On the eve of that night, the grim reaper stalked the streets of the ruins of Puritas. The territory where the vagrants conglomerated, and where the Cult of the Mad Slippers called home once belonged to the 8th Order.

The 8th Order was a House that focused on the trade and economic stability of Puritas. Of course, their methods involved bloodied hands and drawn swords rather than pen and paper.

The Order’s of Puritas went as follows according to information Frost gathered from various inns and taverns of this province.

The 1st Order was Puritas itself.

The 2nd Order – The Knights of the Pale, who were Puritas’ most loyal hounds and zealous fighting force.

The 3rd Order – The Watchers; a massive surveillance House that oversaw the rest of the Orders.

The 4th Order – Deliverance; a courier-based House that also dealt with internal and external affairs diplomatically as Puritas’ missionaries.

The 5th Order – The Cross of Flames, the purifiers of heretics that carried fire-based weaponry to torch down settlements that were deemed impure.

The 6th Order – Written Hail, the House that served as Puritas’ judiciary system. They were the ones who accused the innocent of the sin of eating the forbidden fruit; who carried scrolls of blood carrying the nonsensical sins of those they had already predefined as evil.

The 7th Order – Pale Memento; a House that managed the records of the dead and their disposal. It is unknown how connected they were to the Corpse Snatchers, or as Frost guessed, the Memento Mori.

The 8th Order – The Central Exchange; was Puritas’ economic powerhouse and where trade mostly occurred within and beyond the kingdom. This was why vagrants flocked to this place. Even after its death the purpose it once served continued to live on in perpetuity.

The 9th Order – Sword of Puritas; the main fighting force of Puritas that consisted of nobility and the conscripted masses. Multiple specialized forces were also involved within the 9th Order, such as assassins, spies, mercenaries, etcetera.

The 10th Order – Crystal Pale; a magic-oriented House that had no real focus other than research and development, both for civil and military purposes. They were also highly involved in the experimentations of Healers in their efforts to find the secrets of Healing magic as well as the management of all slaves.

The 11th Order – Calm Water; Puritas’ naval House that prevented Demonic incursions from the southern seas.

The 12th Order – Pale Feather Atelier; a House that developed and distributed weapons based on their Minor Gift. It was not currently known if truly they possessed a Minor Gift or was one comparable to that of the Beholders. Additionally, its effects were not properly understood, but it likely was what made so many revere the words of the King.

And finally, the 13th Order – An unnamed, secret Order that was never disclosed to the public. In fact, there were only twelve territories split between the Orders rather than thirteen.

It was said that they were the King of Purita’s advisory council. Others claimed that they were the true rulers of Puritas. There was no one truth, but as Frost accumulated more and more information from the mouths of a hundred criminal vagrants, she came to a consensus.

Traitors.

The 13th Order were seen as the unnamed traitors of Puritas, who had backstabbed them some twenty to thirty years ago. The timing of the loss of Paradise could not be a coincidence, so Frost had to wonder just who the 13th Order were.

 

* * *

 

The immediate 10-kilometer vicinity of the palace was cleansed in mere hours. Missing folks was so common here that no one batted an eye even when the inns were left entirely abandoned. It was no cause for major alarm right now. Furthermore, such things weren’t usually reported since there was no representative of law enforcement here.

Not only that, but it would be disadvantageous for one to spread the news of a threat. The best course of action was to simply leave and let it trouble others. Frost thrived in these conditions, because she could exercise her judgement on whoever happened to cross her path without repercussion.

What could one do in the face of overwhelming power? Frost was no mere being, but a force of nature taking away the lives of people who thrived on doing the same to others. Her appetite for justice was insatiable, driven by prejudices and the contempt she held towards those who dehumanized the Demi-humans.

The act of killing that was once a taboo to her became as natural as breathing.

No. Killing wasn’t enough for her. A tortuous, prolonged death barely described the agony of those she dragged in thorny cocoons beneath her feet.

She was a flower that required nutrition and received it through her roots and the light of the half-moon. By now over a hundred people were slowly being digested by her brambles, their bodies constantly churning as [Prolonged Stasis] prevented them from ever perishing.

Fifteen inns and taverns had lost their patrons, leaving behind only the evidence of a small scuffle that left holes in the floor. In Frost’s arms was Deiman who was held like a princess as she moved through the shadows of the ruins like a phantom.

