218. Another Point in Civilization

218. Another Point in Civilization

“You’re right. I know I don’t know a single fucking thing. But if it’s your right to live, then the same goes for everyone else… No matter what, there’s taboos that shouldn’t be broken. Eating flesh… even I’ve dabbled in it! But unlike you – I’ve never once done it because I enjoyed it!” Frost threw her forward, and just before she moved out of reach, Frost punched her and used Thermal Propagation to send her flying faster than ever before.

Her body flailed in the wind, splitting like a peeled banana as she collided with the ground, scooping the bedrock into her gaping maw. The scars of the gorge were numerous, and terrified eyes watched from within the safety of their caves, tents, and whatever boulder they could find.

“You’re condemnable. Nothing about you is redeemable. I frankly don’t give a fuck about your sob story. Your upbringing… It doesn’t change the fact that you’ve tormented these people all your life!” Frost cried, but deep down she knew that if it weren’t for all of this… this disastrous place they called the City of Spades, or Grandis – then no one would have had to resort to any of this.

“That’s it, huh!? Judgement… Justice… you’re more crazier than I thought!” The woman gurgled, vomiting the mass of soil aside, her barbed tongue vibrating as if hit by an electric current.

They had travelled so far into the gorge that Frost had no idea where they currently were. Behind the woman was a long slope that led directly into S4. Spires of tall structures were overrun by a blanket of red webs as giant, fleshy balls akin to the Plague Heart in Divas Pass littered the desolate landscape like the spores of a shroom.

The backdrop caused Frost to freeze in place, all the while the Venus Flesh Trap’s roots suddenly locked her into the earth, her emotions heightening far past than what her body could handle.

“You’re from one of those big old cradles of civilization like Atlas! Never had anything to fear! Never had anything to worry about, so you can spout that nonsense! There ain’t nothing more poisonous – More rending than ‘righteousness’! YOU are the most dangerous of all calling yourself right in a world where we can only live with wrongs just to be left alone!”

What happens to her now?

“Nothing. It is obvious that her body cannot withstand that seed, and it is devouring her as I’ve mentioned.”

How do you know that Nav? How can you possibly know all of this when you’ve also known so little about them? Is it the Archivist?

Frost approached the festering woman, whose body had almost been completely turned to a plant. Aside from her hands and general shape, there was little semblance of a human being. In fact, she was more like a plant that mimicked a human rather than the other way around.

There was silence for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Her footsteps failed to produce a noise as the symphony of heartbeats died off. Frost stood meters away from the woman and gazed into the invisible glare within her maw.

Then, Nav finally answered.

“… No. It is the Arbiter. That Seed comes from the Advent – the Garden of Paradise. The Apple is but one byproduct of its trees, and the seeds are derived from these Apples…”

The Bloody Herring worshiped a golden garden within the Triple Paw Complex. He was infatuated by them. Little did we know that it was a recreation of an Advent…

“The Advent of Judgement. It appears to be able to create Impuritas at will.”

And Corrupted as well. I’m willing to bet my life on it.

“That is up for debate. But it is a debate I am siding with you. Neither can I see it any other way. Advents possess the power to significantly alter the world…”

As if it wasn’t already fucked up. That Apple would be one hell of an incentive to join Iscario considering the Impuritas seek to become Corrupted.

Frost neared the Second State. Her mind had contorted enough. She reached out a hand to the woman and attempted to heal her. To cleanse this all away but to no avail. She didn’t know why she tried. Death was the only outcome for her, but even so, she could not help but to pity the woman.

“What crimes did I commit!? Just to be able to live a lil’ longer!? Is that what a crime is to ya!? Must be nice being from up there! You never had your limbs torn off and beaten down by em’. Havin’ to live in fear of being turned to paste! Never had someone take yer hands all because you did nothin’ wrong! Just because you were human!” The Venus Flesh Trap spoke in a squeamish voice, right before a head suddenly emerged from its maw.

That head belonged to the Head Eater. It was a much younger version of herself. An adolescent, with beautiful black hair and crimson eyes. It wept, and the plant savored her tears, using it as nourishment.

“Then you got us working with the henchmen of the Authors! Better this than to get turned into a fucking book! I’d rather die a monster than have what’s left of me turned into a book! Was it my fault I was born into a blemished life!?”

“… No one ever chooses where they’re born. I understand that.” Frost grit her teeth as the Venus Flesh Trap then began to rapidly lose HP. Slowly but surely, she began to slip down the slope, to which Frost quickly followed.

It was as though she was trying to escape but in reality – It was the ground that moved her.

An allegory of the Head Eater’s life. Like the plant she took after, she was forever rooted into the unforgiving earth, nourished by things she could not choose.

This prompt was not made by Nav.

This was the Arbiter speaking to her directly.

“… I don’t remember my own upbringing. I can’t remember even a percent of my past. But I guarantee you that no matter what happened to me I would never have stooped to your level.” There was no room for forgiveness in Frost’s heart. Soon, people began to move from the depths of S4 up towards them in strides. Those people turned a blind corner, their animals and mounts galloping in the hundreds.

