Nexus Awakened (An Isekai LitRPG Gender Bender Story)

70. Hailstorm at Dusk

One question arose from Frost’s revelation.

If people could become Corrupted, then how come it had never occurred until now? The countless tens of thousands that still suffered in Grandis were bound to have at least one of them become a Corrupted, and yet it was Calfasio and Ignis who underwent this harrowing transformation.

Corrupted had always existed long before the rise of the first Advent. Suffice to say, it was hard for Frost to believe that this hadn’t occurred even once in 350 years.

So, she had to wonder if she possessed some sort of influence when it came to creating the Corrupted in the first place. It would partially explain why Calfasio and Ingis became Corrupted since they were within her proximity at the time.

However, she also had to speculate that it may be caused by the floors opening within the Nexus. She believed that if there were Corrupted created by her, then they would at least bear the Amalgamation Affinity. Wrath and Lament confirmed at least two more floors and Archetypes existed.

In the end, there was no feasible way to explain their Corruption event. Aside from them giving into their overwhelming emotions. Still, it did not change that it occurred within her presence.

Frost muttered random gibberish beneath her breath as she took the liberty to explore the Guild and its functions. Then, she spoke:

“The Guild has its own ranking system for Adventurers. It also incorporates the Arbiter’s Trumpet a little differently.”

She pointed out along the face of a giant billboard. It contained menial tasks ranging from picking flowers to aiding the elderly with their chores. Nothing too serious was plastered here, aside for one giant sign in the center that reminded them to return within the gates an hour before sunset.

“These are probably all the local quests.” Jury noticed. “The bigger ones might circulate over a number of towns using the Warped Stone technology. At least I’d believe so. Is that correct, Nav?”

“Quests higher than Yellow Trickle circulate over multiple Guilds. Anything below is considered a local quest.”

Frost found herself stifling a small laugh. She didn’t think she was so immature to find… yellow trickle such a humorous name.

“… Frost, are you perhaps laughing?”

You’re imagining things. So the color rankings are also slotted into various risk classifications, huh.

From what Nav explained, and from what she gathered from various faces who were more than happy to answer her, the Adventurer ranking system looked like this:

---

Eternal Night Risk Class – Unbound Ranked – Incandescent Soul – Level 140+

White Monsoon Risk Class – Radiant Rank – White Soul – Level 120 – 139

Black Monsoon Risk Class – Diamond Rank – Black Soul – Level 100 – 120

Violet Hailstorm Risk Class – Platinum Rank – Violet Soul – Level 80 – 100

Red Hailstorm Risk Class– Gold Rank – Red Soul – Level 60 – 80

Blue Trickle Risk Class – Silver Rank – Blue Soul – Level 40 – 60

Yellow Trickle Risk Class – Copper Rank – Yellow Soul – Level 20 – 40

Green Trickle Risk Class – Tin Rank – Green Soul – Level 0 – 20

---

The Incandescent Souls brought up the question of the Incandescent Colors. She was only aware of the Red Barron, and further asking around of this person seemed to spark confusion.

“The Red Barron died a long time ago, didn’t he?”

“Lady, didn’t he die in Paradise?”

“A-Ah. Oh. I thought you were interested in joining our party. Red Barron?” One person spoke, unable to meet Frost’s eyes as they hovered somewhere below her chin. “… Isn’t he dead?”

“Is that right? Well, thank you for your time.” Frost and Jury promptly left the group of 5 alone, who waved back trying to get them to stay a little longer. “’Dead’, huh.”

I don’t think Iscario would casually bring up the name of a dead man to ravage the women of a village. Unless zombies or the Undead are a thing?

“Perish the thought. The Undead you’re thinking of do not exist in this world. They are not raised from the dead per say. Instead, they are puppeteered as parodies of themselves by the Mycelli; the fungal race, or by other means. A person cannot return from the dead as a corpse.”

But their lingering emotions can return and manifest into something worse. The Corrupted.

“Precisely.”

Unfortunately, her prodding around the Guild bared no fruit. Information regarding this person was non-existent. It also didn’t help that she received varying answers when she asked what sort of powers he wielded.

Fire magic? A swordsman? A Dragonkin? No one knew for sure. It left her starved for wisdom as they further investigated the Guild’s processes, admiring its beauty until they was approached by a short-cut, pale-haired woman dressed in blue robes.

She was a healer no doubt, and the vibrant, cozy smile she wore managed to shock Frost. Having only seen the healers in the from of the Wandering Healer, she was half-expecting her to possess a metal, clawed hand and an ominous smile.

However, this woman was perfectly normal. Human as well.

“Humans don’t have special racial traits. However, they are the only race that can gain an affinity for healing.” Nav revealed.

“Hello! Is this your first time coming here?” This woman was slightly shorter than Frost, and she tugged around a small cart of baked goods.