Deiman watched Frost’s every act with unwavering eyes. His yellow eyes were dull compared to the brilliance of his savior’s. It was like a warm ray of sunshine shone from those radiant eyes.

Death followed wherever she went.

Blood and the silent screams of the damned chased her.

Deiman sensed it.

His ears and tail didn’t tremble at these sights. They were all far too common for him. Plus, it was not like he could react anymore as a Shell.

But even as a Shell, his instincts still should have warned him about Frost.

“Wheeew! That seems like them all! We have a few hours until sunrise before things get complicated.”

Frost entered a broken manor and put Deiman down before stretching her arms, as if she was free from worldly concerns. The ceiling had long collapsed into rubble, giving them access to the night sky above and the cool, silent breeze.

The night was calmest it had ever been. Deiman couldn’t remember a night where he was allowed to see the stars like tonight. One by one, the rescued Demi-humans were allowed free from Frost’s cocoons to enjoy the chilly, evening air.

There were at least fifty of them in total, half wearing rags and others in serving uniforms like Deiman. They stared curiously at Frost, hands still by their sides and ears folded. Though they did not show it, it was clear that they were afraid.

One winced. Another held a hand to their chest. But few like Deiman didn’t react, for they felt at ease before this person.

Frost reached into an empty space. They believed she was about to draw a weapon from that tear in space and prepared to be slaughtered like the humans. However, something warm, spongy, soft… and delicious was placed into their palms instead.

“Alright. That’s all of you. Here, don’t forget this!”

Rather than the same fury she had shown to the humans, she smiled tenderly at them and began handing out food. Thick cuts of deliciously seasoned beef, with a fresh melody of salad, drizzled with sweet and savory sauce; all sandwiched between a loaf of irresistibly soft, sourdough bread.

It was the kind of food that only Nobles were allowed to have. A sense of guilt ate at them, but Frost encouraged them to eat as she began munching on one herself.

“Oh… I should’ve taken the wrapped off, huh.”

Unlike the other times, she did this on purpose in hopes of making them laugh. It didn’t work judging by their intense stare, but it did spark a few of them to begin eating. A pool of filthy water that accumulated from a past rain was then cleansed by merely dipping her bare hand into it.

Then, to convince them that it was safe to drink, she scooped water with her hand and drank from it.

“Tasty~ You won’t find cleaner water anyway else! I can keep cleaning it, so don’t worry. I’m sorry I don’t have any cups on me. Maybe I should’ve taken some with me. Then again, my storage’s already full of food and ‘that’.”

Her refreshed face whetted their appetite.

Though to begin with, they would have drunk from it anyway regardless of if it was clean or not. She was not given any thanks, not that she needed it from them.

All she wanted to do was look after them since they had been neglected for so long.

“Miss Human. Are you our new master?” A young girl timidly asked as she approached Frost, bowing like she was already her slave.

“Not at all.” Frost knelt to wipe the debris from her cheeks with a thumb, right before patting her head. “I’m just here to help you.”

“How come? You’re a human. Why would you help us if not to make us yours?” She asked again, unable to comprehend her act of kindness like it was the first time she had ever been given unconditional love.

“Because it’s something I want to do. But I can see why it looks scary to you.”

Other Demi-humans gathered around her infants. They were still curious creatures despite being Shells. In fact, curiosity was a characteristic that was amplified when one became a Shell, as if they were yearning to reclaim the emotions they had lost.

Seeing them gather like this painfully reminded her of Nav’s condition.

“’What if she’s trying to take advantage of us?’, ‘What if it’s a trap?’, ‘How long will this kindness last for?’.”

Frost read this from their blank faces and dull eyes. Not a single speck of light shone in those colorless voids. Even those with the most vibrant eyes were ominously dull.

“Telling you that I am is one thing, but showing you is another. I know how hard it is to gain your trust. I think it’s better if you think of me doing this out of selfishness. That’s why I won’t ask for anything in return.”

“… that makes you more suspicious.” A young man said.

“I thought so too.” Frost sighed, smiling in response.

“You won’t deny it? How come?” He asked, confused by her confession.

“Because I’d look like a liar. Isn’t it enough? You’ve been lied to for a long time, right?”

“Since the start…”

They moved their gazes away as they focused on eating. Expressing how they felt in response to her words was impossible. But Frost could feel a palpable sense of relief as the same girl’s tail began to brush against her legs.

Well, it’s fine like this as well. I’m not after their gratitude to begin with. I Just can’t stand to leave them alone.

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