The end was in sight now. Massive spears struck down the Apostles, flinging them like balls to the sides. A long, straight road presented itself to Frost as she ran towards the gate.
Another fifty Markers were eaten by the time the Apostles’ bodies squelched under the immense trauma. Unlike the living, their HP pool did not properly reflect the state of their bodies. A Corrupted could still fight at full strength with only 1 HP.
The road paved to paradise was drenched with steams of blood. Crimson floods from the bodies of the battered Apostles and Markers sloshed through the streets. The elevated highway soon became the only place that wasn’t submerged in blood.
It was a localized effect that grew stronger the closer she approached the pale gates. Her reflection still could not be found even when she stopped to peer into the bloody waters. Frost’s body grew heavier in the ever-dominating presence of the Icon of Judgement.
Her many eyes darted in all directions. A mental map of the remaining Markers was made as she routed towards the most efficient path, straying from the main road. The Apostles grew to tremendous sizes, their legs sinking into the shallow pool.
The Eighth Apostle | HP: 1
The Ninth Apostle | HP: 1
The Tenth Apostle | HP: 1
They were submerged from the waist down. A silent howl left their gaping mouths as if calling to the Icon of Judgement. No matter how much they bled, how much they cried or screamed – their voices were drowned out by the prideful silence of a being beyond their comprehension.
It did not understand what they wanted.
Spears were pointed to skies as the tips perfectly touched. The apples tumbled from their spears, dipping into the sea of red beneath. The world of red was reminiscent of the scene Frost saw at the tail end of her vision of the old world.
A land of ruins and nothingness, swallowed by the blood of countless. The world seemingly morphed into another world. The pale walls that divided Paradise disappeared without a trace.
Beyond the ruins of Paradise were the sandy dunes of a wasteland leading to nowhere. Pieces of the world were broken as the feathers of the Icon of Judgement propagated further beyond Paradise, permanently altering the features of the land itself.
Its wings reached past Paradise and carved into the world, lifting tremendous amounts of materials into the air. Boulders fell from the darkened skies of midnight, lit only by the Markers.
The Corrupted Zone was like the merge of the Nex of the Icon of Judgement and fragments of the old world, rather than being purely of the former. It could still be seen as the former. She recalled the sights seen on the Floor of Hope and realized that those who lived outside of the old city, and even within its boundaries, would only be able to see the light of Paradisio.
They’d be drawn to it like moths to a flame. How could people not revere the only light in their starless skies? It was the only one in a desolate world that promised paradise. Markers rose on the bloodied seas. Frost was able to run along its surface like it was no different from the bricked path that led from the outer reaches of the dunes, straight to the gates of the garden.
< “The color of our blood determines who we are.” The Eight Apostle drowns in a sea of spilled blood >
< Blood was the only way to tell humanity apart >
< To do that, it needed to tear into them >
< A heart heavy with regret strains its wings >
The Apostle didn’t impale itself onto its spear. Instead, it sank into the blood, leaving its weapon behind that joined the others above Frost’s head.
“I saw a similar sight to this.” Frost whispered.
Her legs never stopped moving. She was drenched in blood from head to toe with no place to wash it off save for the crimson sea; to wash off sin with another sin.
“It was after Sinder’s first Corruption. The city was nearly destroyed. I like to think that the sight is always the same following a cataclysmic event.”
< It always ends, but never in the same way >
< You may interpret this Corruption Zone as even a continuation of it >
“What do you mean by that?”
< A Corrupted of this caliber is made up of many events. A single theme ties it together >
< This particular instance may have continued from where Sinder perished >
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< And where the Arbiter, who had lost many of her Angels at the tail end of the world and the City, deeply lamented and sought to find them >
“Can Corrupted be that straightforward? I find it hard to believe. It’s a Paradise Lost Corrupted. So why is its story so easy to follow?”
