Nexus Awakened (An Isekai LitRPG Gender Bender Story)

916. A Blood Angel Arrives

The clopping of leather boots pronounced the arrival of a white-haired woman.

The spectacular pale interior of the first floor of Time Reverberation’s Headquarters was bustling with over a hundred newly introduced Healers, and dozens of Aspiring Moons who called this Department home.

The black-bricked pathways were spotless, just as how the white-haired woman expected it to be. It would be a concerning sight if there was even a smidge of filth in a place that cooped up so many Moons in one place.

Her red and blue eyes studied the vast interior like a hawk.

Healers who carried the same hair color could not help but notice the strange presence she gave off. Casual conversations paused, and Healers who tended to the botanical gardens of the Hora Therapeutic Department stopped and stared at the woman.

She brushed a black gloved hand along whatever was closest. This included the Healers. Red veins ran through her glove and any time she touched a Healer, the red glow of her nebulizer mask dimmed.

“98.3% air purity. With a little effort, we may be able to breathe this air without compromising ourselves.”

She spoke in a dark, emotionless tone. The reaction she received from the Healers was akin to being an exotic animal at the zoo. Even Black Wings and Sanguine Doves did not receive such recognition, let alone fear amongst the Healer population.

Was it because she was a Scarlet Healer?

Not even close.

She was adorned in the same red garb that Scarlet Healers wore. But accompanying it was a black gas mask and an air-tight body suit. They ensured that her body was always submerged in a thin layer of flowing blood. The gas mask also nebulized blood into a red mist, allowing her to breathe comfortably in environments that did not support 100% air purity.

If it was not already obvious, this woman was a Blood Angel.

Attached to her waist were vials of blood, scrolls and a manner of sacred talismans. Held in one hand was a large black book. It carried the symbol of a red apple; a symbol of their suffering during the wars of Atlas, the Dark Ages, and, most notably – their role in the War in Heaven.

Blood Angels were the oldest surviving Healers outside of the Mothers and the Perched of the Ascelpien. As a result, their eyes which were once full and vibrant with life became weathered into those belonging to a hardened veteran.

She approached a random group of Healers. They were the same as her, but her presence made them shrink as she stared back with terror.

“Is Beholder Jury present in her office? I’ve returned from my business trip. Act X wouldn’t give me the time of day until a Star came to clear my name. I’m sure they mistook me for another wretched face.” She spoke, hoping to hear an answer.

A Healer squeaked:

“Do… We know you? I mean – Y-Yes! Beholder Jury is here!”

“Good. That Herald would have lost their head if they had lied to me.” She clicked her tongue.

It was not an expression of disdain. Rather, this was simply her way of speaking. But the Healers misinterpreted it agitation.

They were about to ask if they had done something wrong to offend her. But they were suddenly stumped when she recited a random string of words.

“Blood Angel: Twenty – Two; Traumatic. Blame not yourselves for succumbing to fear. Still, hasn’t it been a while since we last met?”

“Eh…?” The Healers had never met this woman before, and they didn’t know how to reply.

That was until a Black Wing stepped in to clear up the misunderstanding.

“Do all Healers look the same to you Blood Angels?”

“Fortunately, yes. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to tell apart a Healer from the ordinary. I’m sure I’ve seen you before as well.”

“Not even close. Gotta wonder how a Healer that can’t pick apart other Healers ended up being one of Beholder Jury’s personal aides.”

“Would you like to test how your mind will fare with a dose of a prohibited Serum?”

The comradery of the Healers was not shared or viewed in the same lens as the Blood Angels. The Scarlet Healers were similar to an extent. While Black Wings and the Sanguine Doves were Healers that swore revenge on those who wronged them through sheer force, the Blood Angels operated covertly and in utter secrecy.

Because of this many hadn’t even met another Healer for hundreds of years. This was only part of the reason why she couldn’t tell the Healers apart.

The main reason was a certain Serum.

She tapped a peculiar vial strapped to her waist. A grey liquid sloshed within. Merely gazing at it caused the Black Wing to wince.

“Tsk… Close your eyes, girls. This Blood Angel’s brought something dangerous.”

