"It is highly likely that anyone you come into contact with who does not possess uniqueness of their own will contract corruption."
The Angel of Justice, Prudentia, sighed as she spoke, watching the scene before her with a sad expression.
Aurora's shop was surrounded by various members of the Angelic Order who placed a blinding barrier over its exterior.
Madame Jermaine, Madame Hick, and even the shopkeeper herself had been brought into the central temple to undergo mental purification and a half reset.
There was no telling if the three of them had spread the corruption to others, a full citywide search being enacted by Lady Ariel herself.
"I-I didn't know…"
Eleanor's voice was shaky, her body trembling dramatically as she leaned against a stone wall across from the shop, a blanket draped over her back.
Her complexion was pale and weak, her gray eyes clouded and full of worry for the innocent people she had inadvertently dragged into her problems.
Prudentia patted her shoulder, muttering something quietly under her breath.
"It's not your fault, Eleanor... If anything… it is our failure to predict that his corruption could infect others."
Regardless of the True Angel's words, the blonde-haired girl kept her gaze pinned to the ground, the miscellaneous noises around her drowning out her own madness.
Meanwhile, the Angels were working busily: the entire bookstore was reduced to ash, only to be restored by a powerful miracle soon after, all of Aurora's belongings replaced, yet not in their original forms.
None of the ladies would remember the incident, with their memories being nearly completely reset.
"How much?"
Prudentia heard Eleanor's voice even in its softened state, a frown tugging at the woman's lips.
"How much what?"
Leaning closer to her apprentice's lips, she heard the remainder of her words.
"How much more suffering will he cause…"
The emerald-eyed woman stiffened, her own thoughts muddled as she stared at her colleagues who battled against the severe corruption.
A cool breeze washed over the empty street, and the police officers patrolled around, forcing the overnight market district to close even during prime hours.
Prudenia's eyes fell onto the castle in the distance, the walls of liquid obsidian and the mystical roots that rose through the middle, shedding light into the dark world.
"I don't know."
…
After getting escorted back to her room by her teacher, Eleanor sat dazed on her bed, her mind a mess as she contemplated what had happened.
Even being near them… My existence itself is harmful…
She closed her eyes, feeling teardrops building behind her carefully kept mask that she finally allowed to crack.
Her chest heaved, and her fists clutched together tightly, yet not a single droplet fell.
No…
Whether it be the rage, despair, or resentment eating away at the tumorous corruption within her chest, the gray-eyed girl understood something fundamental about herself at that moment.
It's his fault. That blasphemous man manipulated me, manipulated Aaron, manipulated everyone! Why shouldn't he be the one to suffer the consequences…
Slumping backwards in her bed, she stared at the ceiling, envisioning what type of face a monster such as him would have.
A conspirator, a schemer, a being of unimaginable power.
Each of these words represented Eleanor's perception of the God Slayer, her resentment turning to hate, her despair turning to fresh willpower, and her rage solidified into one single goal.
She would do whatever it took to stop that man's plans and prevent him from spreading his falsehoods across her homeland, no matter the cost.
…
Two weeks later, standing outside an endless field of protruding gray tombs engraved with black ink and eroded by millennia of existence, Eleanor Lynn frowned.
I hope it's not too late to complete Sir Humility's request… I told Lady Ariel to tell him about the corruption incident, but she only chuckled and told me that what he requested wasn't urgent…
By refining her relationships with the four Madames in the book club, conversing with Abraham, and exchanging letters with the two men in Infinium, she had strengthened her body to a certain degree.
Under the direct supervision of Lady Strixen, the Angel of Providence, who wielded grand authority over disease and medicine, the spread of the corruption could be prevented, allowing Eleanor to interact with others without worry.
Unsurprisingly, Abraham, a millennium-old man inside the body of a little kid who was seemingly immune to various effects of the Great Beyond; Marcus Twynam, the former chairman of the Oceanic Association and a man deeply trusted by all the old era Kings; and Norman Reed, a former Sea King himself, were all asymptomatic.
After the recent developments, Eleanor believed it was finally time to tie the one loose end she had left in the Great Beyond before it was too late.
Vaguely aware that the passage of time was altered within the domain of Death compared to the other dimensions, she had been nervous about her awakening coming sooner than she could finish all her preparations.
However, Lady Ariel quickly quelled such a fear by reminding her that her current condition, despite giving some space to hope, was still extremely difficult to fix, and therefore, even with a difference in the passage of time, it was still highly unlikely that Aaron would find a cure so fast.
If my estimates are correct, today should be July 30th. Without the dilation, it would be around the 16th…
Her lips trembled slightly as the relentless fear crossed her mind.
According to Lady Prudentia, the probability that Aaron Grimstall could eventually find a suitable way to cure her was high; however, a normal person would have a hard time accomplishing such a feat in the span of a single life.
Of course, she would think like that… She doesn't know about his secrets…
Reassuring herself silently, she closed her eyes and walked through an iron gate that housed two silent canine gargoyles, her mana instantly alerting her to a mysterious void now encompassing her.
"Ugh…"
Flinching at the strange feeling of the graveyard, she took in the sight of millions of tombs stretching out into the distance, a scene truly hard to believe, even seeing it with your own eyes.
Do nobles take pleasure in such things?
Since those who faded were remembered within the catacombs anyway, there was no need for actual tombstones; however, with such a lucrative market at their hands, merchants swiftly took up the retail space, selling these stones to the yet non-faded nobles in Infinium.
Chuckling as she passed hundreds of names, she searched for any notable anomalies, faithful to the request the Angel of Humility entrusted to her.
How am I supposed to know what I'm looking for?
