Chapter 62: Arc 5: Black Blasphemy (2)

Carolina didn’t understand the reason she answered honestly. The relationship between her and Elizabeth La Louve was built on twenty percent schadenfreude, seventy percent rivalry, with the remaining quantity being actual meager respect.

Maybe it was a purely selfish reason which pushed her decision. Having her biggest rival and nemesis keeled over like a weakling would reflect badly on her. Carolina grimaced at the thought of suffering such humiliation.

It was why she gave a helpful answer.

“Life is already hard enough before you assign labels on it,” Carolina said. “What is good and evil, anyway? Can it be measured? Can they fill stomachs?” She shrugged. “I’m just doing what I need to survive and thrive. Why should I feel shameful about it?”

“That’s it?” Betty said, hardly believing the sheer audacity of her rival. “Are you really saying this after causing two catastrophic disasters that destroy nations?”

“Two?” Carolina retorted. “You and Hunter are the main party responsible for Etaceh’s rise in Curtis. I’m just trying to live my life. I won’t argue that my involvement screwed Eleanor, but knowing the hellhole it was, do you think that is a bad thing?”

Honestly, Betty believed Carolina had a point about Eleanor.

“That is why you are fine with everything you are?” Betty said. “Don’t you feel you are letting people down.”

Carolina found herself laughing at the suggestion.

“Letting people down?” Carolina repeated the question. “You think the people are upset about me letting them down? Really? Betty. You are upset over fixing what can’t be fixed or even want to be fixed. Why don’t you go back to Curtis and look at how the people there are doing?”

Betty didn’t know how to respond.

After a few minutes of silence and running out of response, Betty asked Carolina one last question.

“Where are you going now?” Betty said.

“Montgomery,” Carolina said. “I can’t afford to stay still, Elizabeth.”

…

Betty went to the Residence’s [Workshop] for a shortcut back home.

“I want to go back to Curtis,” Betty said.

“Want me to come with you?” Ciel replied, trying to understand her conflict, but couldn’t because.

Betty was expecting more possessive replies, but Ciel wasn’t that type. 

The Unity Lord was making another weapon to add to the endless amount of tool he created as a hobby. Ever since Eleanor fell, Ceil had been amassing ideas and tools for the eventual showdown with Etaceh. Caislean was there too, helping him with the weapon manufacturing.

Xia and Hikari were commandeering the Residence with Amy, trying to keep supply stock up and investigating where to invest to prevent funding from being an issue. War was bad for cookies and their brand had been suffering from Etaceh’s campaign across the continent.

For Betty, it was like a world of eggshells. Amy kept mostly to herself. Hikari remained ever so professional and Caislean kept shrinking like an introvert in the showroom. Xia expertly ran the joint, but she was never the life of the party. Infact, the reality Xia was ahead of everyone in the romance department just made things more awkward. Despite being Xia’s little sister, Betty felt more alone than ever.

Ciel knew what was going on, but he was too awkward to do anything but provided emotional support.

“No,” Betty politely refused. “I will be fine.”

…

The master gate deposited her outside the town of Janus. Once upon the time Ciel and the former grand artificer of the Magic Kingdom, Holmes, spent time on stakeout here.

Elizabeth had mixed feelings about this town. It was where Ciel truly grew at the artificer, and a place she struck a friendship with him. However, it was the same place which began her descent into the downward spiral of her life.

Betty would love to drown in her memories, but the reality was more alarming.

The Janus she knew was a busy suburban town of the picturesque fountain and street of stalls. It was a perfect pit stop for the visitor aiming to go to the Magic Kingdom’s capital city of Hecate.

This Janus wasn’t the same anymore.

...

The street, once lined with brick, was now decorated with metal railings. Animal automatons patrolled the roads instead of its fresh and blood version. The brick houses traditional to Curtis were amid upgrading. Construction sites rose during Betty's absence with the goal of repainting the landscape with silvery metals. The trees dotting the street remained as she remembered, but an industrial metal fence had risen to marshall the image of the town.

Betty would love to see some resistance — maybe some people protesting on the street to prevent a steel cathedral from replacing the brown brick forming their tradition.

No such luck. The people of Janus welcomed the change in their new silvery clothing.

Betty absorbed the change in dumb silence and began searching for the reason all of this had happened.

…

“Oh, you used to live here a few months ago and are surprised how everything changes?” The woman, the baker, answered Betty’s question. She was taking the cake Betty had ordered out of the oven.

Betty felt uncomfortable. This was originally a cute traditional cake shop when she was in Janus the last time. Now it had changed beyond all recognition. Artifacts had come over and refurbished the entire place. The baker forgoes traditional oven and handmade baking with self-adjusting artifacts and automatic ingredient mixer. Betty felt the world she knew was being eroded by Etaceh like a surge of river wiping away the shoreline.

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“I am surprised at how much everything has changed,” Betty said.

“It must have been a shock,” the baker laughed while packing the cake. “The Prime Intelligentsia planned to upgrade every town in the nation. The Magic Tower has been coming here to incorporate artifacts into every inch of Janus.”

Betty paused, “Don’t you feel uncomfortable? I mean Curtis was transformed into a Research Empire overnight, and now we are at war with Eleanor and Montgomery.”

“We are?” The baker blinked. “Oh yes, I think something like that happened.” She shrugged. “I admit I am shocked to hear what happened in the capital. Dreadful, isn’t it? The betrayal by the King and the death of Miss Elizabeth.” The baker frowned. “I don’t know why, but you resemble her.”

