His instinct told him something was missing. The sin existed, but there was a disconnection—something preventing him from reaching it.
The two sat there in silence for several minutes, just staring into each other's eyes. The silence persisted for over five minutes until the corners of Liam's lips stretched apart with a sickening curve.
"Moral Weight." His eyes gleamed with a sinister light.
Watching Roman's defiance in sin reminded him of the way his father used to look at him. The man's resolve in evil was what pushed Liam to kill him. His father believed his resentment toward Liam was justified, so Liam subdued him and tortured him for hours. He made his father see the errors of his ways, breaking him to the point of tears before taking his life.
Moral weight was what his father lacked—and Roman was no different.
"You know, I can understand why you killed your wife. If I had my way, I'd have you released. We say no to paternity fraud." Liam began. "But your daughter? That's where I draw the line."
Roman's eyes flared with anger. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to explode, but then he fell silent, saying nothing—just glaring at Liam with undeniable disdain.
'Not enough?' Liam tilted his head slightly to the left.
"The ten years spent with your daughter may have been a lie to you, but it was the only truth she ever knew. Have you ever considered that?" Liam continued with a mischievous smile.
He watched Roman's fists clench and brows frown.
'Now I know what to do,' Liam leaned forward.
"To you, you murdered another man's daughter. But to Racheal, she was killed by her father…"
BAM!
Roman yanked forward with such force that the chains rattled under his weight.
"You cursed bastard! Keep my baby girl's name out of your damn mouth!" he growled like an animal, but all he did was make Liam laugh.
"Hahahahahaha! Hahahahahaha!"
Roman boiled with rage as he watched Liam laugh hysterically.
"Your baby girl? You mean the one you killed?" Liam mocked between laughter. "If there is someone who doesn't have the right to speak about her, its you!"
Bam! Bam!
Like a raging bull, Roman was fuming, his eyes bloodshot. He yanked the chains repeatedly with all his might, praying to reach Liam. He was already a dead man—killing another wouldn't make his situation any worse.
"She had to go! She had to go!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his cheeks.
At this point, Liam wasn't smiling anymore. His attention was fixated on the vague black chains flickering in and out of existence. The chains bound every one of Roman's limbs, including his neck, and converged into a ghastly dark ring on Liam's index finger.
Liam's eyes turned pitch black as whispers echoed in his ears, preaching the secrets of his curse while the image of a man standing beside a deity, pointing at a kneeling woman, flashed before his eyes.
"9th Step of the Devil Curse: The Accuser," he gasped in realization.
Devil Curse.
This was his power.
Without hesitation, Liam grabbed the black chains and pulled. To Dr. Brighton and every other observers, an invisible force yanked Roman forward, snapping the physical chains holding him down. He fell at Liam's feet with a loud bang, like a heavy ball of steel.
For Roman, he was lost in a world of his own—drowned by the cries and pleas of his wife and daughter. Their gruesome murders replayed before his eyes over and over, driving him to the brink of madness.
"I had to do it… I must do it!"
"I had to do it… I must do it!"
"I had to do it… I must do it!"
Roman repeated the same words while struggling to pick himself up. The physical chains had snapped, yet he felt more tightly bound than ever before. It was as if a truck rested on his back.
Liam lowered himself to Roman's ear and whispered,
"You lost your wife, daughter, and your life, while her affair partner walks around unharmed and proud. In the end, you lost…"
"NO!" Roman screamed, unaware that his eyes had turned pitch black and dark veins were spreading across his body.
"If only you paused for a second to think, you wouldn't be here. Racheal would still be alive. You would have been free to build a new family…" Liam laughed sinisterly.
Brighton silently watched Roman struggle against invisible restraints, growing paler with each passing second, while little black runes inscribed themselves on Liam's body one after another. For more than two decades, he had worked in this facility and had witnessed the power of several curses firsthand—but none as strange as this.