The Scum Emperor's Redemption System - Chapter 159

Chapter 159: Dead Courtroom
[Warning: What you are reading is an old content from the older drafts. All of volume 2 will be edited.]

The courtroom was dead silent.

For a moment, it felt like the entire cosmos had collectively forgotten how to breathe. Reality itself seemed to hesitate, as if unsure how to proceed after the ancient deity casually dropped a revelation of such absurd magnitude.

Argider, still glowing like an unstable divine firecracker, stared blankly at the old god who had just shattered whatever semblance of logic she had left. “Okay, cool. Love that for me. But, uh… what does that actually mean?”

Cue an extremely unhelpful response:

“It means exactly what it sounds like.”

The Ancient Deity of Order and Correction groaned so loudly it echoed through multiple dimensions. “You are NOT helping.”

Meanwhile, the gods in attendance reacted with wildly different levels of decorum.

The God of Chaos burst into uncontrollable laughter, doubling over and wheezing. “Oh, this is delicious. Someone start taking bets! Maybe she’s an eldritch accident! A rogue fragment of creation! A divine loophole!”

The Trickster God casually tossed popcorn into a swirling void, watching the spectacle unfold with the glee of someone witnessing peak entertainment.

The Goddess of Forbidden Knowledge was already inching toward Argider, eyes gleaming with unsettling curiosity. “Fascinating… let me dissect you.”

The God of Beauty and Indulgence suddenly took a far more intense interest, adjusting their silk robes and murmuring, “Well, if she wasn’t meant to exist, perhaps she’s something… unique. Exotic. A rare celestial specimen worthy of admiration—”

Then came the fanservice.

Argider, still struggling to process her impending existential crisis, unknowingly began radiating an uncontrollable divine aura, her unstable power manifesting as golden, shimmering mist. And, of course, the mist did not behave like a normal, reasonable mist.

No, it clung.

It clung to bare skin, highlighting every defined feature with an ethereal glow. It settled in waves of soft light, making everyone in the courtroom—especially her wives—look devastatingly divine.

Esmeralda, standing amidst the glow, looked utterly untouchable, her sharp, furious expression softened only by the golden wisps swirling around her like a halo of battle-worn beauty.

Faeralys, usually composed and untouchable, was suddenly disheveled, her half-exposed robes fluttering dramatically after a small divine explosion sent her stumbling back. Her breathing was noticeably heavier as she struggled to retain her sanity.

Fialova? She was reclining, the very picture of smug seduction, swirling a glass of celestial wine she had absolutely stolen from somewhere.

And then there was Argider herself.

Her divine power, entirely unpredictable, had decided that fabric was optional. Her once-pristine robes were now strategically shredded in just the right places—her golden radiance illuminating every inch of skin left bare, her entire form exuding an untouchable, celestial allure.

Cue absolute chaos.

Esmeralda, whose entire existence was built upon discipline and control, was actively fighting the urge to either scold Argider or pin her against the nearest cosmic surface.

Faeralys had abandoned all dignity, covering her face and muttering frantic calculations on whether or not survival against this level of attractiveness was even possible.

Fialova? She simply took another sip of her wine and smirked. “Oh no. She’s hot.”

Meanwhile, the courtroom itself was not faring much better. The divine jury was in disarray. Some gods were fanning themselves, others were reevaluating their entire belief systems, and the Trickster God had started live-streaming the event, because of course they had.

Argider, entirely overwhelmed, held up a glowing hand and groaned. “Okay, enough. Can we all focus? Preferably not on my shredded divine wardrobe?”

She turned back to the ancient deity who had started this whole mess. “Explain. Now. Why the hell wasn’t I supposed to exist?”

The deity sighed deeply, rubbing their temples. “Argider, you were never meant to exist because… you were not created by any god. No divine being, no cosmic force—nothing made you.”

The courtroom erupted into pandemonium.

Gasps. Shouts. Even the void itself seemed to shudder at the implication. Deities scrambled for answers, theories spun out of control, and somewhere in the background, the God of Chaos cheered, “I knew it! She’s a cosmic accident!”

Argider, still glowing like an untouchable celestial goddess, stared at them all and groaned. “This is the worst identity crisis ever.”

The Ancient Deity of Order and Correction was already preparing for a massive headache. “You cannot be a mistake. That would defy the very foundation of divine law.”

“Well, that’s funny,” Argider shot back, “because you just said I wasn’t made by anyone, so who’s defying divine law now?”

