805. The Honored Enoch

805. The Honored Enoch

Enoch smeared her bloodied palms across the air. Crimson spears appeared from balls of coagulated blood. They hung overhead, transforming the hallway into what looked like the mouth of a hideous leech.

“Welcome to the Nexus. I’m honestly at a loss for words. Didn’t you learn what happened last time a Fractured was caught? Don’t worry. I’ll keep you alive and well. I’ll just impale you and keep you aside. Your bodies are mine.”

An Honored One like Enoch could control the blood of lesser beings. But this was a conditional power that required only one condition. Her blood needed to be inside of them. If it ran through their veins, then Enoch had complete domination over their beings.

“I never did introduce myself. Or, well, you can’t exactly speak. I’m not a Beholder either, so there’s no reason for you to know. But since I’m doing this… I think you’ll figure it out soon. I have high expectations~” Enoch giggled, unbuttoning her suit and then several buttons of her undershirt to reveal the corners of an unrecognizable mark.

It was located on her heart. The small section she revealed looked like the thorns of a broken rose, but it was impossible to verify this. Suddenly, Enoch’s eyes sharpened, and the smirk on her face vanished.

An aura of red mist surrounded her as her scarlet eyes drilled into them.

“They say that you can create a rose if you collect enough broken thorns. But I don’t think so. Some of us are already complete. Satisfied, if you will. Others become jealous of another’s completeness.”

Enoch’s tone drastically shifted. The jolly, aloof voice and reserved smile disappeared like it was all an act. She combed through her hair with a hand that resembled a claw, which had been formed by crystalized blood.

“Consider your life in this part of the world as the Nexus’ mercy. These green lands. People who you can talk to. Murder, in your case. The blue skies. The stars you never have to fear… You Fractured speak of a world of Stars, but you have never walked across those ceaseless dunes. What wanderers of that world would give for a drop of water over a drop of blood.”

The thousands of crystalized bloody spears came showering down on the Impuritas. Large knives protruded from the edges of the spears like the barbs of a rose. Their bodies violently reacted to the presence of her blood. Boils and dark spots appeared on their bodies, for they were incompatible with her blood.

Their bodies were then torn open by an array of crystalized teeth. It was as though their heart had broken free from their bodies. Not all of them had hearts, let alone organs. But the act of opening their bodies was as if they were openly accepting Enoch as their master.

Their speech, their bodily processes, movements – it was all hers. The only thing she couldn’t manipulate was their mind, although few were willing to resist when the risk of having their brains churned was as easy as a snap of a finger.

Furthermore, the blood generated from these infected beings could also be controlled. It was considered a prohibited weapon of war. Its spread was rapid, and there was no known limit to how many could fall under the command of an Honored One.

* * *

To this day there were only three known Honored Ones. One of them actively fought and fueled the Eternal War in southern Emvita. They were called the Last Progenitors.

Their names were respectfully: Bathory the Scarlet Fall; Joan the Red Day; and The Impaler; the latter of which was the warmonger that wreaked havoc on both Demons and Humans in the Eternal War.

* * *

Enoch was different.

Vastly different.

The reaction of her blood with the Impuritas was far more violent compared to the Last Progenitors. Not only that, but the blood she manipulated was utterly flawless. She had no form like The Impaler who could only create blood-lances. Neither was she limited by the amount of blood she needed to consume, like Bathory the Scarlet Fall.

Nor was Enoch fueled by emotions like the Red Day whose powers increased with her emotions.

Enoch was an outlier who was not limited by these restraints. The corridors leading into the Floor of Wrath were dyed red. Pools of shallow blood floated against the walls and the ceiling. It perfectly reflected the carnage in the center like they were an art piece.

“Blood thins out eventually. Keep that in mind.” Enoch finished, and at once, her aloof face returned. “Beholder Descartes 3. Do you think I’ll get in trouble if I leave them here?”

The Star Child beamed as if she had finished watching a performance.

“Do as you wish. You’re not one to run out of mana manipulating this meager amount of blood.” Descartes commented, indifferent to Enoch’s power. “So long as this place is quarantined. The last thing the Nexus needs is an outbreak. But that won’t happen with your level of control.”

“Hmhm.” Enoch hummed to herself. “Oh? How precious. You’re returning this to me? Aren’t you something. An Archetype doesn’t need to show me so much respect.”

The Star Child returned Enoch’s tie. The little girl stood on her toes and began clapping her hands as if to celebrate Enoch’s victory.

“That attitude is the same with all Workers and the Tempered. I haven’t figured out if it’s a false display of humility or a virtue.”

It seemed like Descartes was suddenly interrogating her. But in truth, it was her way of telling Enoch to stop devaluing herself. Of course, nothing could break through the skin of a Tempered Aspirator like her, but still, Descartes gave her a piece of her mind.

“I truly mean it. We’re in the presence of an Archetype. How can I not kiss the floor they walk on?” Enoch grinned. “Best that we don’t speak in front of them. Although, I’ve already disabled their senses except for pain.”

“Is that so?” Descartes uttered to herself, folding her hands again as she stood by Enoch’s side.

A minute passed. Then, minutes. Eventually, fifteen minutes passed. Enoch glanced at Descartes with a perplexed look.

“Er… With all due respect –”

“I am keeping an eye on you. Don’t mistake it for mistrust. Whether you find it uncomfortable is none of my concern. If you need, I can erase my presence.”

Enoch wryly smiled. Her face said: “That’ll only make things worse.”

Still, Enoch couldn’t help but feel happy. She wasn’t generally accepted by the Beholders when she first arrived. Her existence was like a taint to them, hence why she usually avoided the Beholders unless it was necessary. Of course, there were a few exceptions like Galia and Jury.

It brought distasteful memories of a distant past.

“Enoch. Good work. You did it flawlessly. Would you consider working with CogitO for once?”

“So I was being scouted in the end, huh?”

“Hah.”

Enoch’s eyes widened.

Did Descartes just laugh?

Surely, she heard wrong.

But when she looked to her side, she clearly saw a smiling Descartes. It was rare enough to see her in a quasi-good mood, let alone wear a smile. Enoch didn’t know what to make of it.

The Star Child smiled up at the two. She began to draw something. But before she could finish, Descartes received a message.

“The invasion is nearly over. The Archetype of Ego has the last batch with her. Librarians, she writes. There are still strays around the Nexus, but they’ll be dealt with shortly. We can afford to stay here for several hours. Hm? O Star Child? Are you offering us a drink?”

The drawing of the child depicted a tiny chibi girl holding a tray of iced beverages for who she believed was herself and Enoch. Descartes adored it. Besides, it would be disrespectful to decline the offer.

“I would advise that you do it after this is over. Preferably with the escort of multiple Moons.”

The Star Child happily nodded as she waited by their side.