684. Two Hearts Apart
684. Two Hearts Apart
684. Two Hearts Apart
The edge city of Ravia had a population of only 7,000 and was spread across a city of just over a square kilometer. The number didn’t feel right to Frost. She was certain at least tens of thousands lived in Ravia as she and Cer explored its highly urbanized streets.
The scent of untreated sewerage and shouting assaulted them from every angle. Homes were built up to two or three stories and were shared by multiple families. The main roads that cut through the city were about two meters wide; barely enough for horse-drawn caravans to pass through.
Other roads were worse. They were a meter wide if not smaller and meshed with the alleyways. It resulted in an urban maze that would have been a headache to navigate if it weren’t for Frost’s omnidirectional vision.
Light failed to reach the ground due to the condensed nature of the city. Rooftops stole the light as those beneath were depraved of sunshine. Grime, filth, and the unwashed masses thrived where the sun failed to shine as they walked shoulder to shoulder, rubbing off against each other which sparked immediate conflict.
“I should’ve had lower expectations. This is Grandis. It’s always been closer to the medieval period. This is straight out of a grimdark novel. Not like history wasn’t as filthy either.” Frost commented as she walked through its streets with Cer remaining close behind.
She had envisioned the Bellum Empire to be far more accommodating and closer to the state of the Nex Megalopolis. Granted, this was a minor city and sat at the frontier of one of Grandis’ worst sections. But even so, she didn’t expect it to be so heavily lacking.
Even Little Tais possessed amenities for hygiene, although that was because of the Guild building. Not only that, but its layout at least had some degree of thought put into it. Ravia was the result of uncontrollable sprawl, embodying Grandis’ desperation to concentrate its populations into a single area.
“It definitely wasn’t like this. Along my rampage I had a chance to enter the Bellum Empire.” Cer brought up. “The population was much smaller and less...”
She looked over at people that had sunk their teeth into the neck of a chicken. Its wings flapped and it called for help, only for the tiny teeth of children to claim its head.
“... unintelligent. Hardly humans. Lunaria’s saying some weird things on the CognitO Transmitter. Apparently Gerina claims that it’s the result of the teachings of the dirtbags we call the Memento Mori.”
“Eating animals raw is one of their teachings? That doesn’t sound right at all.” Frost was here to gather information first and foremost. This included the people themselves as well as their stats.
Her blue eyes which held the CognitO Filters scanned their cramped world.
“None of them are part of the Memento Mori. I’m getting titles like ‘Unwanted’, and ‘Forsakened’. This could be a dumping ground since it’s an edge city quite a bit away from the Empire itself.”
“Nah. It would be easier to use them as a material. I’m guessing they’re being used to keep outsiders away from the Bellum Empire.” Cer’s point was the likeliest. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the next city over was a utopia in comparison. Like utopias exist anyway. Something’s gotta give.”
“I agree. These conditions are like what we saw in Triple Paw Complex, and that Maestro of Flesh city.”
“Similar, yeah. But let’s not pretend that people are dumb as hell outside of the Nex Megalopolis or Justica Arm’s influence. A single Guild could fix a lot of things. No regulations, no standards of living, no Associations or Branches to offer support and civil work – and you get places like this all over Elysia. Emvita has some fucked up places compared to here. You gotta remember, they live lives that might not even exist tomorrow. The same applies here. People want to survive. Not sure where the raw chicken comes in.”
Cer hastened her pace to walk side by side with Frost, uncaring if they took the majority of the walking space. She expected people to intimidate her, or at least bash their shoulders with hers. She was prepared for this and couldn’t wait to break a few bones.
However, they moved aside rather than committing to their direction. Frost had noticed it earlier, but there had been quite a few eyes on them since they first arrived.
Notably on herself, for reasons she was subconsciously aware of.
“Feeling their gazes? Welcome to my world.” Cer nudged Frost. “It’s not often you get to feel the raw lust sticking to you, huh. Heh.”
As sickening as their leers from the shadows, and even overtly were, it mattered little to Frost.
“If it was my old self then I wouldn’t have noticed it at all.” The naive Frost that first came into this world would’ve been easy prey, and for that reason she was thankful for the people in the Village of Virt. “Besides, I expected this to happen eventually. It’s worse than the looks I received in H9. I’m guessing the Red Baron comes from the same cut of cloth.”
A leer was one thing, but seeing so many red-hearted people through the walls alongside the gold in their chests made her question her world. Being a woman never really stood in Frost’s way which was why it was easy to accept in the first place.
What happened to those who finally reached the end? Were they staked by a thousand spears of the ones they had wronged along the way? Or what would happen if that vengeance was ill-placed?
Raoul pondered on these thoughts as he was fueled by the same flame as Cer. Deep within the belly of Mount Saris crackled a campfire. Surrounding the warm embers where the dozing faces of Ara, Deiman, Autumn and a groaning Mae.
A single, lonesome back sat at the edge of the still pool at the center.
Raoul stared at his own reflection and dropped a miniscule object.
It sank into the depths of the pool, spiraling helplessly by the whims of the world.
Then, it slowly rose to the top.
“Twelve thousand – Drown them in a brook without their limbs. Build the walls of a well around the brook with their severed limbs. Build it so high that they will never be able to see the light of day again... Then allow it to collapse.”
What he uttered was kept close to his heart. Another 11,999 similar visceral phrases were memorized like they were branded into his mind. Every book in his library of memories carried similar deranged phrases.
Shuffling came from behind.
The object emerged from the pool as another reflection appeared.
“What’s that, Raoul?” Ara hummed, hovering right above him. She yawned groggily and lightly leaned against him. “Playing with broken thorns again?”
He stared at her face in the pool where the broken thorn floated.
Then, he plucked the object and crushed it between his fingers.
“I was reminiscing about better days.”
“Aww.” Ara whispered, hooking her arms around his neck. “It’s always like that. Why not make better memories?”
Raoul scoffed at the thought and threw another broken thorn into the pool.
Ripples formed. Both of their reflections distorted.
“That would require a person deserving of it in the first place.” He nonchalantly muttered.
Raoul was prepared to hear Ara bite back. But to his surprise, she fell asleep by the time he could respond. She pressed herself against this back, drooling on him as he continued to toss broken thorns into the pool.
Mae watched him with half-lidded eyes, too terrified to fully awaken while everyone was still asleep. She saw how Ara’s legs touched Raoul’s tail, which was considered the most intimate part of a Demi-human.
However, he did not react. Mae just had to wonder what the reason for it was. Curiosity killed the cat, so the saying went.
So she pretended that she witnessed nothing.
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