“The Wandering Healer and the Wayfarer. I didn’t think I’d meet you in person. Not so soon.” Frost uttered wearing her esteemed façade in the face of these two living urban legends. “No. What am I saying? Those are merely your titles. A pleasure to meet you on this fine night, Wingless Dove and the Justicer of the 1st Branch.

There was no way in hell she was going to appear weak in front of them. She needed to set the tone from the very start. Jury could not wake up no matter how much she shook her. Only grunts and moans left her lips. She was vulnerable to the whims of the world and depending on how things developed here, Frost feared that she may get hurt.

Or worse.

Hence why she propped herself like an omnipotent entity.

And so, she gently laid Jury aside and rose to her feet, standing tall above the two from atop the staircase.

The Adventurers turned to her, wondering who she was talking to. For all they knew she was talking to a ghost or a Corrupted they could not perceive. Either that, or she had a few loose screws.

But none dared to intervene. In fact, it seemed like something was preventing them from doing so. The bell rang again, and the Adventurers completely turned a blind eye, unable to perceive them any longer.

The Wandering Healer then spoke with a semi-casual voice. However, there was an authoritative power woven between each spoken word.

“We’re flattered that you know of us~ It’s rare that someone can see through our Cognition Filters. Usually only those we allow can see us. Like the slaves I presume you’re keeping inside~” She waved a finger in circles. “Oh, dear me. Introductions, introductions. A surprise that you even know our formal names! How mysterious~ Do please call me Dove. D-13 preferably.”

D-13? What a dehumanizing name…

“Ahhh~ The confusion on your face says it all. May you wonder what my namesake means. Allow it to be our appetizer. Shall you introduce yourself, too?” She spoke to the Wayfarer, who, after confirming something with ever-tilted scale, finally introduced himself.

“Vellin. 1st Branch Justicer of the Justica Arms. Elven blood. Of faraway lands, and the sponsored Wayfarer of my partner present.” He possessed a voice that was smoother than silk. “A pleasure to meet you, the Amalgam named Frost.”

“The pleasure is mine. Ah, please refrain from calling me the Amalgam. This name is rather sacred. It should not be known to anyone save for a select few, so I’d like to know how it appeared on your Script.” She inquired, honing her senses as she prepared for her feathers to begin judging their answers.

“A question~ You’re a curious one. I adore curiosity~ Will answering you grant us access into the building?” She counter rotated her spinning finger. “It’d rather we didn’t fight. I’m just a fledgling healer~”

Her demeanor was entire casual now. Carefree in a way compared to the Wayfarer who stood like a stone statue, never blinking as he stared up at her with unmoving resolve in those leaf-green eyes. The man had lush green hair, tied into a long ponytail now that she had a closer look. Plus, he did not seem like the aggressive type.

But that calmness was eerie in of itself.

“It depends on your intentions. You’re only here for the slaves, I presume?”

“The slaves, and yourself~” D-13 hummed.

“Me? For what?” She sharped her tone.

“We shall leave that to the end. Oh, but don’t worry~ It’s nothing insidious. It’ll be our regards in the stead of the one who wishes to meet with you.” She spoke cryptically. The feathers still rustled in response. “The Scripts have no known origin. Where their knowledge comes from is all up in the air~ Hmm. You aren’t quite like anyone I’ve seen before.”

“You’re not normal. But many of those in the Atelier’s are far from what we consider normal as well. That being said – May we kindly enter? There should be no trouble between us.” Vellin said.

“Answer me this first. Will you harm the slaves?” Frost had to ask.

“Oh please~ How could you say something so hurtful. A healer is incapable of doing harm. What we provide is~ Sal~va~tion~” She said the last word in pauses, speaking each syllable with each step taken on the staircase.

Before long, the two were face to face with one another. The woman was tall. Taller than Jury and easily stood above Frost despite being higher up the staircase. She was essentially a harbinger of life, yet Frost could not help but to only see death in those vibrant-blue eyes of hers.

