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1016. A Grand Welcome
🕑 Added 2025-06-07 12:31:25 +0000 UTCThe grand welcome was unexpected. Nav could have given her a head’s up, but her library-bound companion did not give a reason as to why she kept her mouth shut.
A surprise, Frost figured. Not entirely unwelcome since she had her apparel with her. Besides, it did not change that she had only arrived at H10 for only one purpose.
“Res. Orth. Thras.”
Frost greeted with a nod.
She met them at the foot of a stretch of silver grass.
It was sprayed with magic to appear like a silver carpet. The magical coating prevented blades of grass from sticking to their boots, as well as preserving the grass itself.
The Branches were sacred grounds.
“Frost.”
Res nodded back, then greeted the figures flanking her.
“Jury. Sister.”
“Greetings.” The twins lacked the same reverence as the Peace Flocks. As expected from a Shell, still, there was a glimmer of intrigue in those sky-blue eyes – the same kind she had seen in Deiman.
However, it was not enough to cause them to act upon it. She kept this observation to herself and made a mental note.
I’ll take a closer look at them afterwards.
“A bit too extravagant, don’t you think?” Frost called to a Justicer.
The hulking man dropped to a knee. It was surprisingly graceful despite his armor easily weighing over half a ton.
“It is blasphemy to go against the words of the Benevolent Galia. Sacral Appraisers have blessed this grass, for a drop of dew is to taint the light of the Archetype of Amalgamation. Less, the Beholder of Time Reverberation.”
“They love to suck up, don’t they?” Cer couldn’t care less about formalities. “You here to guide us in or what?”
“To ‘suck up’ implies a necessity to survive or gain.” Orth spoke in a hushed tone. “Standard procedure.”
Thras continued her train of thought, as though they shared the same mind.
“Only Res knows. Sixty-three hours. Fifteen minutes. Thirty-nine point seven three two five one eight three seconds. Sacral Appraisers – Objective: Decontamination, purification, fractal scrubbing. Accompanied by: Magicalis.”
“I take they prepared well for our arrival. I expect nothing less.” Since there were so many eyes and ears on Frost, she couldn’t put on her regular attitude.
She had to wear her garbs like they were her skin.
“Very well. Lead the way, follower of Galia. Let’s not delay this any further.”
“As you command.”
“A Star fallen further…” Orth whispered.
“… Further asunder. Down, down to the ticking sea.” Thras followed.
“Sis. When were you planning on telling me you were coming? We don’t need letters anymore.”
“Nav has been choppy lately. Give her some slack. And why are you so concerned? Raoul’s my brother too.”
“Too? Heh. Not mine.” Cer spat with vitriol. “He can stay yours.”
She fidgeted with the halo above her head.
Had the onlookers not been any wiser, they would have believed Cer was the daughter of the Amalgam given her hair and fur color. Black on gold was a color combination only seen on the Head, and by extension, her Black Doves and their uniforms.
It was also even easier to mistake Cer for an Angel. If she had wings, then it would have been cemented as fact. Cer kept close to the twins, though her sense of space was off given her new size.
She wasn’t used to looking down on them. Additionally, it had been a while since she last saw them.
Even for Frost.
Sewn Dove
Orth
< Stagnant Healer >
Soul Rank: Black | Atelier: Act X
LEVEL : 100 ORIGIN : Human HP : 1,100 ATT : 0 MAG ATT : 0
ATT DEF : 3,000 MAG DEF : 3,000 MP : 4,500 RESIST : 102 | Shell AGI : 12
Sewn Dove
Thras
< Stagnant Healer >
Soul Rank: Black | Atelier: Act X
LEVEL : 100 ORIGIN : Human HP : 1,100 ATT : 0 MAG ATT : 0
ATT DEF : 3,000 MAG DEF : 3,000 MP : 4,500 RESIST : 102 | Shell AGI : 12
Sewn Dove
< A Healer bound to Act X. Unknown if there are any other existing Sewn Doves. Personality is stuffed into the Healers in the form of Scripts. Strings and a needle then stitch them close. They are imbued with the thread of purpose >
Jury on the other hand, knew them well. They were one of the most prioritized patients of Hora Therapeutics. By chance, the Scripts they followed led them to the 6th Branch a week ago.
A fleeting thought came to Frost’s mind as the ivory double doors of the 6th Branch parted ways with a thunderous click.
Would they have come out of their own volition if they knew Raoul was here?
“They knew.” Nav answered. “But the Scripts are what they abide by. It is their purpose.”
“Ah… Twelve hours. Forty minutes. Seven seconds.” Orth’s head crooked like a creaky gear as she turned to Frost with wide eyes.
“Scripts ordained that we tell you to not intervene with us.”
“Me?” Frost raised a brow.
They refused to respond. Or rather… they simply had no orders to speak.
Their will belonged wholly to Act X.
“Act X and their fu–!”
“Shut up, Cer. We’re on sacred grounds now.” Res growled.
