Chapter 998: The Senior

To be honest, Cassandra nearly peed herself.

Fortunately, witches don’t need to relieve themselves, and the Black Judge’s aura didn’t last long—the terrifying, unknown darkness quickly receded.

When the terrifying darkness finally vanished before her eyes and the surrounding scenery reappeared, the werewolf young lady gripped her trembling legs and gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to collapse onto the floor right there.

Fortunately, she wasn’t the only one humiliated; Cassandra noticed even the senior figures at the front of the line, clad in Grand Inquisitor robes, seemed shaken—her own mother, for instance, was drenched in sweat and barely standing, until the Eight-Foot Aunt lent her a hand.

She knew her mother’s strength well; though her direct combat power couldn’t match the Fourth Aunt’s, she was still among the elite of the upper peak, yet now she was terrified into this state by a single glance from the Black Judge.

At that moment, Cassandra truly felt awe and curiosity toward this mysterious figure.

This was unquestionably a Sage-level existence—and not just any Sage-level.

Yet while some faltered, others excelled.

Like the Fourth Aunt, or the Eight-Foot Aunt, for instance.

But since both were Grand Inquisitors, that wasn’t surprising; what truly dampened Cassandra’s spirits was that among those present were several witches dressed in ordinary Inquisitor battle robes, just like her—and from the aura she sensed, these future colleagues were roughly equal in strength to her, yet while she was nearly terrified into urinating, several of them displayed remarkable composure.

Like the one wearing a skull mask, the one wearing a demonic demon mask, or the one wearing a Holy Knight mask.

Though these three Inquisitors’ auras were slightly disordered, they stabilized quickly.

Especially the one wearing the Holy Knight mask—she even unleashed a startling surge of battle intent.

The others nearby, though slightly less composed, quickly recovered, each regaining control far faster than she had.

This sight made Cassandra’s face darken slightly.

She had always been confident in her talent, believing herself among the top few of her peers in Night City—but now, upon entering the Inquisition Court, she realized her performance was pitiful, shattering years of pride into dust.

Fortunately, the werewolf young lady wasn’t the type to crumble under defeat; she quietly pinched her thigh hard, using the pain to forcibly rally herself.

Hmm, she would learn well from these seniors; she wouldn’t remain at the bottom forever.

“Excellent. That you can remain composed under my Authority is proof of your rare talent. I have a mission to assign—does anyone have interest?”

At that moment, the Black Judge’s cold voice sounded again.

Cassandra, as a clueless newcomer, was confused, but the werewolf young lady could clearly sense that upon those words, everyone in the room perked up, eyes gleaming like a pack of starving wolves emerging from darkness.

The Inquisitors couldn’t help but be excited; though the Underworld Faction was still in its infancy, from the last raid on the Thirteen Vampire Clans, it was clear the Black Judge Grand Inquisitor was truly generous—she actually gave out points.

Inquisition Court merit points were as rare as Magic Net Library credits, far exceeding gold yuan, and could be exchanged for countless treasures unavailable elsewhere—extremely valuable, even Grand Inquisitors were desperate for them.

Dozens of Grand Inquisitors had been summoned today—twenty or thirty, all veterans of the last vampire raid—and after tasting the rewards last time, hearing the Black Judge Grand Inquisitor had another mission instantly ignited their fervor; they longed to prove loyalty and beg for a slot.

Of course, this wasn’t because they lacked dignity or self-restraint—it wasn’t their knees that were weak. They’d all heard clearly: the Black Judge had just said “Authority.”

That was Authority—the supreme power beyond forbidden spells.

Most Grand Inquisitors were peak witches, many still learning forbidden spells, still struggling to grasp eleventh- or twelfth-tier ones, let alone Authority.

Authority was a power only Sages could begin to explore; indeed, whether one could awaken Authority was the true standard distinguishing Sages from peak witches.

Many upper peak witches had long surpassed the 900,000 Mana standard, mastered all nine schools, and possessed profound knowledge—but they remained stuck at the Sage trial, unable to awaken their own Authority.

Since the birth of witches, roughly 130,000 years have passed; in this long span, the number of top-tier peak witches has never been small—on average, about a hundred peak witches emerged per millennium, per generation.