“Is it?” Jury looked over to Frost, wondering how they should respond.

“Is it?” The healer giggled. “I’m sorry. I thought you two looked lost. The receptionists were a little wary of approaching you. Not because you’re scary or anything! Um… Could it be your first time visiting a Guild building? It’s not uncommon for people from Grandis to have never visited one before.”

The way she spoke, and the way her body squirmed almost playfully as she spoke caused something to spark inside of Frost’s chest. An instinctual urge to protect this being instantly overcame her, akin to a motherly… no, fatherly instinct.

An angel?

“Healers are free of malice. Incapable of harm or ill thoughts. Purest of the pure. An angel would be correct. Although such a race no longer exists.”

They do now. And Inflow Direct manages them as expected. But those DEF stats are something else. It’s that cloth she’s wearing, isn’t it? They’re probably made from the same strings that create the Scripts.

Frost cleared her throat and replied after a small moment of silence.

“Yeah. We’re completely lost. I was wondering how the Blessed are supposed to turn in quests with the Repositories offline.”

“Offline? Do you mean broken?” She said, pointing her finger upwards. “Grandis jargon isn’t very popular here. Um… about the quests, right now I’m afraid everything’s being processed manually, and everything’s being restricted to local quests. It’d be kinda hard to prove you finished one across the other side of Brandar, right? Oh, sorry. I’m running my mouth, aren’t I?” She sheepishly smiled.

“It’s fine. Please keep talking. So that also means we can’t earn Nex at all, huh. Must be troublesome for the Blessed up there.” Frost assured.

“It’s quite sad. Some people built their entire lives in the residential floor. But without a stockpile of Nex then it’s almost impossible to remain up there. Not to mention the Blessed that live on those floors seldomly carry coins, let alone other foreign currencies.” The healer revealed yet another problem with the Nexus that somehow never occurred to her.

That’s right. You need Nex to remain in the Nexus. So all of the Blessed that don’t have enough Nex are getting kicked out. To where though?

“Across all of Elysia. No one has a say in where they’re sent. It seems that a mass exodus has occurred as a result of Iscario’s meddling with the Relay Sites and Repositories.”

And I thought he had already done the worst. You’d think there’d be a backup plan or something at least. Can’t they just teleport to other regions?

“And if those regions are too dangerous for them? Need I remind you that while the Corrupted are rare and Brandar has its own issues with the dungeons, the rest of the world isn’t as pretty.”

Fucking hell.

“A hell indeed.”

“That means we’ll end up getting coins instead of Nex as rewards… By the way, what’s Nex?”

“Currency of the Nexus?” The healer tilted her head, wondering if Frost was asking a trick question.

“Nevermind. Hey, sorry for holding you up. Bringing those to the girls in the common room?”

“Yep! And I didn’t mind at all! It was nice speaking to you. And you too, fellow healer!” She cheerfully cried before handing them both a supersized cookie each. “Do you two have a name? A cool Adventurer title or namesake?” Her eyes glistened suddenly.

“Frost; the Amalgam, and Jury.” Jury answered, her coat showing no animated writing at all, indicating that this this woman has quite literally never done anything bad in her life.

… An angel in the flesh.

“Is that cool enough?” Frost hummed.

“Plenty enough! Call me Pinna! I’ll be looking after you if you get hurt tonight! And you two look plenty strong! It’s been a little rough here lately. But we’re calling in even stronger people this time to help with the swarms!” She cheered to herself, causing Frost and Jury to melt ever slightly to this person’s warmth.

It also angered Frost to some degree. It wasn’t directed towards Pinna. Rather, this anger was for this woman and all healers alike. If every healer was pure of heart just like her, then the fact that the world decided to persecute them was absolutely unforgivable.

She understood the notion the strong eating the weak, but these were people capable of doing only good. Why enslave them? They’d help regardless, right? The barbaric logic messed with her as she ended up glaring at the healer.

Luckily not hard enough to inflict Scrutiny.

“U-Um… sorry, did I do something wrong?”

“Ah, sorry. Hey, take care of yourself. Don’t push yourself too hard. Being the only healer must be tough. And thanks for the cookie. Maybe I’ll cherish this and have it as a keepsake.” Frost joked.

“Please do eat it within the day! That can’t be healthy for you!” The healer cried. “I-if you’ll excuse me! I’m bringing these to the poor girl. See you tonight. And good luck~!” She rushed off with the cart of goodies, waving behind before she greeted others along the way with seemingly boundless energy.

“Jury.”

“Mhm.”

“What do you think about the healers?” Frost asked after a moment of silence.

“Good people. But you can also feel an air of sadness. I read in a book about the extent of their suffering. Healers are the hardest people to break. But when they do it’s tragic. The Archivist says they end up losing their wings. What about you? How do you feel seeing another one of your kind?”

