742. Glimpse of a Star

742. Glimpse of a Star

They riddled her body, causing Frost to nearly jump in to heal her.

However –

“Aaaah... Ahaha... ahahaha... AHAHAHAHAH!” Silica cackled. Serum R had fully devoured her mind, causing her to enter a state of grandeur as she plucked the thorns that should have killed her on the spot.

“They have gone mad. It is a fraction of the pain we bear. This incompleteness –!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA! Ahh... You wouldn’t even know one tenth of what we experienced.” Silica heaved.

They penetrated her heart, lungs, and brain.

Yet she was still very much alive. Her mind was intact, as were her bodily functions.

“It barely did anything...” Frost uttered in disbelief.

Then, she remembered.

“Serum V – Vacuity. You don’t have anything inside of you... Not even a brain...?”

“V for Vacuity, but you can think of it as V for Vessel! Where it all is doesn’t matter! They’ll have to erase us for good if they want to kill us!” Silica could not stop laughing as she zipped from tentacle to tentacle, erasing them with prowess that even the triplets could not match.

After all, the Blood Moons were originally designed to excel in war and only war.

“We’re empty and just as ‘incomplete’ as you are, but you don’t hear us complaining!” Silica resumed her combat.

Even if she could still feel pain, she had lived through so many lives that she had grown used to it.

“What is that magic?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!? Hahaha! Die hungry and stay like that! You accumulated aaaaallllllllll this flesh, and you’re still ‘incomplete’!?” Silica laughed alongside her battle sisters.

Their laughter surrounded the Monarch, whose fingers trembled in hate.

“You don’t know what you are yourself! But you’re looking for it and look what it’s turned you into!”

“How proud of it are you!? You’ve come this far and still haven’t achieved anything!”

“Why are you still craving for so much flesh? Do you think that amassing this many people will make you like them!?”

It was like a million Cers were here. The Vermilion Moons knew how to hook their words under the skin of their enemies. Everything they said came without filter, and there was nothing the Monarch could do but listen.

“Wrathful worms... hateful maggots. You dare eat from the same apple that belongs to us? The Amalgam is all you have now. They are the only thing keeping you ‘complete’. Can you call us different? This Amalgam... will burn everything again.”

In that single moment she realized that the Amalgam had reached a level that could not be contested any longer.

Not by her. Not by the Impuritas as they were now. The Red Baron internally despaired. The Ankou was already long broken, and the Memory Bistro was no more than a mindless husk thanks to Terrent.

“You are... why are you shining so brightly? You are a destroyer. It makes no sense. The texts we were taught and shown... were they all lies?”

Frost did not listen to a word she said. She took her by the throat and dragged her down into the cavity, causing her body to contort inwards. The Monarch fell into the depths of her own body, and in there, Frost planned to extract every ounce of information from this Heart of the City.

“Terrent. I’m in.” Frost said nonchalantly, still shocked by the magnitude of her Beholder Skill. “I’m in the Heart of the City... Tell me what I need to do now. Let’s finish this quickly, so we can move to the next Hearts.”

It was easy to see how and why Beholders could destroy entire empires by mere proximity.

The flesh around the Lantern unraveled like bandages, revealing many weeping eyes underneath. Its crimson tears pooled into the cavity as waterfalls of blood collapsed all around them.

“It’s ready.” Terrent said. “We will extract this Heart’s memories at once.”

In the center of the cavity was a 2 meter-large heart. It had teeth, fingers, and eyelashes – an abomination of a human’s most prized organ. It quivered in exposure to the red mist and Frost’s presence, like a nocturnal flower shriveling in the sunlight.

“... We could never save ourselves from this hunger.”

“Amalgam... How is it that you are able to deal with your own hunger?”

This voice did not come from the Monarch. It came from the Memory Bistro. It seemed that Terrent had also seen this part of Frost somehow.

Frost simply took a chunk of meat and ate it.

“Like how normal people do it. I’m not looking to combine myself with others to sate my hunger. I just eat when I need to. My hunger isn’t what controls me. You should have realized that this wasn’t the only way. It’s too late to atone. It’s too late to repent. After everything you’ve done... there is only one place for you to go now.”

She didn’t speak harshly to them.

Yet this gentle confirmation of condemnation caused them to despair.

They would have rather that the Amalgam announced her hatred through screams. But to hear her so calm felt like perhaps if they hadn’t antagonized her...

... then maybe, by some slim possibility, she would’ve been willing to help them overcome their infinite hunger and hatred.

This was the conclusion that the Memory Bistro arrived at.