Making her way through the boundless graveyard, she began to realize that there was not so much as a single sign to give her directions; only long grassy roads and silent pillars of stone everywhere the eye could reach.
Committing to moving in one direction, she grazed the tops of dozens of the carved stones, feeling their limestone texture linger on her fingertips.
The rock was cool and damp as if it had rained, a phenomenon that didn't occur within the Great Beyond, as there was no natural water that would precipitate.
Could it be from a Spore?
She looked up into the sky to check for roots, yet, surprisingly enough, the roof was dark—a dormant piece of wood incapable of dropping souls hanging above.
Odd…
Noticing her first anomaly, she continued onward, her extremely weak mana core, akin to that of a newborn, pulsing gently.
Making use of her mana supply—however low—she probed the surroundings with microscopic traces of Holy Magic, searching for anything unusual.
Not a sound, nor a sight, fell on her senses as if they were blurred, a weak burning sensation wedging its way into her head.
Beginning to feel her eyelids droop and her consciousness wane, she pinched herself hard, an alarming thought surfacing in her mind.
Interference?
The word snapped her out of her inexplicable daze, the unusual tranquility following her every step something she could not ignore.
Massaging her temple with one hand, she paused for a moment before taking another step, a sudden insight hitting her.
The sound isn't gone… It's delayed!
Testing her hypothesis again and again, sure enough, it wasn't that she was losing her senses, but that both the sounds and the visual cues processed by her brain came far later than her physical actions implied.
Instantly becoming wary, she tightened her guard, tracking the mysterious delay with a gentle chant inside her head.
1… 3… 5… 10… 20…
Her inner voice was uneven, something that was almost certainly tied to the strange phenomenon she was experiencing.
Is it not… going to… appear to me?
The thought rolled sluggishly through her mind, expecting that something which reduced her to such a pitiful state would show itself in front of its weakened target, sooner or later.
Around her, the various large tombs erected by extraordinarily rich nobles stood silently as a black mist began to spill out, soaking the terrain in its haze.
It was cold, exuding a presence that could only be described as evil, a certain amount of corruption interlaced in its form.
I… take… that… back…
Gritting her teeth, she cut off all the outgoing mana streams, instead focusing all her power into a weak barrier around her body.
The Holy Arts were made to directly combat the types of darkness and corruption that the black fog was exhibiting.
Even while placing faith in her defenses, she decided to heed the basic logic of 'if you can't win, run.'
Taking a heavy breath, she turned and ran without a second thought.
Her steps were shallow, leaving faint marks in the wet grass as she passed grave after grave, the words on their surface blending together into an incoherent surge of characters.
Behind her, the dangerous mist followed at a slow yet deliberate pace, more akin to a gentle wave than a threatening flood.
All the same, she didn't stop running, even when her weak body started to give in, and her muscles trembled like never before.
There was no stopping until she eluded the mist.
Fwoosh!
Heavy wind seemed to accelerate the rolling clouds behind her, just as she noticed the gates of the graveyard appear once more.
Clo…se…
Her mental state was on the verge of falling into whatever the fog had in store for her, the blonde-haired girl's range of motion wavering as time rushed by.
Al…mo…st…
The black mist was only meters behind her now, its originally slow speed now replaced by a pace so quick that she could hardly outrun it.
A murky tendril reached out from the mass, grazing the back of her leg like a tentacle of a hungry sea terror.
Eleanor's mind instantly erupted into a violent cacophony, whispers that sounded as if the dead had come back to haunt her, thrumming to life inside her brain.
Her legs gave out, her body collapsing forward and colliding with the ground in a loud thud that resounded throughout the open fields.
Did… I… make…
At her heel, the black fog lunged forward, coiling up her leg as it prepared to devour its prey.
BANG!
An illusory burst of golden light shot out from an unknown place above the girl's head, and a shrill sound escaped the black mist, much too similar to the painful scream of a wounded beast.
A viscous smell of burnt flesh spread throughout the air, the ground trembled, and an immense amount of mana spread all around the general vicinity.
Eleanor could only cover her head and close her eyes, praying to the True Angels of the Angelic Order to protect her.
Staying like this for something close to two minutes, she gradually gathered the will to stand, her hands trembling from residual adrenaline.
Turning back, a realization dawned upon her, a burst of rare pride surging forth.
I made it!
After checking the location where the golden beams of light had struck down her foe, she turned her eyes to the gates of the graveyard and their solemn guardians, the two dog statues, which glimmered lightly, standing almost shoulder to shoulder with her.
If I were only a centimeter off…
She shivered, unable to even imagine the horrors of whatever that ominous mist had wanted to do with her.
Panting after running nearly half a mile in such a brief time, she began to recover, using the remainder of her mana to fuel her stamina.
Finally, she straightened her posture and, once again, directed her gaze towards the two seemingly normal sculptures that had prevented the fog from attacking her.
There was no trace of the murderous mist—it had vanished as quickly as it had poured out of the tombs.
Could it have been an illusion?
Thinking of the possibility, she discarded it soon after, the vivid whispers and pain she had felt when it grazed her leg still playing out in her mind.
Slowly, she sighed, turning away from the graveyard, deciding it was too dangerous to approach again unless accompanied by an Angel.
In the distance, the black castle appeared larger than usual, its shadowy walls towering towards the sunless sky like high cliffs of a mountain.
Silently, under the guise of a prayer, Eleanor lampooned the mission she had been given.
"Mr. Humility, did you truly find me annoying enough to have me risk my death like this…?"
Shaking her head, she walked away, oblivious to the tiny owl perched above the gates staring down at her with a clearly humorous expression on its face.