He was now more than willing to gush. When asked if there were others like himself, he admitted that it was unlikely. From here to the Capital it was a wasteland where not even a single tree grew, aside from the trees of gold that used to bear golden apples.
Furthermore, considering he still kept his mind, she had to ask what compelled him to lure people to the Unfair Tale in the first place. His answer immediately piqued her interest.
“The Corpse Snatchers…”
“For what reason?”
“T-To – TO – Distract!”
“Make sense before I take all four of your limbs at once.”
“I’m telling you the truth! It’s the truth! I’ve only heard of it! But the North is being isolated! B-Blue!”
“Blue?”
“Blue Chorus… Died trying to find the truth!”
A Color was killed?
“What do these Corpse Snatchers look like?”
With a desperate gasp, the man uttered:
“Steel… metal masks… like skeletons. Bodies like bones… wearing funeral suits.”
Finally, she had the confirmation she needed.
The Memento Mori is behind this after all. The North is probably where they’re stationed. I can already imagine that the Diavola Kingdom’s in ruins. The question is…
“… why are they desperately keeping people out of there?”
Nav read Frost’s mind. Whever the reason was couldn’t be good. And considering the Memento Mori had the power to reanimate corpses, it was possible that the Blue Chorus was now under their control.
Are they amassing Colors? Powerful people?
“If people are materials, then an Impuritas Color may pose a significant risk.”
Something as small as this had the power to change the tide of war. With Grandis being so close to the Nexus, Frost could not ignore the possibly of yet another theater of war opening on this side.
She had to think carefully. Her eerily silent ponder caused the man’s breathing to slow, a part of him falsely believing that he was safe.
Change of plans. We’ll be moving to the North as soon as we finish in the Bellum Empire. Inform the Beholders. Also, keep a sizable force on standby.
“Effective immediately. The Archivist is already scrambling to her feet.”
Good. Because if my history is anything to go by, then we should expect a Heart of the City as well.
Frost, since the start, was the kind of person to go in headstrong. This had resulted in numerous problems. But now that she had experience, she had the opportunity to preemptively prepare.
Never again was she going to dance on the palms of their hands ever again.
Further questioning also revealed that the fall of Paradise saw the total collapse of the Orders. Without the King, there was little reason to remain chained to a dying kingdom. This combined with the fear of the Dozen Winged Bird further caused them to disassociate themselves with Puritas.
However, the core reason was different from what Frost expected.
“If it weren’t for the Prince… becoming a Blessed… and if the Princess didn’t die… then… we could’ve thrived… Rebuilt… after the fall…”
If Iscario didn’t become a Star, huh. How funny. So is his attempt to bring the Impuritas together to make amends for that? I’d love to ask him myself.
Frost realized she may have found a sore spot for him, which she grinned at the thought of his face contorting to this.
“Now then. I hate liars. So, I’m going to let you clear your name right now.”
“Merciful… Truly – Merci… ful…?”
Suddenly, Frost wrapped his mouth with her brambles, crushing his jaw and closing his windpipe till not a sound could be made. Terror filled his eyes once again as he soon realized that death only awaited him now.
“[Sinless Repent]. You will answer everything I have asked truthfully. Enjoy your trip to hell.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“No… No! Wait – No – NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
His eyes became hollow, and the brambles tore away as his mouth curved into a hideous grin. It tore free from the brambles and instantly prostrated itself before her as it confessed the truth.
Cult of the Mad Slippers Leader
< Confessor >
< “It was done for the sake of persistence and survival. For the greed and lust of our abandoned brothers and sisters. We wanted to be surrounded by many like the days of the old. The days where they ordered the burning of countless simply because their names were written on the parchment. We came to discover that their names did not even match, but even so we continued with our righteous path.” >
< The traitor of Puritas is a legend I believed was orchestrated to strengthen our bonds. Never did I ever think that our perfect paradise would have a snake inside of our sacred garden >
< What’s left of us is scattered around the world. I only remained because I was loyal. People I called friends abandoned protecting his place and allowed it to be weathered by time.” >
< “I believe them. The Corpse Snatchers. Death is painful. Loss ruins us with grief. I too want to be eternal. So I will oversee the south. To spread tales far and wide so that the news of the North will be drowned.” >
There was nothing else for it say as it died whilst prostrating. The brambles shredded it until it was no more, and the walls finally collapsed, revealing a beautiful, colorful meadow of giant flowers.
(Color) Dahlia
AFFINITY : Lament
LEVEL : 50 ORIGIN : Trauma
HP : 12,000
ATT : 300 MAG ATT : 300 ATT DEF : 300 MAG ATT : 300
MP : 6,000
RESIST : 30 AGI : 0
They were giant, living flowers hiding rows of teeth within the depths of its inner whorls. Frost had total command over them, and they could even persist after removing her Corrupted Persona.
Not only that, but these flowers had the power to reproduce.
Indeed. They had the ability to propagate themselves endlessly along the world so long as they had sinners to provide them with nutrients. Frost was technically their mother, and upon seeing her the closest one lowered its head to offer her its humble greeting.
< PASSIVE: To Bloom >
< EFFECT: Those with 100% Guilt Stacks will be absolved of sin by transforming into a Dahlia. They will proliferate and color their surroundings, leaving behind the proof of their absolved sins in the colors of their petals >
< It comes in full circle >
“Protect these ones. Let them stay here. One of my Recovery Teams will be arriving in a few days. I trust you’ll know them when you see them.”
Frost spoke to her towering, three-meter-tall flowers, garnering nods. Brambles of their own offered her bouquets as if to court her, causing her to smile tenderly.
“Deiman. You’ll be in charge of the Demi-humans and the slaves. Let them know they’re free. Someone’s going to come and help you, alright? As for everyone else, you’ll be given a choice by team and some support. Don’t cause any issues if you value your life. If the idea of being saved by me disgusts you, then you’re more than free to walk out of here with your life.”
No one moved an inch. They knew it would be foolish to reject such an offer. The air of suspicion could not be removed with just kindness alone. It needed to be proved further. In the end, it wasn’t up to Frost to convince them.
That role went to the Demi-human ex-Shells who vouched for Frost’s character.
Deiman suddenly approached Frost, holding out his hand as if asking if he could come along.
“I’m sorry, but you’ll only slow me down.”
“… can you tell me at least where you are going?”
“Somewhere dangerous. Just stay here, ok? My people will come and help you.”
There was more he wanted to say, but he simply kept quiet and nodded obediently.
“Don’t come chasing after me, or I’ll seriously get mad. If you’re hungry then take one of these.”
Frost plucked some fruit from the stems of a Dahlia and handed it to him. The fruit possessed the same colors of the flower.
Fruit of Gluttony
< An irresistibly sweet fruit made from the sins of gluttony >
“The flowers won’t hurt you. So… This is where I say goodbye. We’ll probably see each other in the future, so don’t be so sad.”
He nodded again. Suddenly, the same Demi-humans she saved prior to coming here gathered around her, hugging her long roots to say goodbye. It was regrettable to leave them so suddenly, but Frost couldn’t be at two places at once.
Plus… Judging by some of their stats, they’d make for some wonderful personnel of the Nexus, or even an Atelier.
If not, then Carpalis’ doors were always open.