Chapter 42 - Caught in the chaos, No escape from insanity.
Rosa felt the divine energy radiating from Carn. Her golden eyes glimmered with delight, but she held her composure, refraining from kneeling as was customary to express reverence. Instead, she smiled in admiration.
"You look a lot better, master!"
Carn sighed, buttoning his shirt to conceal the new golden tattoo on his right shoulder. Though it was far from the impressive marks Rosa or the detective saint carried, it was enough to shield Han and Wong from the inevitable undead onslaught and their vile curses for the next two decades.
Sitting at his desk, he picked up a pen and a fresh sheet of paper, recalling the prophecy that Mother Tree had delivered. For accuracy, he invoked a spell fueled by a holy mark. His balance of gold strings dwindled from 201 to 200. The power coursed through him, sharpening his memory as the words of the prophecy flowed effortlessly onto the page.
As the final stroke of his pen completed the task, the spell expired. The memory of the prophecy vanished from his mind like a fleeting dream.
"Whew," Carn exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow. Prophecies were never trivial matters; even the smallest misunderstanding could alter their meaning, potentially leading to disaster.
Rosa, intrigued, leaned over his shoulder and began to read the ominous verses aloud.
"Seven armies of corrupted might, immortal legions veiled in blight… Corrupted might and immortal in blight? Undying evildoers? Sinners? Army of corruption… undead legions?" she murmured, frowning as she tried to decipher the cryptic words.
"Yeah, it's definitely referring to the invasion of seven undead armies. I know the rift they'll likely come from. But here's the real issue. I don't know if all seven will emerge from a single rift or if seven separate rifts will open across the world. Either way, we both know the horrors they'll bring."
Rosa's expression darkened as her mind drifted to the past. Memories of the last undead incursion surfaced, sending a shiver down her spine.
That invasion had been led by a former human hero turned Lich King, a tragic figure betrayed and murdered by his comrades. He had returned with a vengeance, commanding legions of death knights to overrun the Stone Mausoleum and steal the treasures left behind by Carn's creator.
At the time, the undead incursion forced Carn's forces and a hero party to set aside their differences and work together. They crushed the 666 leading death knights, but the Lich King managed to escape. He later resurfaced at Bone Mountain with a new and even larger army, forcing all factions to unite against him.
"That war," Rosa's telepathic voice trembled as her PTSD kicked in, "it lasted forever."
Carn nodded solemnly, "Yeah, they just kept coming back to life, and their curses rotted everything they touched. Back then, we didn't fight just one army. We fought all human kingdoms and all 72 demon lords. Those idiots just didn't know when to stop."
He could still recall the desperate coalition that rose to meet the undead threat. Seventy-two demon lords, human kingdoms, gargoyle legions, and the Mother Tree's Kirin Army set aside their grievances to face the Lich King.
But things went to hell.
Carn didn't want to dwell on the mounting frustrations anymore. He shifted his focus back to deciphering the rest of the prophecy.
The first four lines painted a grim picture of the undead legions' invasion, which was something he had already pieced together. But the following verses were more troubling, warning him of specific entities.
[Divine sloths, in their gilded spire,
Turn blind eyes to the world on fire.]
"Divine sloths? Sin of Sloth? What does 'in their gilded spire' even mean?" Rosa was puzzled.
Carn sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It means they're occupying some elevated position or a spire, likely basking in privilege and comfort. They might literally be gilded, dripping in wealth or divine glory. Sound familiar?"
"Oh, those divine spirits?" She chuckled, amused by the prospect. But her laughter died as she read the next line.
[Turn blind eyes to the world on fire.]
Her expression darkened. "How could they?!"
Carn shrugged, unsurprised. "It's exactly what they would do."
Frustration boiled within Rosa. These divine spirits, whom she once considered comrades, were now prophesied to shirk their responsibilities in humanity's hour of need. She felt the anger bubble with nowhere to direct it.
And then the next verse made things worse.
[They shun the bold, the hearts that fight,
Yet envy heroes born in night.]
If she could, Rosa would have scratched her head in exasperation. Instead, her stone hand moved stiffly to rest atop her head as she inwardly screeched.
"They hate brave mortals but get jealous when those same mortals become heroes?" Rosa's tone was incredulous.
"Sounds about right. Petty and prone to jealousy, even though they hold all the power." He shook his head and moved on to the next part.
[Join with those who dwell in shade:
The Headless Knight, with blade unlaid.
The Ferry Man, who bridges fate,
The Soul Catcher, sealing death's gate.]
"These lines are clearer," Carn murmured, though his brow furrowed. "But I can't figure out who Mother Tree meant. Inquisitor, do you know anything about a headless knight, ferryman, or soul collector in the ECD facility?"
Rosa leaned over the page, though her irritation was still evident in her slightly harsher psychic tone. "I know a dullahan. Humans call him ECD-333. No clue about the other two, though."
Carn's expression turned grim. A dullahan was technically an undead being. If ECD-333 decided to side with the undead army, it would be catastrophic.
He tapped his pen against the desk, muttering, "Ferryman… Ferryman…"
Images of the River Styx and its boatmen came to mind. Searching for clarity, he pulled out his phone and googled the term. The screen was filled with depictions of grim ferrymen navigating shadowy rivers.
Carn turned the phone toward Rosa. "Recognize anyone like this?"
Rosa squinted at the screen. After a minute, she snapped her fingers—or tried to. Her stone hand merely clicked against her palm. "ECD-7! That guy fits the description. He loves chatting with researchers but hates other ECD entities, like me."
"Why does he hate you?"
"Because I 'cheated death,' apparently. He refuses to talk to me after that. Oh, but he still has his boats! The last time I saw him, he was building tiny arks in glass bottles for his collection. They're small when bottled, but when he pulls them out? Master, they're MASSIVE!"
Carn's eyes twitched. "Arks?"
"Yeah!" Rosa exclaimed. "He once tried to smash me with one. Full-sized. That was the day we both arrived at the facility."
Carn groaned as his headache intensified. Rosa, undeterred, continued.
"Oh, and he's got this crazy spell, called Soul Departure Water. He used it on me and tried to yoink my soul out of my vessel, but it didn't work. It did kill a few researchers by accident, though. But you know what? He brought their souls back and stuffed them into their bodies like nothing happened!"
Carn pressed his fingers to his temples, taking deep breaths to steady himself. Rosa was oblivious to his growing irritation as inspiration struck her.
"The soul catcher! It must be the opposite of that ferry guy, right? That should be ECD-4, the Grim Reaper girl. Remember that geezer grimoire? He sealed her with the branch's energy."
Carn paused. Something in Rosa's tone was off. "Was sealed?"
Rosa scratched the back of her head, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. "Well… since I took the mother tree's branch out, the seal might've, uh… released."
Carn's eyes narrowed. "And?"
Rosa hesitated, "Promise you won't get mad?"
"Speak."
"She's moody. And, uh… we don't get along."
Carn's patience wore thin. "What. Did. You. Do?"
Rosa sighed. "We were rivals. She collected Aether from Class-E criminals, and I worked with Class-F death row prisoners. But after new laws stopped sending criminals to the facility, she got mad and demanded a share of mine. We… argued. Then, she barged into my enclosure, and the researchers freaked out and tried to kill her. She thought I ordered them to do it, and now she wants me dead."
Carn facepalmed, dragging his hand down his face. A dullahan, a ferryman, and a grim reaper—three entities likely to side with the undead.
"Why do I even bother?" he muttered, already anticipating the chaos to come.