She pointed her clawed hand towards Frost’s chest and smiled innocently. The red fluid bubbled before turning blue as the bells run again.

“You are a healer~ Unaffiliated no less. Your namesake as the Amalgam is unfamiliar to us. But if this being wished to meet with you, then I can only assume that your ordinance stands echelons above ours~ Hmm~ You’re a rather young healer, aren’t you. How fortunate of you. Vellin~ Shall we heal these tortured souls~?”

The woman was sharp. Far sharper than Frost could have ever imagined. Though she didn’t explicitly state it, Frost knew that this woman saw right through her façade as if it weren’t there at all. Her intuition saw Frost for who she was, rather than what she was trying to be.

But even so, she needed to keep it up.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“I assume you mean the Arbiter… Right. This way then. Neither of us wish to fight, so let’s not do anything abrupt.” Frost said after picking up the sleeping Jury in her arms. “And just so you know, I’ve already healed them.”

They passed through the blasted doors and stepped into the bright candle-lit lobby.

“I would have hoped so~ Frost. Frost. Frooost~ Your name has a nice ring to it. The Amalgam sound ominous. Namesakes are powerful, you know that~? Does your namesake imply that you devour?” The woman was intentionally trying to crawl under Frost’s skin, but she found it rather amusing.

“Do you want to find out?” She half-joked, trying to match the casual tone of the woman.

D-13 fondly smiled.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I wanted to be eaten by a monster~” She hummed. “Where are our friends?”

“Asleep upstairs. Stay here. I’ll go fetch them.”

“Oh, no need for that. We have but the perfect tool to summon the agonized hearts of our friends~”

Once they reached the center of the hall, D-13 rang the bells fitted on her necklace again. The tone was slightly higher pitched this time. What this thing actually did was unknown, but it possessed the incredible ability to only be heard by certain individuals.

It was certainly loud enough to awaken every single sleeping person within the Guild and yet only a handful of silent patters emerged from above. They became louder until a miniature stampede arrived at the overlooking balcony above.

“Waaah~? You really did come back for us!” One of the slaves exclaimed.

It was the cat-woman, and she was not alone. Beside her were all the other slaves. Even Via was present, flabbergasted by the sight of the Wandering Healer and the Wayfarer.

“It’s them again! W-Welcome back Wandering Healer~!” The fox-woman cried, waving her hands sporadically.

“Heaaaaleeeeer~! You kept your word!” The dog-woman yelled, hopping up and down.

“That’s the Wandering Healer…?” The cat-girl from earlier muttered, glancing back and forth between Frost and D-13. “That’s right. They wore white instead of black in the urban legend. That bell sounded funny. Ugh. Did you have to wake me up? I’m already healed.” She complained to the bee-woman.

In the span of only minutes, she had roused them all up from their sleep with only a bell.

What is that bell Nav?

“An Atelier item from CogitO most likely. They’re able to tinker with the mind. But this may be a phenomenon more akin to Pavlov’s Bell. Except that only a selected few may hear it.”

“Interesting… They would have heard this bell the first time they met, right? Pavlov’s Bell is a good way to put it.”

D-13 happily waved her normal hand as the Wayfarer simply watched on with his arms held behind his back. Not even the wholesomeness before him could sway his stoic face.

So they’re really not evil people, huh.

“I believe it was obvious. A healer cannot be your enemy.”

Well, think about being in my position for a second. What’s common sense to you is completely fucked for me. It doesn’t help that Jury’s not awake. I’m worried about her more than anything.

“A logical conclusion. But fear not. Justica Arms personnel are also quite valiant. All their members possess an extremely ridged sense of justice.”

That scale seemed to confirm something to him. Maybe that I’m not an enemy? It glowed pretty brightly too.

“I believe so.”