< Complexity does not correlate with the Arbiter’s Trumpet >
< You must have noticed it now >
< Stronger emotions give rise to more powerful Corrupted >
< Usually, those stronger emotions are far from complex even if the story can appear indecipherable >
Frost had eaten 850 slices now.
< “I didn’t ask to be reborn. Neither did they.” The Ninth Apostle gazed out into the land of wanderers >
< Conflict will always remain. Blood feuds will never end. Future generations will bear the sins of their fathers unwillingly >
< The past will be brought into the present to dictate the future >
It sank, leaving only the Tenth Apostle.
“Hey. By the way – how can you be so sure that this is a continuation?”
Frost wanted a definite answer from the Voice but didn’t receive a response.
< “We shaped the city. And thereafter, the city shaped us.” The Tenth Apostle regrets >
< The city molded them >
< It questioned where heaven starts, and hell begins >
Ten spears hovered over Frost’s head now. Each spear had grown to over five meters in length. They were closer to the bolts of a grand ballista than a spear. With only two remaining now, and with less than 150 slices to go, Frost had already set her sights on the finish line.
All she needed now was to find the princess. If she could just find her, then everything was within reach.
Suddenly, as her hand dove into the cavity of a Marker, she felt a sharp, mental pain zap her unexpectedly.
//////// < EXTREME WARNING > ////////
< 20 Innocents have perished >
“What…? Voice, what’s going on!? I didn’t see anything!”
Panic didn’t set in, but Frost was visibly disturbed by this.
She shared the senses with her Innocents, meaning she should have seen exactly what had happened. However –
< 60 Innocents have perished >
– Something was hunting the Innocents out there. Even with only a tenth of her stats they should not be dying so quickly. The fact that it was an instant death spoke volumes of the kind of enemy that lurked in Paradise.
< Frost. You will know why I believe it is a metaphorical continuation when we meet >
The Voice flashed this one prompt before the Icon of Judgement announced with immense gravitas:
< “The beginning and the end serve no meaning to I who is eternal.” >
< “My Kingdom must be protected to stand the test of time.” >
< “I sought to the very end to find the good deeds of humanity.” >
< “But none hath shone brighter than the one thee will cradle like how the night embraces the stars.” >
< Its feathers rustle strangely >
< Desperation drives its wings to search for what it longs for >
< It searches ever more with wings that can’t bring itself to soar >
< Tall it stands >
< Wings reach out asking for the meaning of Salvation from what it deemed forbidden >
< [Salvation] >
< [Serve Me, O’ Apostle!] >
Only one portal opened, and it appeared above the front gates to the inner Garden. A benevolent being encased in brilliant white descended, wielding the same armor as the first three Apostles.
However, they stood easily at over ten meters in size. A pair of golden eyes shone within its visor as dazzling, long, sky-blue hair collapsed past its shoulders. In one hand was the enlarged spear of the Apostles.
“That’s…!”
And in the other, was a flaming blade twice as large as its body. When it swung the blade, it was not that it moved.
Rather, it seemingly pulled the world towards it.
“… Lailah!”
< “From the blood of mine and my miracles thee, who shall be named after the night, will protect the gate of my Garden.” >
< “Cradle the fallen star tenderly.” >
< “Oppose those who dare to touch what is forbidden.” >
< “Remove my Paradise of all traitors.” >
//////// < WARNING > ////////
< APOCALYPSE >
< THE ARBITER’S TRUMPET HUMS ITS DIRGE >
The Eleventh Apostle
< “I told tales of a perfect world to a fleeting light. In pursuit of our promised paradise by my Creator, I devote myself equally as its mother and as its guardian in eternal servitude, dreaming one day of holding its hand to see those fantastical sights. Together.” >
AFFINITY : Judgement
LEVEL : 320 ORIGIN : Trauma
HP : 600,000,000
ATT : 200,000 MAG ATT : 200,000 ATT DEF : 150,000 MAG DEF : 150,000
MP : 400,000
RESIST : 50,000 AGI : 150