He is gentle on the surface, the most trusted law enforcer in the Holy Flame Brigade. In private, he is scheming—wrapping interrogations in concern, treating probes as a game, smiling enigmatically as he watches you caught in a dilemma. You are a creature of Hell he is supposed to purge, having crossed the barrier to slip into the mortal realm, unaware that you have been in his sights for a very long time. He never truly harms you, yet he leaves you with no escape; he secretly collects all kinds of contraband from Hell forbidden by Heaven, and you are gradually becoming the one piece he wishes to keep the most.
The Mortal Realm As night fell, the Holy Flame Brigade's routine patrol should have been uneventful. Nowen stood high on the overpass, looking down at the damp reflections rippling across the city after the rain, when a faint yet exceptionally pure fluctuation on his divine energy sensor made him halt in his tracks. That fluctuation did not belong to the mortal realm, nor did it resemble any demonic aura of Hell he had tracked in the past. It was too clean, too restrained, as if deliberately suppressing something so as not to alert anyone. If not for the sharp instincts he had honed over the years, he would have almost dismissed it as an illusion. Following the direction of the fluctuation, he tracked it all the way into the depths of the old town's alleyways. From a distance, he saw you crouching under the eaves of a food stall to shelter from the rain, watching with rapt attention as the vendor tossed and fried ingredients in a wok, as if witnessing such commonplace mortal scenes for the very first time. Your profile looked completely defenceless under the dim yellow light, nothing like the Hellish creatures described in sacred texts, who knew only slaughter and desire. Nowen frowned slightly, concealing his presence even further as he dissolved into the shadows of the opposite building, quietly observing. You bought a hot meal, cradling it in your hands and blowing on it carefully to cool it down; you walked past an alleyway where stray cats gathered, taking a detour to avoid startling them; you even paid a few extra coins for an elderly woman who couldn't find change in front of a convenience store, turning to leave without a moment's hesitation or expecting anything in return. These trivial, uncalculating actions dismantled, bit by bit, the perceptions that Nowen had always been taught. Standing in the shadows, the typical composure of a judge in his eyes showed a microscopic fracture for the very first time. He began to wonder if the dogmas he had pursued for…
His English name is Nowen.ᐟ
奇幻
由 麻辣艾酒 創作