The commotion rang in the middle of the night. It was frankly a miracle that no one else seemed to question this. Better yet, no one was disturbed by the racket at all. The noise insulation of this building must be spectacular!

But that was not the case. It was all thanks to the Cognition Filter these two possessed. These objects were in the form of inconspicuous metal studs found along their ears.

“An Atelier item made by CogitO. It filters the presence of others and oneself. From what I understand it is used exclusively by Wandering Healers and Wayfarers. But it would not be a surprise if they were used by others."

Like living ghosts. No wonder they were only regarded as urban legends.

It was bewildering to say the least. Like they were in some sort of spatial bubble that sealed them off from the rest of the world. Nav briefly mentioned that the technology of CogitO directly affected the minds of the living. To what extent was left to speculation.

Nav added that another use case of CogitO’s technology was creating a literal [CENSOR] bar to visually block off anything that risked causing someone to panic or to undergo a mental breakdown. It was quite useful for fodder like the lackeys of the Scarlet Logic. That way they could fight the Corrupted without ever having to fear the monstrosity they were up against.

The RESIST stat directly countered these effects, however.

That aside –

The collection of slaves spilled down the stairs in the far end of the hall. They quickly clumped around the Wandering Healer and the Wayfarer with glistening eyes and heartfelt cheers, as if they were their heroes.

It was no exaggeration to call them this. They were, after all, the ones who saved them.

The commotion was instantly silenced by the wave D-13’s hand which she then guided through the air like a bird.

“It’s spectacular to see you all so healthy~ But I’m afraid that we’ve only come to inoculate these ones~ I presume you six were already healed by our friend here. Hmm… Vellin.”

“Checking now.”

Vellin took out the tilted scale and pointed it at the 6 slaves Frost healed back in the Anid nest. A faint light glowed on the tilted side of the scale, changing in luminosity depending on who it was pointed towards. Nothing abnormal appeared until it moved onto the cat-eared girl.

The light instantly faded at that moment.

Neither Frost nor the girl in question knew what this meant. For the others on the other hand – it was the source of a sudden plague of sadness. They reacted as if this girl possessed an incurable disease and was on her death bed.

It was concerning to say the least.

“What is your name, little one?” Vellin asked, kneeling before her.

“I don’t have a name.”

“That makes it easier for us then. All six of you, please follow us. We will make our encounter brief.” He spoke, still without any emotion in his voice as D-13 tapped the head of the young cat-girl.

“Hmm~ How interesting. Only one out of the six. That’s surprisingly low~ I wonder who must have given these ones hope in their time of need~?” She glanced over at Frost. “No matter. It is what it is. Follow along~”

D-13 and Vellin moved towards the entrance. Their footsteps echoed in tune with the beating hearts of the six slaves who promptly followed, not knowing what else to do. The cat-eared girl looked over at Frost with a small smile.

Why did that smile look so painful?

“W-wait… do you have to…” The fox-eared girl suddenly interjected, her voice betraying her mid-shout.

“Shh… it’s for the best.” The bee-girl uttered. “Many of my sister drones went out the same way.”

“We can’t stop it. It’s… tch. Why her? Weren’t you happy?” The dog-girl clenched her fists in frustration.

Their murmurs were concerning. Frost had a terrible feeling about this. As if sensing her concern, D-13 stopped in her tracks just at the entrance, her face enshrouded by the dim moonlight beyond.

“When you think of salvation, what is the first thing that comes to mind?” She simply asked.

Her voice wasn’t casual, fun, or melodic anymore.

It was a pained, gruelling voice that asked this.

Frost was taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. She felt like she was being tested.

“Being saved? Cured? Healed?” She listed a small number of things, wondering what the woman was trying to convey.

D-13 glanced back over her shoulder. Her answer amused her. But there was also an insurmountable amount of sadness in those eyes.

“Your optimism reminds me of my old self. It’s refreshing. Come. Let me show you the meaning of salvation, oh Frost.”