“All compounds are dangerous when it’s misused. I find it hilariously pitiful that a Black Wing, who serves as the ‘Bulwark’ of the Amalgam, recoils at the sight of their own reflection. That name is better suited for the Vermilion Moons.”

It was a vial of liquified fear. Those who stared at it for even a single second had a traumatic memory flash before their eyes.

“But I suppose you’re only an initiate Black Wing. Two golden feathers. Do they give it out so easily? In my time, Witches had to perform profane spells to even be considered worthy of an inkling of recognition.”

“Times have changed. We don’t use outdated methods here.”

“And I’m grateful for it. It’d be a shame if more Healers were to walk down this same path. There hasn’t been another case of Blood Angels or Scarlet Healers for the last 50 years. I believe that Poena was one of the last of her kind. I only find it a shame that a new, hateful kind of Healer has appeared. Do take good care of them.”

If the Blood Angel were to spill even a droplet here, then every Healer within a one-hundred-meter radius would go mad.

This was Serum T – Traumatic.

The fact that she was allowed here with such dangerous equipment was a testament to the level of trust placed on her. Her mask contained a mixture of 82% blood, 3% purified air, 10% of Serum H, and 5% of Serum T.

One of the major side effects of consuming Serum T was the inability to differentiate friends from foe. Although this was limited to those who did not have a significant presence to bypass the effect.

Thankfully, they could still recognize Beholders by name.

The Blood Angel hid the vial away behind her red garb and walked off, leaving the group behind without uttering a word of goodbye.

The Black Wing was stumped. She didn’t expect the Blood Angel to agree with her. If anything, the Blood Angel should have spited her for being from a generation that had it easy compared to what she had to endure.

“If you wish to advocate and defend the Healers as a Healer, then your mind cannot falter. I feel like the Amalgam may learn this the hard way with the Black Wings.”

She was realistic with her expectations. As powerful as the Black Wings were, they were not invincible. Everything had a limit, be it living or non-living. She had spent enough time fabricating machines to know that even the largest Atelier Installations were only as strong as their weak points.

“But that is why I am here as Beholder Jury’s appointed Advisor.”

She walked into the Central Relay that sat in the center of the Department. After confirming with the prompt that she wanted to enter the Floor of the Head, her body disappeared and reappeared in a much smaller and darker chamber.

The walls were painted in a way that made them appear larger than they actually were. The lights that floated around also gave the illusion that she was walking amongst the stars.

She approached the front desk and asked to be taken to Beholder Jury.

* * *

Her name was Ragnelle, a Blood Angel with over 500 years to her name.

321 of which were spent as a Blood Angel, and the rest, long before the appearance of the First Advent, as a Witch.

Witches from centuries ago vastly differed from the Witches of today, to the point where the only similarities were that they practiced unorthodox and experimental magic. They were the pioneers of magic machinery and were considered the first engineers of civilization.

This was true even to this day. Witches were known for their machines and excellence in Golemancy, amongst their experience in esoteric knowledge. One example was Ragnelle herself, who was the creator of a Phenom of Contempt named Gawain – a magical, living knight that carried the soul and viscera of her betrothed.

Another such Witch of the old named the Lady of the Lake who created Galahad, another living construct and unsurprisingly, a Phenom of Contempt.

In a way, they were the first to pioneer Qoph.

Witches of the old were the first recorded groups to experience persecution due to their divination, which was now known as the Blessing of the Nexus.

Indeed. What made Witches ‘Witches’ hundreds of years ago was their Blessing. Modern Witches did not enjoy the Blessing of the Nexus, but this in turn gave them far more freedom to pursue forbidden knowledge.

More often than not, modern Witches sided with the White Midnight and magical Kingdoms due to the Golden Dawn’s restrictions on prohibited magic or concepts. One of which was the act of reanimating a corpse.

Ragnelle was equal parts an ancient Witch, a Healer (with Healing magic), and partially an Honored One. Partially, because the most she could do was manipulate her own blood. She couldn’t command vampires at will like other Honored Ones.

This was because it conflicted with her Healing powers. Somehow, the blood she bared was incompatible with the purity she wielded as a Healer, even though she was not fully restrained by the limitations of Healers

Although, she couldn’t hurt people directly. But if she created a tool, machine or a trap to do her bidding – then it wasn’t technically her that was doing the deed.