577. The Map of Grandis
It exceeded Frost’s expectations. Every written blip was etched into her mental map the moment she peered into the map of Brandar. Everything that existed along the highways was detailed on the map, including several known sightings of Corrupted.
Unfortunately, Autumn did not possess a map of Paradise Lost as there were no highways that passed through its lands. The highway terminated here in Aquagale Solitude. A great, dividing wall and several descents down cliff-faces were required if she wanted to reach the ruins of Puritas according to the map.
“The Bellum Empire looks like it’s doing well for itself.” Frost commented, impressed by how more settlements could be found within their territory.
Then, her eyes drifted to the north.
They easily believed me when I said I came from the North. It must have something to do with that warning. If I ask what’s happening up there then I’ll look suspicious. But then again, I might as well ask anyway. It’s not like I’ll be seeing anyone from this city again.
But Frost didn’t need to ask. Autumn did the honors for her.
“You ran away from a Corrupted, didn’t you? I was suspicious. No one I knew was talking about the highway closures and such. But those people also lived through Paradise’s fall so they probably don’t want anyone to get too curious. Is that really what happened up there?”
“It’s a lot worse than you think if even I was driven out.”
“So there’ll be a mass exodus soon maybe. Or it probably already has happened. Smuggler’s Pass has seen a lot of activity lately. I tried going up there once, but those damned Arcane towers just started shooting all of a sudden.” She complained, taking back her map as she gave Frost a parting smile. “My side of the deal’s done! I’m still irked that you want to go to those ruins but hey, who can stop you? Now then, go get ‘em!”
“I’ll be on my way then. Thanks for the map. It’s interesting how the Bellum Empire might be the last of its kind.” Frost mused before finally making her departure.
The eyes of the receptionist were glued to her back. Noises of a pen scratching on paper was the last thing Frost heard as she was swallowed by the chaotic ambience of the city.
* * *
If they’re that well off, then what’s the need for a Healer? There wasn’t an explicit reason for it to begin with. It was written vaguely from what Acedia claimed. It was also mostly just a list of interested buyers. The Bellum Empire was one of the few that didn’t send someone to personally receive a Healer.
“They were cautious from the start. But they had already invested a large number of coins in advance despite this. It comes across as desperate.” Nav pointed out.
“So are the Impuritas. They need the Healers for their cerebrospinal fluids. I won’t chalk up the Bellum Empire being any different until I see it myself.”
Frost wondered if that Empire was any different from here. She went around Aquagale gathering information from whoever seemed likely to answer, which was anyone since Scrutiny was able to silently strongarm them.
It didn’t matter if they were common folk or the strongest, most armed men in a tavern. Where she walked was her domain. The drunk was instantly sobered by her presence; the furious were calmed and the most arrogant spoke clearly to answer her questions.
As it turned out, no one here had actually visited the Bellum Empire. The only way there was to travel far north or to cross the ruins of Paradise, only to follow a road plagued with Corrupted, death and all sorts of tragic ends.
The people here lived in a world of their own. They were so isolated that their news of the world came from unreliable gossip and canards. Some even believed that the Bellum Empire had already fallen. Others were not even aware of the disappearance of the new capital of Puritas – Infernis – which had recently disappeared.
In the end, Frost was left with nothing but news riddled with quotation marks.
There was no point in overstaying her welcome.
The only news that mattered was about the Mad Slippers.
“It’s a Corrupted that compels strong people to wear it. An entire cult has been made around it who seek to help it find its rightful owner.”
And who do you think that’s going to be? Frost asked Nav sarcastically.
“You, of course. A funny ‘coincidence’.”
Frost normally would have also called it funny too, but having been associated with so many things that coincidentally fitted her became something she had grown to despise. Frost was Frost. She internally assured herself that this was true, but it was if everything in this world wanted her to be someone else.
She paid these emotions no further thought as she left through the southern city gates without a hitch.
“You there!”
Or so she thought.