Over these centuries, the total number of peak witches in the witch world was truly substantial; though only two or three hundred of the youngest were active, if you counted retired and reclusive ones, there were easily tens of thousands.

But for many witches, peak was already the end of their journey, for until peak, one could still advance through accumulation and effort—in theory, as long as one lived long enough and patiently studied magic, every Grand Witch had a chance to reach upper peak, merely a matter of time.

But the Sage threshold was a true abyss.

Among those tens of thousands of peaks, roughly four to five thousand upper peaks qualified for the Sage trial—older, more ancient peaks almost always reached upper peak, and peak witches had resurrection techniques, making death nearly impossible; thus, barring accidents, this number would only rise over time.

Yet despite such a vast pool of applicants, the total number of witches who had ever become Sages remained under a hundred.

This revealed just how difficult Authority was to awaken.

Everyone had heard Authority had tiers—like the God-King’s Fate Authority, the Dragon King’s Heart of Heaven Authority, the Demon King’s Original Sin and Pact Authority—all supreme-tier Authorities.

Elemental Authorities like earth, fire, water, wind, and lightning were far more common and lower-tier.

Of course, even the lowest Authority was still Authority—utterly overwhelming against non-Sages—but among Sages themselves, hierarchy existed; awakening a higher-tier Authority typically meant greater power.

It was said that among Sages, strength no longer depended solely on mana levels or spell intensity, but primarily on Authority tier and resonance; beings like the Three Kings, who awakened transcendent Authorities early, became nearly invincible the moment they ascended to Sage.

All present Grand Inquisitors were undeniably geniuses among geniuses—they weren’t like those old fools who reached peak through mere longevity; most were young, under ten thousand years old, yet even so, few dared guarantee they’d ever awaken Authority.

And that’s even less likely for a higher-tier Authority—even a common elemental Authority would satisfy them.

But the Black Judge’s glance just now was clearly no ordinary lower-tier Authority—what did that mean?

It meant the Black Judge was a powerhouse even among Sages.

If they could earn the Black Judge’s favor, receive even a hint of guidance, they’d avoid countless dead ends when awakening their own Authority.

So this wasn’t about the mission points—they feigned hunger for points, but their true craving was the Black Judge herself.

They joined the Inquisition Court not purely for justice, but for their own future advancement.

Though Inquisitors usually inherited their positions, most original Inquisitors came from humble backgrounds; even now, they weren’t aristocratic heirs—families without a single Sage couldn’t be called true aristocracy.

For witches of average birth but exceptional talent, the best path was to pass the civil service exam and climb upward—and the Inquisition Court was among the most desirable institutions.

In other departments, you’d have to climb to the very top just to eavesdrop on a Sage council and possibly receive a few words of advice—but here, Grand Inquisitors were usually Sages themselves; becoming a Grand Inquisitor meant direct access to them.

Yet even Sages had preferences—they weren’t truly omniscient, so they couldn’t easily guide everyone; even Pan Shen, the oldest and strongest of the three Grand Inquisitors, knew many things he couldn’t explain.

Thus, some unlucky witches with rare or obscure powers remained without proper guidance.

They’d thought they’d have to stumble forward alone—but then the Inquisition expanded, the Underworld Faction was added, and a new Black Judge Grand Inquisitor appeared, reigniting hope in many.

Logically, they knew this Black Judge probably wasn’t stronger or wiser than Pan Shen—but what if?

Hmm, hope was better than none.

Hence, many Grand Inquisitors now eagerly considered transferring to the Underworld Faction.

Unfortunately, the last vampire raid, though issued by the Black Judge, was led by the Joker—now, at last, they’d seen the new Grand Inquisitor’s true form.

Hmm, this time they must perform excellently, earn a familiar face before the master.

Everyone thought this in their hearts.

Of course, Dorothy saw every expression in the room; beneath her mask, her lips curled slightly.

Good. The fish have bitten.

She hadn’t come here just to show off—she was here to find reliable allies.

These Grand Inquisitors were indeed forces worth recruiting, but they were strangers; she needed to win their hearts first, lest they later obey orders but not commands.

