Chapter 82: 83. Trusting the…. Devil?

Frost, Carpalis and Magus drowned in each other’s company for the next 5 hours, all the while Cer emptied the casino slot machines right under their noses. The lack of fatigue and drowsiness was an anomaly shared between them all.

The casino saw many begin to leave as the hours went by, and before long, it was only a handful of people who remained, glued to the slot machines like their lives depended on it.

This was the perfect opportunity for Frost to learn much about the Beholders, Ateliers, and the state of the world itself. Additionally, and depending how things went, it would also serve to deepen her trust with this Beholder and her Atelier, although to what degree depended entirely on Carpalis’s motives alone.

Similarly, Carpalis wished to understand Frost more. The Beholder was a businesswoman first and foremost. One with countless years carved into her back, no less.

An exchange of equal proportions needed to be made, although, Frost did have the better outcome as the Amalgam and as the one Carpalis yearned to establish a firm relationship with.

Not with her contracts thankfully. Carpalis could not use her technology on the Archetypes to begin with anyway. Frost and Magus seemed to possess some sort of innate immunity against whatever binding power her Faustian Bargain boasted.

Carpalis mentioned that a person’s soul determined whether a binding contract could be made or not, as her technology quite literally took either a piece or all of a person’s soul.

Every citizen within the Golden Index had their soul partially taken once they were finally inducted as one of their personnel, whereas her most esteemed few had their souls encased within the gemmed rings on her golden hand.

And while this power could not affect her, it did not detract from the fact that she was strong.

No. Strong could not even begin to describe these Beholders.

To Frost’s advantage, they were both in a cold war of sorts. Neither could easily gauge each other’s power or strength. Carpalis was also under the assumption that Frost carried a similar strength to the Arbiter who easily wiped out 20 of her Exalted.

For reference, the Exalted were mostly non-Blessed beings with levels that ranged between 120 – 130 and primarily focused on worldly interactions on behalf of the Beholders. They were hired arms essentially, anointed by a Beholder that had favored them to serve directly under their Atelier.

The Golden Index was known to house nearly all of the Exalted. Many other Ateliers did not even have a single Exalted serving them either. Additionally, there were level 200, Blessed Exalted who operated independently, providing anomalous services for the Nexus when requested.

That aside –

– The one deal that was closed between Frost and Carpalis was the protection of her rescued friends and to leave their soul as it is. In return, Frost agreed to help her with realizing her wish which was no more than to make people ‘smile’.

Or in other words, to help people. To stop people from dying and falling into despair.

“I want to see people… laugh. Smile… be happy. But they must understand that despair is of the same coin. When you gamble your coins or your life away there is a certain euphoria before the inevitable fall. We are beings of greed… and I am perpetually trapped in that fall. I always despaired that false euphoria. Frost. Can you make people happy from the bottom of their hearts?”

It was a strange request. One that left her oddly silent for some time as she tried to process this. As the Beholder belonging to the Archetype of Hope it perhaps made some sense, but it brought into question just what exactly happened to Carpalis throughout her long life to wish for but only one thing.

A tragedy, no doubt…

“… this city… I am essentially it’s heart, wouldn’t you say? Hehe… no. I’m really not. There are… plenty underneath our Nex Megalopolis. But if you plan to eat me, then please know that over a hundred thousand will die upon my death… That is the downside of my Faustian Bargain. Our lives are intertwined… quite a tangle, hm? Ahaha.”

Beholder Carpalis revealed in an unthreatening manner, merely wanting Frost to understand this.

“I am their hope… and I am their despair. The hand that gives, and the hand that takes. My life and all its value are tied to theirs. Without them, I’d be worth nothing. As usual. Haha…”

“Don’t call it nothing when you’ve been invited to the Eternal Library. I don’t really know much about you, but at least you can still laugh… and smile.” Frost spoke semi-casually, a little more at ease in this woman’s presence as they sat around the poker table. “Carpalis. Are all Beholders…” She trailed off, trying to find a word to supplement ‘broken’ but to no avail.

Carpalis easily picked up on this and pointed at herself.

“Like me? No… they have already lost themselves… I am just on the cusp of it. Other than I there is Beholder Galia. I’ve only seen the others above a handful… haha… of times. Beholder Marduk used to be a human at one point. I hardly recognize the man anymore. Beholder Marionette never had limbs and she’s hoisted like a puppet to the whims of fate itself… with her own unsnippable strings no less. It is all very ironic… don’t you think?”

“Is that why they refuse to make needed changes in this world? That they’re too shattered to do anything anymore?” Frost spoke judgingly, her voice becoming increasingly louder. “Does that necessarily make them incapable of standing by and watching countless suffer!?”

This one was somewhat difficult for Carpalis to answer because there was no one true answer to begin with. It was a meld of necessity as some Ateliers required the power of others like how nearly everyone utilized Galia’s Warped Stone. Then there was the threat of total mutual destruction should a war ever break loose, and wars themselves much like the ones that led to the rise of the Nexus 150 years ago.

