「Hint: Where stoppage has no grasp, the letters lie hidden.」
Carnage eyes breeze through the letters displayed to all by the Covenant. Each of the sinners stares out in confusion, trying to understand its context.
'The stoppage.' Carnage thinks deeply, straining to uncover a link between the passage and his current situation, and the pieces slam into place at once.
"Time!" he blurts, the word tearing from his throat.
"Huh?" Flor ttiltsher head. "What do you mean, Carnage?"
"The stoppage is linked to the hold of time in this village." His attention drifts to Nullen, whose disoriented expression is shifting to understanding.
"Bloody hell… It's finally coming back to me!" He fixes his glasses, the initial worry in his gaze giving way to the shine of delight. "Where stoppage has no grasp, converts to where time is not held, and…" He steps forward, thinking to himself deeply before continuing. "The letters must be the key to finding out the village's name!"
'The mind of scholars has many faults; however, none lies in forgetting.'
Nullen breaks out into a snicker. "I knew I wasn't becoming stupid!"
"Is...he always like this?" Artticus whispers to Flor and Heron, slightly worried about his safety.
"Not that I know of," Flor answers, staring on in concern.
"Once the history of a village is forgotten, as I stated before, it loses its sense of identity. Everything in this hell relies on identity. Just look at the personas; it gives a person a role…an identity to cover their sins or true self."
"Where are you going with this?" Artticus moves closer.
"It means the cause of the time stop lies within the loss of identity." Carnage answers before Nullen can.
'That's why it felt awfully similar to what's happening to me.'
"Yup." Nullen nods. "Now, we just have to find the letters and their reasons for burying their entire history just to stop time." He spins to the rest of them. "Anyone notice anything moving other than villagers?"
"Nope, only old trees, stone, and that annoying raven." Artticus grumbles.
'A raven?'
"Was it making noise?" Carnage inquires.
"A lot!" He pauses inwardly, wishing his stone had found its mark and ended the incessant chirp. "Gosh, it was so fuss—" He trails off, spotting their change in demeanor, and gradually realizes that it was a hint. "I guess... you can call it moving right?" He embarrassingly shrugs.
"Where?"
"C-come on, I'll show you the way!"
.
.
.
Their footsteps crunch against the grass, the floor no longer muddy but dry.
During their walk, Flor observes Carnage's busted soles. "Aren't your feet hurting? I can use one of my basic healing potions if it becomes too painful." She suggests.
"No need." Carnage replies. "I'll turn it off if it becomes unbearable." He answers flatly.
Stares for a beat before responding. "Turn it off?"
"Yes, the sensation of pain, I mean." He finishes.
Heron flinches for a second, hearing his explanation. "Just like that?" He asks, the words slipping out despite his will.
Carnage nods, "Precisely."
"That's exceptional," Flor says. "In my world, humans are built severely weak; they wail from minor scratches."
"In mines, they use the pain as momentum for more." Heron adds. "And learning how to disconnect from it is a great feat, honed by only masters."
Carnage neither thanks nor denies their compliments and praises.
They may have seen it as something amazing, and it would be in a different context; nevertheless, in this one, it wasn't. He needed to learn it; he needed to master the art of severing the hold pain had over his body and consciousness.
It was another one of his mechanisms to keep him from breaking, and sometimes it still wasn't able to cancel out the pain of every one of his deaths.
'This is the first time he said something about himself other than his name.' Nullen thinks to himself, watching Carnage's back. 'We know everyone else's artifact or gift, but not his. He's skilled in fighting, but not as skilled as Heron, and his eyes carry no light, except when he fights, making him one of the most suspicious here… However, at least he has it; he doesn't...'
"We're here!" Artticus chimes loudly, and instantly the sound of squawking echoes.
All their eyes trail up the large tree, the rest paling in comparison, their sights landing on the jet-black raven perched on one of its highest branches, peering at them.
"Goddamn bird!" Artticus squeezes his fist, pointing it towards it as a threat.
"It looks like a normal tree?" Heron voices searching its roots.
"Nullen." Carnage calls out, touching the side of his face, gesturing to the glasses. "Use them."
"Right!" He blinks, and it activates. "Let's see." Moving slowly, his gaze sweeps from the ground to the gnarled root, then up the length of the tree. "There's a box inside of it." He stops, eyes locked on the glowing box embedded in the middle of the tree.
"Within the tree." Carnage is about to ask Heron.
"It's too large." Heron replies sharply. "The bark is way thicker than the other." His knuckles tap it. "You'd need more than the power of five men to bring it down, or a sword." He says in defeat.
'Then what other options do we have…'
"Evrad." Nullen deactivates his glasses, studying the quiet boy standing at the side. "He did say he can copy, right, so what can you copy?"
'I forgot about him.'
All eyes fix on him, and he sighs, shaking his head before joining them. "I can copy physical qualities, even if they've been magically enhanced, so yeah, I should be able to copy him."
"Good. That should be enough power, right?" Artticus inquires, yet Nullen doesn't look satisfied.
'What am I not noticing?'
"Perhaps." Heron approaches the tree, Evrad at his side. "There's only one way to find out."
The gentle green glow flares again around Heron, and quickly he shows him a quick punch for him to copy. Evrad takes a moment, measuring every line of his posture, every contraction of muscle, like reading a map of strength. Afterwards, with a confirmation nod, they near the tree, stopping at arm's length.
Slowly, Evrad's muscles tense and contort, mirroring Heron's in his current boosted state.
'interesting.'
In perfect sync, they both draw back their fists and launch forward, air crackling around them as they slam into the tree. A hollow boom ripples outward before the trunk splinters, cracks, and crumbles, revealing a hovering black box.
「First box revealed!」
Safely, it drifts down into Evrad's waiting hands. The others are already moving to his side, but he hardly acknowledges them. His fingers trace the engraved edges with slow, possessive care, a flicker of hunger in his eyes, before he hooks a thumb under the lid and tries to pry it open.
「-The black box is sealed, unable to open-」
Evrad grits his teeth.
'This is where this comes in.' Carnage looks down at the tattoo.