“Anger.” Frost casually admitted, causing Jury to silently nod.

Her feathers didn’t rustle to her own voice. This was because she also expressed sorrow.

Not towards the woman, but for past healers in general who had to endure the cruel whims of the world. While it was all in the past, it did not change the fact that she had come face to face with one of these broken healers who lived during these agonizing times.

It was hard for her to imagine what it took to break and twist someone’s concept of healing from restoration of the body to salvation in the form of death, and yet keep that same air of kindness.

A mangled kindness.

Although, there were some instances where this was unfortunately unavoidable.

An example was those turned into the slimes by Crimson Hunger. Remembering this, she brought a hand up to touch Ingis. The girl shivered as she gently brushed against Frost’s hand. Ignis’ form hadn’t seen any changes yet. Neither did Snap’s.

But it was only a matter of time before they did.

And if history was anything to go by, they’d probably all grow into something huge just like Jury.

That being said –

“You sound like a mother bird. Are your motherly instincts kicking in for your kind? The healers”

“Motherly? Fatherly more like…” Frost trailed off momentarily as she and Jury moved outside, cherishing the warmth of the afternoon sun. “Justica Arms initiated the rescue of the healers. It begs the question of what they’re like internally. One of their Apostles screwed me over, and another went and started a war with Scarlet Logic. They hardly sound like a coherent bunch.”

“Like a wildcard?” Jury said.

“Exactly that.”

* * *

Little else occurred as the hours elapsed. Snap eventually fell asleep with Ignis, both tucked in by the mini-Frost who vowed to watch over them with a solid salute. Frost took a good look at the two one final time, knowing that they were going to transform in the following hours.

And as she left the Guild she noticed that the town’s atmosphere sharply shifted the closer it became dusk.

The happiness stagnated and slowly fizzled away as the sun steadily turned orange. When the skies became scarlet, and as people swiftly returned to their homes and barricaded their windows with wooden curtains; the Adventurers moved to the top of the surrounding battlements of the town and assessed the situation.

Cer, Ber and Res followed Frost and Jury to a more vacant end of the walls as the crystals underneath began to glow a gentle red. Cer pointed out into the distance as the world was drowned by howling winds.

“Do you feel it? Something tunneling deep underneath?” Cer began as a group containing Pinna and Furio, surprisingly, scoured the darkening plains in the direction of the Nex Megalopolis with a telescope.

They were desperately searching for the ‘strong people’, who had yet to arrive.

“Hearts are everywhere underneath Brandar. But I say that’s bullshit. Countless Heart’s don’t coexist. They tear each other apart like natural predators. It’s an eat or be eaten world out here. Rather than many Hearts, it’s a select few. The apex of the Hearts.”

The sun neared its end as a cacophony of voices rattled the cold air. Shouting filled the town before silence instantly befell them when the sun finally disappeared over the distant ocean.

And then, a trumpet sounded.

A bright, red flame instantly shot out from a horn-like trumpet and illuminated the sky like a flare. The man who blew into it donned holy robes that exuded unbounded divinity.

This man was a member of the Justica Arms who had no other role than to sound the Arbiter’s Trumpet for the people who did not possess the Blessing of the Nexus to receive its warning.

Then, the trumpet resounded once more.

“RED HAILSTORM!” Someone cried out at the top of their lungs before countless pores began to split along the entire stretch of Brandar. It was as if the entire land was a sponge. The ground did not even break. It opened like these pores were its mouths.

//////// < WARNING > ////////

 

< HAILSTORM >

< THE ARBITER’S TRUMPET SINGS >

“You see Frost, we call the entire surface of Brandar the Epiderma layer. Beneath all the rock, sediment, bones, blood, and history you’ll find a place we internally call the Derma layer. But it’s easier to call it by its traditional name.” Cer hummed as a sprawling sea of Impuritas monsters emerged from these pores.

It was not the Flesh Clots, or the Crimson Hunger as a matter of fact.

It was a completely bizarre creature. So bizarre in fact that Frost did not know if these were worse than the Crimson Hunger. No. Not even a creature at all. What emerged was quite literally a swarm of paper-crafted balls of yarn.

“IT’S THE PAGES! OUR LUCK IS GOOD TONIGHT!”

“USE FIRE! DO NOT FALL IN OR YOU’LL BE TURNED INTO PIECES OF PAPEEEEEER!”

“FIRE MAGES! ARCHERS WITH FIRE SKILLS! IT’LL BE ANOTHER EASY DEFENSE! MOST OF THE WORK WILL BE LEFT TO THE FIRE CRYSTALS!”

“That place right underneath us is what they call Hell; all created by an endless sprawl of complexes made by the largest Hearts that not even the Corrupted Zone ones can hold a flame to.” Cer’s fang sparked with electricity as she ominously concluded.