The Venus Flesh Trap’s mouth opened, and its barbed tongue began to whip the air at the scent of fresh meat.

“Running away from the Solemn Paw… we found ourselves here in Brandar. Do you know how much we suffered? Violence… on violence. No one can talk to one another.” The woman lamented, still struggling to live despite her condition.

Frost took out her Atelier Item – Die Agnosis and placed it against her. Nothing happened, however. She had to wonder just what circumstance would allow her Atelier Item to function.

Venus Flesh Trap | HP: 12,000

“… Ya think I was born like this? Wantin’ to eat people? I love it… but I hated watching my own pa feed me his fingers just to see me grow up. Like sharks I ate my sibblin’s. Just to survive. And now… this is all how it ends? Aha… Hahahaha…. Haha… The Seed never changed a thing. I never achieved what I wanted to be. Blinded by all this strength I never realized that I’d become so hideous.”

Frost incinerated the barb before it could do any damage as a parade of desperate people rushed by, unaware of how close they were to being slaughtered by this. The panic melded with the heartbeats, and before long as they continued to slide downwards, she began to hear an eerie sobbing.

HP: 8,000

“But it got me here. Livin’… Until you ‘rightful’ Color came along… razin’ everythin’ down. Tramplin’ on us like we nothing more than blades of grass.”

But this did not come from the Venus Flesh Trap. It came from somewhere far below.

The wood began to rot, and it then carried Frost’s flames as she grasped onto its separated heads, mashed them together and prepared to take one final bite. Fearing that her soul may be connected with Scarlet Logic, she took every precaution to erase her soul.

There could be no redemption.

HP: 1,000

“… if I was born into those golden cities up there, then maybe I would’ve been a better flower. No regrets… But you? I can tell that you’ve been seeded in a place just as worse. Not knowin’ where you were born… could it be that you’re so ashamed – so afraid that you’ve blocked it aaaaalll out?”

Her final words were not like Leitmotif’s or the Bloody Herring. She did not beg, and she fought all the way to the bitter end. It was her last offense against Frost, who was the only person in her life that could not be moved by violence.

Language on the other hand…

“… Even if I did remember, it wouldn’t change a single fucking thing.” Frost took one great bite and devoured her, feasting on the plant-like material, where flesh and blood ran within its stems and roots.

There was nothing to gain other than her stats. There was no Seed, and neither were there any Abilities. The sound of whimpering grew stronger as the earth finally came to a stop. People obediently avoided her like the plague as she stood still, simmering in the bitter afterglow of her encounter.

“… Nav… There’s so much about me I still don’t know. People call me violent. They tell me to be careful. But I frankly don’t care about what I was… because this is who I am… This me is the only me I care about.” Frost said aloud to mentally reaffirm her sense of unwavering identity.

The world seemingly moved in slow motion. People ran with frightened faces. Somewhere at the blind turn she was met with blue that contrasted the red world of S4. An urban scape similar to H9 sprawled S4, save their structures were far larger. Each building appeared like a prison and was highly angular with square roofs and unpainted décor.

It was drab, and the Crimson Hunger painted it all in red like S4 was a giant canvas.

But somewhere down there, amidst the heartbeats, was a blob of blue and the quiet sobbing of a girl. Frost knew this was the source of their terror, and so, she followed it until finally leaving the fault line.

Are the others ok?

“Perfectly fine. Although, Ber has been highly fixated on the severed hands and several mirrors. A few have come to recognize the triplets as well. Not by appearance, but by their eye color and the pattern of their tail.”

People ran away from Grandis into Brandar long ago to escape the Solemn Paw. With them being Raoul’s sisters… I think that only makes sense. The cycle of violence goes both ways in Grandis, huh… And people won’t stop getting caught in between.

Frost could no longer tell if that weeping was hers or someone else’s. The same for the heartbeats. She was so close to entering the Second State, but before that –

– Frost was so fed up with the suffering that she contemplated annihilating S4 where it stood. But that sobbing stopped her. Before long, she found herself traversing an oddly blue, derelict place that was completely different from the structures of S4.

It was oddly modern. Modern meaning that it appeared like the concrete towers from Earth. But they were also rather strange. There were no windows, and their design was highly simplistic compared to what she was used to on Earth.

Somehow, this place felt familiar.

The weeping eventually led her towards a crossroads, where neon signs of various playing card suits pointed in every direction. All save for the clubs, which was clutched in the hand of a formless, shadowy girl.

A page with a flaming crown replaced the sign of the club as the girl sat on her knees in the center, uttering nonsensical words.

That entity was a Corrupted.

One that resonated deeply with Frost and the Archivist.

//////// ////////

Trickle…?

“I’m surprised as well. A Trickle Corrupted – the lowest of the low – is the first chapter in the tale of Civitas Cinder.”

We Discarded Many

LEVEL : 20

ORIGIN : Trauma

HP : 5,000

ATT : 0

MAG ATT : 500

ATT DEF : 0

MAG DEF : 0

MP : 1,000

RESIST : 0

AGI : 2