To summarize, the direct involvement of a Beholder would only invite devastation onto the world; the same with the Moons, Stars and high-levelled Exalted. This reasoning alone wasn’t easy for Frost to wrap her mind around.

However, the very fact that these Beholders were partially… broken added a layer of unpredictability.

The strongest needed to be restrained and utilized only when necessary… and yet it was exactly that which they failed to do, as she saw in Divas Pass.

When Frost questioned Carpalis about this, the woman only shook her head and answered:

“Scarlet Logic are… known to be ruthless. Straight to the mission point. But there are times when allowing others to live is detrimental. Especially with the Corrupted. Do you remember the incident with the Big Red Heart?”

“I’m afraid not!” Magus exclaimed. “I was born too late to witness this event!”

“The one that destroyed H5?” Frost asked, hearing of this rumor once from the triplets.

“Haha… yes. When the Scarlet Logic Personnel arrived, they allowed many to pass into the surrounding Sectors. There was empathy in their hearts years ago. It turned out that the Big Red Heart was a Corrupted that toyed with people’s heart like a disease… have you seen a parade of bouncing hearts? All bursting from the chest of people? Hehe… I thought mine would. They could have saved countless if they executed everyone on sight. Instead, they nearly lost two more Sectors as a result of letting these people live. Have you seen the heart of an infant? It's quite… tiny. Like a little bouncing ball. It rolls like a little marble… so cute.”

“Their… attempt to save people is ultimately what costed the lives of many more. Can they really blame themselves when they didn’t know?” Frost had to wonder, realizing that this was the reason why the Midnight Team did not step in.

But at the same time, the Hungry were a well-known threat. They surely must have some sort of system in place to differentiate what can and cannot be saved. They already had the Arbiter’s Trumpet, and yet they still let them all die.

And in the end, the Big Red Heart disappeared, most likely somewhere deep into the Derma layer. When she asked Carpalis about this place she only stated that it was where people sometimes disappeared to on mass and never returned; and where certain, powerful people emerged.

One such person was the Red Barron, the Incandescent Color known for their flaming might. It was largely unknown what truly laid beneath other than the hearts as those that ventured into the Derma layer including Moons and late Beholders themselves.

Needless to say, they were never heard from again.

It also did not help that one could not enter this place by boring a hole straight down. A spatial distortion needed to connect the two spaces, or one needed to descend through one of the open pores at night.

Then, not even the Deities of the Nexus knew what fate awaited.

“… tch. So that’s the state of the world. Holding back because there’s so much even the Beholders don’t know. And the Icon of Judgement was the tipping point. Everyone hates each other, but they also need each other just in case of another Paradise Lost event. Fuck sakes…” Frost growled, causing Magus to flail his hands as if trying to calm her down but to no avail.

“Violence may very well be the answer.”

I sincerely hope not… but this is probably where I’m supposed to step in. Because I know things they don’t. My knowledge may very well help fix this but then again…

“The Ateliers are likely to have other motives in mind, hence the friction between them.”

Exactly. At least now I can be at ease around Carpalis knowing she’s ‘normal’. But I feel a little sorrow towards her. She really does sound broken.

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“Demons, like Healers, were persecuted. Likely worse if she had found herself in these lands far away from the continent of Zelmori.”

Carpalis smiled, frowned, and then smiled again. It felt like she could read their minds just at a single glance, a testament of her boundless wisdom over the countless years she had remained alive and sane, for the most part.

She scooted closer to Frost, her chair scraping along the carpeted floor until she was right next to her. The woman was much taller than Frost realized, and her head only reach up to her shoulder. Her looming smile was uncanny, yet somewhat beautiful.

Magus, perhaps not wanting to feel left out, also scooted beside Frost.

“Hey, you’re not thinking of attacking me, are you?” Frost joked, wanting to brighten up the mood as Carpalis shook her head and stared deeply into her eyes like a mother would to a child.

“No… I wouldn’t attack… a friend. I call my Exalted my family… and everyone within my city. You know, there was a close friend I had… who took my hand when she needed it the most. They were strong. They aspired to be surrounded by many like me. But she bit the very same hand that helped her and slipped into the depths of despair.”

Carpalis spoke fondly of this person despite her past, tapping at her missing shoulder with an exhausted grin before adding:

“When I fell back from the well clutching at my protruding bone and watched her fall deep into the recesses of our world… all I could do was wonder where I went wrong, because nothing ever went right… Haha. Sorry. What I mean to say is that despair and hope are interchangeable, because it is the same hand that gives, and the one that takes… as I’ve painfully learnt.”

She concluded as a macabre air swept through this isolated place of floating cards and strange, golden lights. Like the Wandering Healers, it was impossible for Frost to understand what they went through that ultimately led to them becoming what they now were. The Wandering Healers were a perverted, twisted version of ‘healers’, whereas Carpalis was…

Was what?

Was she twisted? No. Frost didn’t think so. But as the woman said; she was close. It inadvertently caused Frost to want to help her. Seeing someone so broken tugged at her heart strings and to her surprise, Carpalis shut her eyes and pushed her knee close to hers as if yearning to feel her warmth.

“… my golden hand is so cold despite being the one thing that connects me to everyone.” She said, as if lamenting this.