Silence.

Several gods exchanged looks, realizing they were now dealing with something completely outside of their understanding.

The God of Beauty and Indulgence, still recovering from the divine fanservice, sighed dramatically. “Well, if she’s not a mistake… then what is she?”

A new, more chilling voice echoed through the courtroom.

“Something we failed to account for.”

The room darkened.

A presence, ancient beyond comprehension, stirred within the chamber—a deity who had remained silent until now. One of the oldest beings in existence, one who had been there before the creation of the divine order.

Their form flickered between shapes, their voice layered with countless echoes. “Argider is not a creation. She is an anomaly. Something that was never meant to be, yet persists. She is not bound by the divine laws because she was never written into them.”

The weight of their words sent another ripple through reality itself. Gods who had once been smugly confident in their power now looked uneasy.

Argider, however, had reached the peak of her patience. She threw her arms in the air. “Okay, great! I’m a cosmic glitch! Love that. Fantastic. But what the hell am I supposed to do with that information?”

The ancient deity regarded her carefully. “That… is for you to decide. But beware—if you were not meant to exist, then it stands to reason that something will eventually try to correct that.”

A chilling pause settled over the courtroom.

The realization hit Argider like a celestial freight train. If she truly wasn’t meant to exist, then something—or someone—would want to erase her. Permanently.

And they were probably already watching.

The chapter ended with the courtroom’s lights flickering, an unseen force shifting in the void, and Argider muttering under her breath:

“…Yeah, okay, but can I at least get a new shirt first?”

The courtroom stills.

The gods, once rowdy and indulgent, now hold their breath. Even the Ancient Deity of Order and Correction, who had been ranting mere moments ago, falls into a rare, uneasy silence.

Argider, still glowing like an unstable celestial storm, half-dressed in divine remnants, meets the gaze of the newcomer and—

Something breaks.

Not in the room. Not in the fabric of reality.

But in her.

The figure, wreathed in an aura of something far older than the gods themselves, takes a single step forward. Argider feels a pull—not physical, not magical, but something more fundamental. Like gravity shifting toward an undeniable center.

She clenches her fists, teeth gritting as she fights against the instinctive reaction in her bones, her very soul.

“Who are you?” she demands, voice steady despite the chaos inside her.

The figure chuckles, a deep, velvety sound that seems to vibrate through existence itself. “Oh, Argider,” they murmur, almost fondly. “Still so blind to your own nature.”

Argider’s breath catches.

She doesn’t like that tone. It’s knowing. Expectant. Familiar in a way that makes her stomach churn.

The Ancient Deity of Order and Correction finally moves, stepping between them with clear reluctance. “You,” they say, voice low and filled with something dangerously close to concern. “You were not summoned. You shouldn’t be here.”

The figure merely lifts a hand, as if dismissing a petulant child. “And yet, here I am.” Their gaze shifts back to Argider. “I came for her. Did you truly think I wouldn’t?”

Something in the air tightens. The gods around them, powerful celestial beings who had been mocking and toying with Argider moments ago, are suddenly wary. Afraid.

Argider forces herself to stay upright, forces herself not to give in to the instinct screaming at her to remember. To understand.

The figure studies her, eyes glinting with an amused curiosity. “You weren’t meant to exist?” they repeat, lips curling in something almost like pity. “Who told you that lie?”

The Ancient Deity stiffens. “Stay out of this. She is an anomaly, nothing more.”

“Oh?” The figure tilts their head. “Is that what you tell yourself? Or is it what you hoped she was?”

Argider feels like she’s standing on the edge of something vast and unknowable.

The figure’s presence is not divine in the way the others are. It is not cosmic in the way reality itself bends to gods.

It is something older. Something outside of the structure the gods have built. Something that should not exist… yet does.

Just like her.

“I don’t—” Argider starts, but the figure lifts a hand.

Not to silence her.

To reach for her.

The moment their fingers so much as brush the golden mist surrounding her, reality shatters.

The courtroom vanishes.

The gods disappear.

Argider falls—

Not down.

Not up.

Just—

Away.

Colors she cannot name streak past her. Visions she does not understand flicker through the void.

She sees hands, reaching. Voices, calling. A crown, golden and dripping with something thick and black. A throne, empty yet waiting.

She sees herself—but not as she is now. Not as she ever remembers being.

A figure wrapped in starfire, eyes burning with something no god has ever seen.