Any attempts to pry out the truth would be met either with failure or would inadvertently worsen their condition.
Frost was aware of the trauma that gripped them, but only Jury knew the extent of it having used the Traumatic Clock to explore their mind.
But Shells were difficult to work with.
For starters, their memories were suppressed, meaning it was almost impossible to latch onto their Nex containing their traumatic memories.
Furthermore, there was no telling what else laid within their minds, or what their hearts even desired.
They wandered into the blinding light, like puppets guided by an invisible string.
That string was something only Frost could perceive.
One cut. One slash that can break through dimensions, and their lives are gone. Just like that. Reminds me of machines with how purpose-driven they are.
“Really? I think it’s a matter of limitation that drives machines to one particular objective.”
*
Four grandeur halls ran in all cardinal directions. A white beam of light illuminated all corners of the interior. Banners and the insignia of a bird, a feather, and a Justica Arm draped from enormous colonnades.
At the end of each wing were mosaic clerestories depicting Galia, and her 12 Apostles. The image of Bartholo, the 6th Apostle of Galia, was etched beside her image like a shadow.
That same person stood in front of the beam of light. It faded with the snap of a finger as dozens of Justicers that stood along the alcoves slammed their Justica Short Arms to the ground, causing hundreds of magical circles to form.
“Heh. The 6th Branch’s specialty.” Cer smirked. “Would’ve been scary for a lone Moon to walk right into one of these bad boys.”
“Never seen this before.” Jury was awed by the beauty of the purple magical circles.
They created a dome that contained Frost, her companions, and the figures who stood in at the Central Relay of the 6th Branch.
One was a Beholder – Galia.
Another a Star – her Apostle.
And the one kneeling on both legs, shackled by Dimensional Chains, was the Fallen Star – Raoul.
[Analyze Target].
Sixth Branch Justicer
< Basic Observation >
< Post-natal and post-adolescent modified humanoid species. The dust of a resonating crystal bolstered their body composition. Highly loyal to the owner of the Warped Stone >
< Skill Analyzed >
< ACTIVE: Close Quarters Decontamination Ritual – Obliterate >
< Our judgement is sound. Their words – nullified by the deafening beats of our tools of justice >
< EFFECT: Mass area of effect Skill. Requires a minimum of 12 Justicers present. Create as many magical circles as there are Justicers across a 100-meter radius. Release a volley of 20 Justica Close Arms per magical circle. Bullets may ricochet around the dome five times >
< COST: Casters gain the [Depleted Ammunition] and the [Severed Benevolence] Status for 5 minutes >
ATT : 2,000 x 10 (Pellet Damage) x 20 (volleys) x (number of Justicers)
Skills such as this was the reason why Ateliers overtook Moons when it came with dealing with Woe of the Fallen Star-classed Corrupted. Though this didn’t come to them as a surprise.
The decimation the 1st Branch depicted through their bombardment, and the way the 2nd Branch ravaged the battlefield like flesh-eating scarabs proved that no lone Moon could dream of taking down an Atelier.
The reason for this arrangement was simply to eliminate Raoul should he attempt to flee.
Everyone present was strong enough to resist the pellet damage, meaning that they would only take up to two digits worth of damage at most.
Aside from the twins, of course.
Frost and her ensemble were mere observers to the procedure.
“We’ve seen this Skill before, Jury. Or something like it. Remember the Peace Flock we met half a year ago? The same ones we ended up saving from the Librarians? Yeah. They had a protective dome that shot crystal bullets.”
“Cool… I want one~” Jury’s tail wiggled.
Frost’s group stood a good ten meters from Raoul. They watched from the side, and even though Res and Cer were present, he did not spare them a single glance. His eyes were held to the sudden flash of light that burst from behind Galia like fireworks.
“Refrain from taking shortcuts with the Fallen Star.” Galia began. “My Judges (Great Grey Owl), my Jurors (Jackdaw), and my Executors (Cormorant) are ill-prepared to pass a fair trail to a Star of depraved fallings. With the witness being the Head herself, and her very Eye and Fang, there is no need to bring forth the Auditor.”
Galia smirked. She violated Raoul in a thousand ways with that one gaze, and the Star – whose body resembled a shivering, beaten and chained wolf – remained eerily still.
The Wolf Who Never Could
Raoul
< The Fallen Star >
Soul Rank: Incandescent | Affiliation: Nil
LEVEL : 220 ORIGIN : Unrealized HP : 320,000 ATT : 5,200 MAG ATT : 5,200
ATT DEF : 3,500 MAG DEF : 3,500 MP : 60,000 RESIST : 200 AGI : 85
His stats are very impressive for a Star. That reminds me. He went through a partial Corruption. That explains his Level and his title. Unrealized, huh. Could he have also Crystalized his Ego?
< He rejected your Will, and willingly took Elysia’s embrace. However, it entirely possible that he alone dove into his Shadows, but not deep enough to drown him. Had he accepted your Will, it is possible that he would have become the Wise Black Wolf instead. Cer’s words. Not mine >
