Five days later.

The streets leading towards the palace of the 8th Order’s province were dyed red. A convoy dragged by giant, red-coated wolves barreled through makeshift barriers.

Mighty paws ploughed through brick and stone like grains of sand. Aboard the caravans were a separate Recovery Team deployed by the Head to follow the Amalgam. Their task was to recover any innocent lives that were spared by the Amalgam, similar to how the Scarlet Logic Collection Teams used to function.

Funnily enough, some of Scarlet Logic’s forces were also integrated into this new Body of the Head. Those that properly repented and were deemed trustworthy by Justica Arms were given a chance of redemption, and they took it with pride.

Scarlet Logic’s loyalty was a shackle forged with fear and absolute control. The moment those things were torn away, their personnel became more than ready to bite that hand that nurtured them like a mistreated dog.

This new Body was named the Tear Retrievers and served precisely what its name entailed, and to a terrifyingly proficient degree. It was new and far from an Atelier, but it became a Body that was relied on by Ateliers for recovery work.

It was not directly managed by the Amalgam but instead by one of the new Level 200 Exalted. Few had flocked back to the Nexus upon hearing the Amalgam’s call via the Stars of the Nexus, and they reclaimed roles that best suited them.

The director of the Tear Retrievers was an unnamed entity. What was only known about them was they were a curious thing that wept perpetually, hence the name the ‘Tear’ Retrievers.

Their territory became the Red Grin’s following their elimination in D7 and served as a stabilizing body for such a corrupt part of the Nex Megalopolis.

On the backs of each red bodysuit-like unform of the members of the Tear Retrievers was a symbol of a blue, contrasting teardrop. The members who were deployed by them were called a Recovery Team, and required precisely twenty Recovery Units, a Vice Captain, a Captain, and one Manager preferably of Scarlet Logic origin.

Accompanying personnel was at least one Black Wing and two Hora Therapeutics Lunas. A Moon was optional, but considering the dangers of Grandis, a Lunar Haruspex accompanied the convoy.

Because of the dynamic and structure of order the Amalgam imposed; it was possible for even one of the Recovery Team grunts to give input. The Head’s philosophy centered around individual leadership. This ensured that if the head of the group was hacked off, then another could take its place like a hydra.

Paired with CognitO Transmitters and Receivers, the group may as well be one collective hivemind.

“The Ruins of Puritas. What a sight to behold. It doesn’t smell any better than S7.”

The Manager mulled, despising the sight of destruction that he had been surrounded by for as long as he could remember. He drove the frontmost caravan, which held the most vital personnel within including the Black Wing.

“Be glad that the Crimson Hunger hasn’t sprouted here yet. Despite the ruinous state of Puritas, it’s oddly only occupied by criminals and flock of the same feathers.”

The Lunar Haruspex uttered coldly.

“Well if two and one are working together then they probably have a treaty to preserve this. I don’t know what kind of lunatic would want to preserve rubble, but hey, we also have crazies of our own that want to preserve history.” The Captain spoke up, speaking casually with the Moon like they were close friends.

The Moon in question was a woman with a coat that wrapped her up like a blanket. A giant mushroom grew atop her head, and her flesh was a shade of light blue that glowed in the dark due to her bioluminescent ability.

This person was a Mycelli, and one that had the ability to produce pain-killing spores from a gas sack hidden within her blue mushroom cap.

“Attachment. Someone has a fondness for these ruins.” The Black Wing then spoke as she popped her head back into the caravan from the cavity above, brushing her short, black, and white hair that resembled the pattern of a dalmatian. “It has little historical value since Puritas should be left to rot in obscurity. As such…”

*Cha-Chank*

“… Shouldn’t we do the honors?”

A devious grin formed on her face as she readied a bulky version of the Standard Talon, one that had a far larger magazine size which took the shape of a giant drum.

“Easy. Five feathers don’t give you the right to delegate so haphazardly.” The Moon coaxed her to put her weapon down.

“Soon to be six as soon as we return.” She hummed, hoisting the weapon over her shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“Aiming for the coveted seventh feather?” The cat-eared Demi-human Manager asked, still watching the road ahead as the wolves paved through the rubble.

“Not until my hair is dyed black. Besides, I was kidding. No point in firing this baby at something that doesn’t bleed.” The Black Wing sang.

“Healers… are just wolves in sheep’s clothing.” The Captain muttered, still unable to wrap his mind around the fact that this same person used to be a Healer.

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There were seven ranks in the hierarchy of the Black Wings, which was determined by the number of golden feathers their military uniforms displayed.

One feather meant that they were a newborn Black Wing or one with little to no combat experience but were keen to work for the Head. Those who refused were not given a golden feather and were allowed to live normal lives, although the number of these was zero.

Two feathers meant that they were highly competent and were trained in various tactics.

Three feathers were given to those who received authority to lead a Squad as a Captain.

Four was reserved for exceptional Captains who needed to pass a test to receive their fifth golden feather.

Five allowed them to work independently. This was where a Black Wing could decide to remain within their Flock or to branch out on their own.

Six gave a Black Wing the authority to lead a Murder and oversee multiple Squads. Black Wings that have gone solo or to create new groups were considered immensely powerful.

Finally, Seven golden feathers represented the full transition from a Black Wing to something close to the spirit of the Black Dove, which was symbolized by the complete darkening of their hair.

