"Infected people actually committing such violence against guards? Aren't the ones who came to save them afraid that these survivors will go out and kill indiscriminately in revenge?"
Frostnova frowned. She had seen such people before—thugs who, because of their own misfortunes, took their rage out on the innocent. While she sympathized with their plight, the Guerrillas did not exist to protect such people. There were even extremists who would intentionally infect others just to report them to the Inspection Teams.
And yet, this unknown group had dared to perform a mass execution by fire in front of people who had been oppressed for so long? Was some organization trying to train a batch of Infected bent on vengeance?
"No... this flame instead... ignites their negative emotions as fuel. It turns the oppressors to ash using the very... hatred directed at them. As for the Infected... their emotions are... released. It actually... purifies their souls."
Patriot explained the principles of this power to Frostnova. He didn't blame her for being skeptical; even as an "antique" who had lived for countless years, he wouldn't have believed such a power existed until he saw it with his own eyes.
"What a strange Originium Art, even weirder than your secret Sarkaz arts," Frostnova remarked, marvelling at the sheer variety of Arts in the world—to think there was an ability that could burn emotions to purify others.
"Rather than... an Originium Art... it is better described... as a power to... cleanse the world. If she... disregarded the consequences... and ignited her flames fully... every living thing in this world... would be burned to nothing! And the earth... would return to... purity once more!"
Patriot's evaluation of this power sent a shock through Frostnova. She hadn't expected this stubborn old man to claim that someone had the power to destroy the world. On second thought, given the ruins they were standing in, it seemed plausible.
Patriot began to recall an ancient Sarkaz prophecy regarding these flames from his youth. The details were mostly lost to time, but fragments remained in his memory:
"Our Creator, our Origin, once stepped into the forbidden zone of an alien god and suffered the consequences."
"We, the descendants, bearing the original sin of the Origin, shall wander the land of suffering."
"One day, the Apostle of God shall walk upon the earth, traveling through all nations."
"She shall purify all things with light, and erase malice with flame."
"When the final judgment arrives, the one who decides all things shall make the ultimate choice."
"The destination of all living beings—whether to embrace tomorrow and move forward... or to board the Ark and hide—all lies within a single thought of hers."
Patriot remembered the elders muttering this prophecy when he was a child, but it had gradually faded away. They eventually dismissed it as a mere story or a collective delusion and stopped mentioning it to outsiders. Gradually, the legend vanished from Kazdel, remembered only by the truly ancient.
Coincidentally, to his knowledge, both Laterano and the Yan Empire had once sung similar stories, only for them to vanish shortly after...
"It is time to go. There is nothing left here. Get in the trucks; we are leaving."
After a long silence, Patriot broke the stillness. This place was clearly more complicated than they had anticipated.
Long after their convoy had disappeared into the distance, a scout hiding inside a hollowed-out rock far away finally deactivated his camouflage. He was trembling, thanking his lucky stars for surviving. He had barely breathed for hours, terrified that his Originium Arts would fluctuate and tip off the Guerrillas.
He hurried away. He had to deliver this intelligence to his superiors. The military's "Top Secret" files had fallen into the hands of the Northwest Guerrillas; the consequences would be catastrophic.
Patriot, preoccupied by the events at the mine and his own memories, had overlooked the faint fluctuation of the scout's Arts. Believing the site held no further value, he had moved on.
Once they settled at a new camp, Patriot immediately had the team doctor examine Frostnova. To everyone's astonishment, her Oripathy showed genuine signs of improvement. The concentration of Originium in her body had significantly decreased.
While not a total cure, a technology capable of reversing the infection stage was nothing short of a miracle. On the Terra of today, medicine that could merely suppress the disease hadn't even appeared yet; instead, the land was filled with fraudulent companies claiming to have "cures" to steal people's money.
The squad crowded around Frostnova, desperate to know how she had done it. Patriot stood aside, dazed for a long moment, before finally ordering everyone to quiet down. Despite his staccato speech, those who knew the Bulwark could tell he was in an exceptionally good mood.
"It was this stuff. I forgot to dilute it with water at the time, and my whole body started glowing after I drank it!"
Frostnova produced the three bottles of water Jeanne had given her. The surrounding soldiers peered curiously at the seemingly ordinary clear liquid, unable to see anything special. They passed it to Patriot, who observed it closely before mixing a few drops into his own canteen.
The previously plain water emitted a faint light. Patriot let a drop fall onto his arm, sensing its properties.
"It is... Laterano Holy Water. But I... have never seen... water this pure."
Patriot spoke with certainty. He was familiar with this substance; during the wars between Kazdel and Laterano, the enemy used it to suppress Sarkaz Originium Arts. Because of the unique nature of the Sarkaz, the Kazdel military had many Infected; Laterano would soak their bullets in Holy Water to effectively sever their connection with Originium.
But Holy Water of this concentration... Patriot estimated that even Laterano didn't possess much. Compared to this bottle, the Holy Water used by Laterano in the wars was practically tap water. He had heard that only Laterano's "Angels" could produce it, with low yield and mediocre purity. Laterano usually held mass prayers to create it, sprinkling it over their nomadic cities to lower the infection rate. Other countries bought it, but usually at the cost of an equal volume of Pure Originium—it was a luxury item that was often unavailable even if one had the money.
Patriot then mixed about half a bottle of the Holy Water into a large container of fresh water for the squad. This time, no one turned into a lightbulb, but everyone felt a warm power coursing through them. Even the Originium shards on Patriot's skin began to dissolve, replaced by new, healthy flesh.
This puzzled Patriot deeply. To his knowledge, even if Holy Water could alleviate a Sarkaz's condition, it usually involved agonizing pain. That was the biological trade-off for their race. Yet now, he felt no pain—only comfort.
Could it be that this Holy Water does not come from Laterano? If so, who in this world has the power to create it?