“No darling. If I were then wouldn’t be so invested. I’m more curious. I’m a seeker of opportunity, not a blade that gets swung around.” The old woman knocked on his armored forearm. “This is why I like the new generation. They’re less drawn to be a pack of hounds.”
“It’s because those people never experienced the hell we’ve been through. If it weren’t for us, then they’d be shoveling shit for another Empire, like that cursed Bellum scum. Never forget who they backed.”
He gazed at the front doors to the Office with palpable hatred. It felt as if the door would break under his immense pressure. It swung open as soon as the old woman placed a hand on its cold surface. She didn’t want to have to replace the door, which would undoubtedly come at her own expense.
“The Solemn Paw~” She hummed as they entered. “As per usual. Who did Autumn bring this time? Were they interesting? Please tell me they’re someone I can learn a thing or two from~”
“Enough of your nonsense, hag. You. Speak.”
The receptionist immediate slipped a written document onto the counter as if she had been anticipating their arrival.
“The person you’re seeking is more than likely a Blessed. I didn’t sense any mana emanating from her and she was able to use magic. Normally that’s not enough because she chanted, but this puts her on the same level of a suspected Corrupted.” The receptionist claimed.
“... what nonsense –!”
“Quiet you. Let mages discuss this.”
The old woman dismissed the man with a raised hand, infuriating him to no end as he was barely able to hold himself back from lashing out.
“No mana but she could use magic? Are you certain?”
The receptionist finally stood, revealing her brown eyes that suddenly revealed a small, blue glow. Inscriptions were written along her irises, reminding them of the fact that she was able to detect mana unlike many.
“My eyes have never lied to me. Like your Recording Eye has never failed you.”
The old woman’s emerald eyes glistened as she smirked to herself, taking a seat on a nearby bench.
“Ooh. That feels better. Hm. If I were awake at the time then I could’ve confirmed it myself. But no matter. I just need to see her once to see if they’re a Corrupted or not.”
“Preposterous. Human Corruption? We’re dealing with a Blessed. That’s what matters the most. To think they’d be setting foot into Grandis again... Could she be the reason for the Hungry that was discovered?” The man was jumping through so many loops that the old woman had to huff her pipe twice as long as she usually did.
“Aren’t you jumping to conclusions too soon?” She asked.
“Those Blessed never tried to save us. They left us to die – to rot here on our own –!”
“Tell that tale to someone who doesn’t know. You and I know how we treated them too. It would be wiser to welcome them with open arms. Let’s raise the curtains then close them. We don’t need an encore. Hmm. It would be nice to see Grandis lose the need for new dogs like us.”
The man smashed his fist against the wall, sending cracks along its surface. The walls were made of reinforced bricks; a testament to his strength. He had enough of this and stormed out the door, shoulder barging it with such immense force that it too cracked.
“Damned hag!” He roared on his way out.
The silence replaced his presence. The receptionist bundled her hair together to form a ponytail as she stared solemnly at the old woman.
“Master. Will you be ok out there?” She asked worriedly.
“I’ll be fine. My calling is elsewhere.” The old woman assured, but the receptionist didn’t seem convinced.
“Are you still looking for him? Your grandson?”
Finally, that permanent, smug grin that lingered on the old woman’s face turned into one of warmth and irredeemable agony.
“My journey begins and ends with them.” She said, standing up. “That’s why it’s important that you keep letting me know who leaves and enters. That Blessed person could be a key to finding them for all I know.”
“Isn’t dangerous to put your hopes on them? When they could be dangerous?”
“Look at me young Iris. I’m withered and old. Weathered and shaped by countless years. I’m closer to death than most in Grandis. Desperation comes when time is no longer in your favor.” She imparted her wisdom onto the receptionist, believing that the Blessed was perhaps her last chance.
“Prepare my things. I’ll be setting course to Paradise Lost by tomorrow morning. I only hope that Autumn does not get swept into the storm that approaches.”