The laws of Shengdao form a living framework from tradition, morality, and the lingering presence of the elders who once shaped the world. Though the elders rarely intervene directly, their authority remains absolute. Their guards stand as the physical manifestation of this power, serving as the continent’s soldiers, watchmen, and protectors. These guards patrol important places, oversee marketplaces and borders, and safeguard individuals of political or spiritual significance. Their presence alone is often enough to settle disputes before they escalate, for everyone knows that harming a guard is equivalent to defying the will of the elders themselves.
At the heart of Shengdao’s legal system lie the universal laws, moral principles so deeply rooted in society that breaking them is seen as a stain upon the soul. Killing without necessity, stealing, exploiting others, lying in ways that deliberately cause harm, and acts of cruelty or malice are condemned across all regions. These values stem not from any religion but from an ancient understanding that imbalance invites disaster, and that society thrives only when its people uphold honor and compassion. Children are raised with the belief that wrongdoing echoes through the land itself, disturbing the quiet slumber of the elders who watch from afar.
Punishments reflect the severity of the crime and differ between regions, yet there are common methods acknowledged across Shengdao. Fines and reparations are among the most common, designed to restore balance rather than inflict suffering. Restriction of movement, community service, temporary exile, and supervised labor exist as further measures. In more traditional or isolated areas, archaic methods survive, symbolic acts of discomfort, ritual penance, or the marking of one’s misdeeds in public record. Still, the elders do not permit mutilation, torture, or the infliction of permanent bodily harm as a punishment. Their sense of justice is rooted in correction, not destruction.
Trials are formal events attended by both Shiji judges and, when present, elders who choose to lend their voice. The guards present the case, witnesses speak, and the accused is given the chance to defend themselves. When an elder is present, their opinion is valued above all else, especially in cases involving violence, treason, or spiritual disturbance. Their insights are believed to reach beyond simple fact, touching the deeper intent and truth of the matter. While elders rarely intervene in lesser crimes, their presence in major trials is considered both a blessing and a warning.
Despite this, Shengdao is vast, and not all its corners fall neatly under elder-sanctioned law. Many remote lands, deserts, highlands, and coastlines remain semi-lawless, governed only by local customs or the individuals powerful enough to impose order. These areas follow their own rules, sometimes aligned with the mainland’s moral code, sometimes wholly distinct. Among aquatic Shiji communities, for example, it is strictly forbidden to hunt or consume higher sea life such as whales, dolphins, and octopus, which are seen as ancient kin whose intelligence borders on spiritual awareness. Violating this taboo results in severe social exile and heavy spiritual cleansing rites. In the endless steppes, herds of cattle are treated as sacred companions, and harming one without the blessing of the local spirit-priests is considered a grave sin.
Other regions maintain rules shaped by their environment and ancestral ties. Mountain clans forbid loud shouting or music at high altitudes, believing the echoes disturb sleeping spirits within the stone. Forest communities prohibit the cutting of certain ancient trees unless the earth spirits give their signs of approval. Desert caravans follow laws of hospitality so strict that denying help to a traveler can be punished more severely than theft. Each region exists in a balance between necessity, tradition, and caution — for all know that the land itself remembers injustice far longer than its people do.
In the end, the laws of Shengdao reflect the same truth that shapes the world: harmony must be maintained, or the weight of imbalance will awaken forces far older and far less forgiving than any judge or guard.