Winning hearts was simple: the carrot and stick method.

The earlier glance was the initial intimidation—to demonstrate the Black Judge’s power and earn awe; her mention of Authority was bait, drawing the fish closer.

But the senior was truly useful.

Dorothy sighed inwardly.

Just now, her glance had merely been an attempt to test her newly acquired Dragon Emperor’s Eye.

High-grade demon eyes didn’t just enhance the body—they transformed the soul’s eye too; thus, even though the house witch’s consciousness had merely inhabited the senior’s body, she could still wield part of the Dragon Emperor’s Eye’s power.

But what surprised her was that Senior Fan Ni also possessed a demon eye.

The Nightmare Eye.

Though the name sounded ordinary, its power rivaled her newly acquired Dragon Emperor’s Eye—it was also a half-Crystal Jade-level demon eye.

What surprised both was that when they merged, their two demon eyes fused as well—one horizontal, one vertical, forming a strange, sinister cross-pupil.

The Emperor of Darkness's Eye—since it was a new demonic eye born from fusion, they temporarily named this new Crystal Jade-level demonic eye thus.

It was a genuine Divine Eye.

As for its ability, it was surprisingly plain.

The Dragon Emperor’s Eye’s power was to condense Dragon Aura through higher rank, unleashing an unmatched, tyrannical presence—stare and they kneel.

Fan Ni the senior’s Nightmare Eye matched her Authority perfectly—Dream Realm and Fear—she could make one fall into a dream and awaken their deepest terror within it.

Both were control-type demonic eyes, but after fusing, this new Emperor of Darkness's Eye became far more tyrannical.

The true strength of the Dragon Emperor’s Eye wasn’t the Dragon Aura—it was its ability to convert its own rank into power, enhancing the master’s essence.

Since it was originally a dragon’s eye, this rank manifested as enhanced Dragon Aura.

But now, using Fan Ni’s body, which lacked Dragon Aura, the ability instead enhanced something else.

The witch’s essence was Dream and Fear—or rather, Death.

Thus, the newly born Emperor of Darkness's Eye possessed a single glance: life and death. (Hmm, Lucifer, who was stared to death, has something to say.)

Hmm, death is eternal slumber, the longest dream; death is fear, the deepest, most hopeless fear.

Dorothy’s Saint rank transformed into power, strengthening Fan Ni’s Authority, causing this Divine Eye—something Fan Ni might only awaken upon ascending to godhood—to emerge prematurely, even enhanced.

Normally, if Fan Ni’s essence evolved naturally, her Nightmare Eye would eventually become the Death King’s Eye, representing Finality and Death’s Authority—stare and they die.

But now, the Emperor of Darkness's Eye could not only kill, but also revive.

Everyone knew rebuilding was harder than destruction—killing one was easy, reviving one was difficult.

Thus, the Emperor of Darkness's Eye's rank surpassed the Death King's Eye that Fan Ni was destined to awaken.

Of course, neither Dorothy nor Fan Ni knew this—they both simply marveled at the eye’s power.

Though also Crystal Jade-level, this Emperor of Darkness's Eye was far less miraculous than the other two: Sophilia’s Fate Eye could control fate, Arti’s Truth Eye could deconstruct all things; compared to these two with maximized auxiliary abilities, the Emperor of Darkness's Eye’s mastery over life and death seemed crude and blunt.

But precisely because it was simple, it was pure; and precisely because it was pure, it was powerful.

Just now, when everyone’s vision went black, it wasn’t a dream or illusion—it was because they had all genuinely experienced death.

The dead naturally see darkness.

Moreover, their souls couldn’t be protected by the Underworld Bureau—they were directly swallowed into the Demon’s Dream, for the Underworld Bureau was merely a temporary, false Underworld, while the future Death King’s dream was the true Underworld.

But such a terrifying truth? Better not tell them. Dorothy thought, then decided to offer another “sweet treat.”

“Ladies, this mission is highly unusual and top-secret, so I won’t reward you with merit points—that would leave traces. Instead, I’ll let you personally experience the sensation of Authority.”

She said this.

Then added one last line.

"Any power will do; I have some knowledge of powers."

...Thus spoke the Law-Through-Word...