“Madame Carpalis! If it was warmth you so require, then allow me to offer you my most benevolent body!” Magus almost jumped from his seat, offering his card-like head to the woman who leaned over Frost with her… assets hovering dangerously close to her face.

She wore an apple-scented perfume, and perhaps even tasted like one as she stated earlier.

… this woman really doesn’t have a sense of personal space. But she’s not that bad at all. Rather… she’s more like a victim in all this madness. I didn’t think the Beholders would be so saddening. I thought they’d be completely ruthless. Complete megalomaniacs. It’s tragic.

“It is a recurring theme, no? Power is not gained freely. If it is, then expect there to be some form of consequence.” Nav pointed out as Carpalis pinched the side of Magus’ face, trying to stretch the card-like material.

“It doesn’t stretch…” Carpalis sadly said, almost as if she was about to shed tears at this revelation.

“I… am of no use? As Hope itself!?” This shattered the man as he slumped back into his seat defeatedly.

“Frost… what about you?” Carpalis kindly asked.

“Hm? Oh, sure. Go for it.” She accepted with little internal debate, understanding the kind of love Carpalis required.

Being a Beholder meant that she had to remain secluded for the most part, so there was little opportunity for her to experience the warmth of others.

“Just don’t pull them apart. And by the way… you never told me about the Hearts. The Hungry you all call are actually named the Crimson Hunger.” Frost added, right as Carpalis touched her face and to her surprise, the woman’s eyes lit up.

Likely because of the Touch of the Black Dove… it’s a nostalgic warmth.

“Hearts… ah… the Hearts. We don’t quite know. They were a recent threat that arrived shortly after the rise of the First Advent. But it is possible that they are somehow connected to us. The Hungry always struck me as similar to the Scarlet Logic.”

She revealed a similar train of thought she had, and while unconfirmed, it was more than enough to convince her that they were indeed connected in some way.

“What do you want Frost?” The woman suddenly asked from out of the blue.

“People. I want to help people. Nothing more, and nothing less. Aside from wanting to snuff out the light of a certain Star. But to do this, I need to keep searching for the Corrupted. Now that I’m here I’d like to start talking with the other Ateliers just like this. Figure what lays deeper in this mess, get stronger and then –” Frost snapped her fingers. “Return to Grandis to finish off that piece of shit Iscario.”

“Vengeance. How honorable! I’d help you but as you can see, I am but a fledging Archetype!” Magus proclaimed.

“The Ateliers… you first need to carry notable renown to speak with them directly.” Carpalis added, still playing with Frost’s face…

Frost had to wonder how Jury would react if she so happened to see this. She had to see this Beholder as a patient to justify allowing her to touch her so freely, although if her hand did happen to touch elsewhere then nothing would be left.

She ended up sighing, trying to hide her smirk at that corny pun.

“The Black Dove has inherent meaning, but it requires proof. Aha… Black Dove is fitting for a healer that eats and fight. Please don’t bite my hand. I won’t be able to point you to a place that can help.” She pleaded, right before smiling… instead of creepily, Frost now saw it as somewhat endearing.

Cute in a bizarre kind of way.

“A newly arisen dungeon appeared in D3 a few days ago. It’s a Monsoon-levelled dungeon. A stroll in the rain. Ah haha. Get it? Sorry. The Ateliers don’t like listening to others, so only the Guilds can help. But you’re in luck because I partially control them… I just need you to prove your strength. Get your name out there. Become a legend like an Incandescent Color.” She finally removed her hand and looked somewhere far underneath past the transparent floor.

She then added:

“That way they’ll let you into their reception… and personally speak to you. If you’re lucky, they’ll recognize the name of the Amalgam. But please do not attack an Atelier. You will likely plunge us all into a total war.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Frost assured her. “Haah. I’m not that violent. I’d rather we keep things civil as much as possible. Just like this.”

“Civil indeed!” Magus exclaimed. “Oh! We have some esteemed visitors! Oh my! I spot a… a little Amalgam!? On a giant spider!?”

“That’s my Innocent. An entity created by one of my skills… how hasn’t it disappeared yet?” Frost had to wonder as she too looked down to see everyone walk into the near empty lobby of the Carpal Tower.

“The Jesters… Aha… I now have ground to fine them three times the amount for cheating in my own home.” Carpalis cackled, having obviously noticed Cer’s antics right from the beginning.

They were dressed in various outfits, some more revealing than others but they were ‘normal’ for the most part. Save for the bunny-woman who wore the skimpy bunny-suit. Even Snap wore a bowtie, perfect for the occasion.

And thankfully, her pale-haired lover did not wear any of those revealing outfits…

That was until she spotted a certain bowtie on her neck, and with her bird’s eye view, she could see a devilishly black-fabric outfit worn underneath her Mantle of Sin. It caused a rift to open in her heart as both pain and an insurmountable curiosity wracked her chest.

“No… Jury… she’s – she’s become Corrupted.” Frost ended up uttering, deeply wounded by this.

Indeed. What Jury wore underneath her Corrupted attire was a bunny suit.