Zeph looked around and saw many lines of souls standing there; the sky was gray with a light fog surrounding them.
However, his eyes showed no interest whatsoever, and he still felt as hollow as he had before death. Slowly walking forward with the line, he arrived at a massive castle. The time it took him to reach there was unknown to him.
Then suddenly, a bulky man with dark wings, floating above the ground with his face covered by a black cloth, hit him with a whip and said, "Pay attention to the judge." Zeph looked ahead and saw a man sitting in front of him, an aura of arrogance oozing from him.
The judge looked at him with disgust and announced, "You have committed murder, torture, and also killed the families of your victims, among other multiple crimes. You will go to hell for 100 years, and afterward, you will be reincarnated into the body of a peasant with your memories erased."
The judge smiled, looking up while anticipating the expression this soul would make and how it would beg for forgiveness like others had done before. However, he was wrong. The soul of this lowly man from a lower-level world didn't even react to his words, which made him angry. Seeing the anger in the judge's eyes, the flying man glanced pitifully at Zeph.
The judge seethed, "It looks like this punishment isn't enough for you. In that case, you'll go to hell for a hundred thousand years! I also give you the curse of eidetic memory; you will not forget anything that happened in your life and will remember it like it was yesterday you were born. With this, you will never forget the torture of hell, spending every moment in agony."
Zeph looked up, still without asking for any forgiveness, making the judge even angrier. But then, a cruel smile spread across the judge's face as he spoke to the guard, "Take this peasant to the lowest level of hell. There, he will spend his time in repentance." The guard was shocked, as it was the most painful level of hell.
However, not wanting to anger the judge, he didn't say anything and hurried Zeph toward the lower level. After he left, another flying man came to take his place.
Even after hearing the judge and fully knowing how painfully he would live in the future, Zeph showed no signs of emotion.
A while ago, when he first saw the judge, he had thought of asking about his family, but upon hearing his judgment, he lost the last speck of hope he held. After getting out of the castle, the flying man tore space open with his whip and dragged Zeph inside by his hair.
When Zeph opened his eyes, he was standing in front of a massive gate where a truly ancient man stood waiting.
The flying guard threw him down and then bowed to the old man with as much respect as he could muster, saying, "Your Majesty, the Protector, this soul is sentenced to one hundred thousand years in the lowest level of hell with the curse of eidetic memory, by judge number one thousand of the vicinity of lower worlds." Hearing this, the old man opened his eyes and looked at Zeph.
When he saw his hollow, emotionless eyes, a slight, terrifying smile appeared on his face. The old man raised his hand, causing the gate to open slightly, and suddenly, Zeph was sucked through the door. The old man thought to himself, "Let's see how long this child can survive until his soul is destroyed and he's unable to even reincarnate."
After opening his eyes, Zeph felt the most soul-writhing pain that could not be described in words alone. He was burning in the hottest fire, which changed its color to white due to the unimaginable heat, then freezing in the coldest place imaginable, alongside multiple other tortures.
He could not die, and he could not forget. Because of his eidetic memory, even the pain of losing his family members couldn't get out of his mind. Then, it happened.
After a hundred years, of which he painfully remembered every single moment, his soul slowly started chipping away from his toes. This process was ten times more painful than burning in the fire.
After a thousand years, Zeph started going mad—cursing, crying, and begging, but to no avail. He looked down and saw he no longer had legs; his soul was now slowly chipping away from his thighs.
After ten thousand years, all that was left of Zeph's soul was his head. He thought, "One thousand and two hundred years… that's all the time I have left here." He had already calculated his demise.
At this point, a normal human being would have lost all capacity to think, but he was different; due to his eidetic memory, he couldn't forget anything. While still in agony, he thought, "Hahh… I want to die so bad. Just a little more wait, a little more." Zeph was broken. He had been through so much that his will had shattered.
He no longer wanted to see his family, nor did he desire revenge against the arrogant judge who put him here. He simply wanted to die completely.
After another twelve hundred years, he was so happy that if he had a body, he would be crying tears of joy in his hellhole. Finally, today was the day his last chip of soul would be destroyed, and he would be able to die.
Zeph slowly opened his eyes, feeling distorted. He looked up at an unfamiliar ceiling, and a thought struck him. 'What the… haven't I died? Where… where am I?' Looking around, he found himself on a king-sized bed in a luxurious room. Suddenly, a piercing headache made him writhe in pain.
He clutched his bandaged head as unfamiliar memories flooded his mind—memories of a boy named Zeph Silverheart, who was born in a world named Nayal, the son of one of the five great dukes of the Aethelred Empire.