The accumulation of feathers directly correlated with the color of their hair. The darker it was, the more vastly powerful and capable the Black Wing was. This was why people like Sana held such coveted roles.

The official name for these exceptional individuals was still pending. No one knew the limits of a Black Wing, but the fact they could feasibly injure a Moon put them close to the level of Colors, more so for those bearing five or more feathers.

“Once you hit my level you get your own precious toy. Handcrafted by her greatness, Beholder Jury.” The Black Wing shivered at the mention of her benefactor, embracing her weapon as she silently offered what appeared to be a prayer. “Hmhm~ Fifty bullets in the mag~ Fifty bullets in the mag~ Shoot one down, bag their body around, forty-nine bullets in the mag~”

There were a number of things the Recovery Team wanted to say, but they kept their mouths shut for the time being. Despite the casual talk their guard was raised to the point where a single shift in their surroundings would be enough to act.

And this shift occurred in the most bizarre way possible.

“Are those… flowers?” The Manager questioned.

Overgrowing on the ruins and streets were giant, three-meter flowers each colored like their petals were dipped in paint. At first, they believed them to be enemies, but to their surprise, the flowers began to clear the path for them.

Debris was removed from the streets, giving them access to the palace ahead.

“I can’t get a read on them. Lunas. What does the Status say?” The Moon questioned.

“Origin – Amalgam. We can confirm that they belong to the Head.”

Once confirmed, the group let out a sigh of relief as all eyes were drawn to the flowery beanstalk that rose from the broken palace.

“Alright. Move along. Wave to the flowers if you wish.”

The Moon’s suggestion confused the Recovery Team.

“How come?”

“Wave…?”

“Is it a Condition?”

“No. It’s because they’re a piece of the Head. What other reason is there than to show our respect?” The Moon stuck a hand through the narrow arrow slit of the walls. It was barely two inches wide, and yet their hand squeezed through like the tentacle of an octopus.

This was because her body was made from a microporous, soft material and lacked a bone structure. As matter of fact, she was essentially a sapient mushroom with organs that gave off the illusion of a humanoid.

“Children of the Amalgam… So pretty. It’s like a ray of sunshine. It germinates to make everything so perfect.” The Black Wing reveled, heavily breathing the moment it was revealed that the flowers belonged to the Amalgam. “The Black Dove… Spreads so much color all over the world. All over the places that had forsaken us.”

* * *

Eventually, the group moved into the heart of the palace. Within waited a hundred people who were well fed and uninjured thanks to the dozens of giant flowers that watched over them.

Hopeful eyes stared back as they set foot into the chamber.

“… It’s a weird feeling.” The Manager uttered as the Recovery Units moved in to immediately begin checking for any injuries or signs of trauma.

In the meantime, the Black Wing moved in to assure them that they were now in good hands.

“Get used to it. The Amalgam knows how to take care of those she leaves behind.” The Lunar Haruspex seemed to read the mind of the Manager.

“I’m not used to seeing people cling onto hope for so long. If it was anywhere else, then those eyes would’ve lost their colors. I’m thankful in any case.”

“M-Manager! Any idea what this is!?”

Black particles formed on the bodies of the Recovery Team suddenly. At first, they thought they were under the effects of an unknown spell, but this panic was immediately cast away by an enveloping warmth.

“… This is healing magic…?”

“Ease yourself. It’s the power of the Amalgam. It originates from that.”

In the center of the chamber was a single, bleeding monolith that uttered incomprehensible whispers. It emitted a periodic burst of power according to the people they rescued which, to their shock, healed them.

“Monoliths that heal?”

“Don’t be so surprised. The Head is capable of many things. Healing is but one of their many powers. Why else are they named the Amalgam?”

“… I can’t believe it. It’s an object. And it’s healing…”

“You’ll be surprised to find that some Guilds in the City of Hearts have one installed, largely due to the lack of Healers.”

Indeed.

A few Guilds had one such monolith installed and imbued with the Amalgam’s Healing magic. This eased the burden that was placed on the Healer’s significantly. As powerful as it was, specific illnesses and major injuries still required a Healer, but one could live for quite a long time just by being in the presence of the monolith.

Before the Manager or any of the Recovery Units were able to comprehend this, a loud gunshot burst their ears. Suddenly, the monolith crumbled into itself as a hail of bullets pulverized it.

“W-What are you…”

“Order of the Amalgam.” The Black Wing coldly said. “You don’t have the clearance to know more.”

“… That’s fine. I feel like it’ll be better if we’re left in the dark.”

“Good. There’s big fish out there in this cruel pond. We wouldn’t want them getting their hands on something so tasty.” The Black Wing didn’t elaborate further, but her implication was enough of an explanation for them. “So, one hundred people. How many are going to sit on the back of the wolves? We gotta head back past that disgusting city too. Too bad we can’t stuff them into a Dimensional Storage.”

To see a Healer speak like this caused a few to rub their eyes and pinch their cheek; a reaction the woman had grown to adore.

One hundred people could not easily fit in the eight caravans they brought along, so compromises needed to be made. The people half expected to be culled, but to their surprise, they overheard the talk of saving them all.

Suddenly, someone approached the Lunar Haruspex with hands tightly held to her chest.

“U-Um… Did you see… a boy on your way here?”

“Only flowers, darling.”

“I-I see… That’s a shame… They seemed close to that person. The one who saved us. I hope… he’s ok.”

Out of everyone that was saved, only one person decided to leave out of their own volition.

And that person was Deiman.