Betty felt a pang in her chest. The baker must have seen her before, but her statement presents the bitter reality. Maybe it was done through propagandists’ mind-trick or magical mind-numbing machine that rewrote some part of their hippocampus. The result was undeniable. In the citizen's mind, Elizabeth La Louve was gone. Betty could be standing here in a royal garb and the people would still believe she had died.

“What about the Dark Witch?” Betty held to her last hope some of her legacy had survived in the consciousness of the people

“The Dark who?” The baker handed her the cake while demolishing the last bastion of Betty’s heart.

…

Betty contemplated the post-Curtis nightmare at the only part of Janus she still recognized — the fountain in the middle of the town.

The walk to this familiar solace had been painful. She watched everything she knew and loved being torn down to build the metal temples for Etaceh — these fabrication centers. The children who used to come and cheer her along were dressed in the dull gray uniform, marching to the house of brick, crystal and gray metal of Etaceh-certified ‘schools.’ Folks who used to ask her for beauty tips and auto-graphs ignored her very existence in favor of their newfound purpose in the fabrication centers springing around the towns.

Etaceh bit into her industrially baked cake, mulling over the result of her absolute defeat. Carolina was right. There was no point mulling over Curtis because Curtis didn’t want to go back. Society had fully embraced their new identity as Advanced Research Empire Intelligentsia. Betty might hate what this small part of her former country had become, but life was on the up for everyone else.

The Magic Tower provided employment, education, convenience, and healthcare. Etaceh might see the people as another point to add to her faith supplies, but she also treasured them as a cherished resource. Betty had toured the town and sensed the growing energy. She did not know whether life was better under the previous regime or Etaceh, but the people seemed to feel no different. The technological marvel Etaceh gave the nation alone gave her credential to rule.

Betty knew she had no way to contest against Etaceh’s gift. Even if she defeated her hated nemesis, she couldn’t win back the people’s love. Looking at the boon Etaceh given this slice of Intelligentsia, it was likely any change in ruler would cause an uprising.

This return to Curtis presented Betty with the reality she tried to deny — beating the Lord of Mechanical Magic won’t rewind time. Etaceh had successfully transformed the nation's soul into her image. It would be impossible for Elizabeth La Louve to return to her former glory.

From the sensible point of view, it would be better if the majestic Elizabeth La Louve — the beautiful flowers of Curtis ‘died’ as she did. Her death was perfect. Elizabeth passed away with her ‘friend,’ inheriting her ‘will’, destroying her ‘murderer’, and pushing the nation to a greater height under her name. She had to remain as a beautiful memory in the history of Acceltra — the perfect virgin princess too pure for this sinful earth.

Betty wanted to laugh. How could she explain the people when she — by some miracle — killed Etaceh, resumed her reign and fell short of the unrealistic expectation people had for ‘Saint Elizabeth’. They probably insisted she was an impostor and dethroned her in a week.

Elizabeth La Louve had died, so who was she now?

Betty would have mulled the question past the afternoon into the nightfall if not for the siren.

The once peaceful town was panicking. People were running around all-over the place, either going to their house to hide or grabbing weapons in their houses.

Betty was confused until one officer in Magic Tower’s uniform rushed in to inform the town-square.

“Anyone that can fight assemble in the field!” the officer said. “The raiders are attacking.”

Betty blinked as the crowd began running around.

Raiders? There weren’t any raiders during her era in Curtis.

Betty finished her cake and ran to observe what was going on

…

The attack was far worse than Betty expected.

The Raider was winning. They were well-organized with a unit of Aura-users on horse-back supported by the squadron of mages. Despite the defenders being armed with weapons, automatons, and artifacts supplied by Magic Tower’s industrial complex, they were poorly trained and were caught by surprise. The arrow-head of Aura-user broke past the line of defenders and began cutting down the town’s defender. 

Betty watched people being struck down. The few metal automatons aiding the defender were bashed to scrap by the conflict, failing to contribute anything meaningful. A bloody man had his arm amputated and stomach slashed open before falling right before her eyes. The death was graphic, but Betty couldn’t look away. Something else preoccupied her mind. She recognized the man leading this bloody assault.

She should have known the moment she saw the ‘raiders.’ These weren't barely trained bandits in tough times; they were career soldiers. They might dress in gray colors, but Betty recognized their weapon. The mages were assembled in the formation of Eleanorian resistance members. The cavalry of Aura-users sported a long cavalry sword brandished with the ease of a seasoned unit from the Papal White State Montgomery’s White Army.

These were trained military men — remnant or resistance from neighboring nations — dressed like a bandit to attack an innocent town. Worst of all, they were led by a leader who knew the terrain like the back of his hand.

The raiders had massacred the defender to the last man, and began riding into the city with swords and torches raised high. They rode right past Betty and into Janus, ignoring her like she was a nobody.

Betty couldn’t care about that, and she knew they wouldn’t either. They had a bigger priority, and so did she.

Hunter Westerna — Curtis’s former Commissioner of the Military Police, the killer of her father, and the disgrace national hero — was in front of her, riding high on a war horse. His left arm was still missing, leaving empty sleeves flying in the wind. A squad of men in gray cloak rode around him, watching Elizabeth La Louve with steely eyes.

The two haven’t met since they parted ways before the failed attempt to remove Etaceh.

Both of them were the splitting image of each other. People who had lost their purpose, and left behind by the people they once defended.

Betty should have sympathized with Hunter. She should have a wall of text to speak, yet only one question was visible in her mind.

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