Under the slate-grey sky, Agatha found herself standing alone on the city street. The wind was as bitter as the frozen north, surging through the barren gap between towering buildings and ruthlessly assaulting her exposed face. It had a chilling touch that snapped her out of her pensive trance and back into the harsh reality. Despite the stark awakening, her mind remained consumed by a myriad of questions that threatened to shake the very foundations of her understanding and beliefs.
“Is it not the norm to commend those who take the initiative to report suspicions of heresy in Frost?”
“Is it possible that you’ve never operated a bank account? Does your church not engage in day-to-day interactions with ordinary folks?”
“Did you fail to identify that what you saw was a bank account number?”
The mere thought that her most significant oversight in dealing with the ethereal could happen in such mundane circumstances was beyond Agatha’s wildest imagination. She was certain that Bishop Ivan of the cathedral, and the passionate cryptographers and diviners who were tirelessly deciphering the “cryptic numbers” in the sacred hall, would share her astonishment.
A rhythmic clatter of approaching footsteps broke her contemplation. Her subordinates, who had taken refuge in a shelter adjacent to the building, were closing in. One of the guardians, dressed in an austere black uniform, noticed Agatha’s dazed demeanor and voiced his worry, “Are you alright? That house…”
Agatha swiftly raised her hand, cutting him mid-sentence. She took a brief backward glance, then laboriously moved towards a nearby steam-powered car, heavily reliant on her cane for support. Her voice was barely above a whisper, “Leave the inhabitants of this house undisturbed. Alert the local chapel and advise the guardians to steer clear from here. The Silent Cathedral will manage all direct communications with this residence.”
“Understood, Gatekeeper,” the black-clad guardian bowed in acknowledgement of his new directives. “Do you… require some rest?”
Agatha paused, then exhaled a weary sigh, “If it were possible, I’d immediately visit the closest church sanctuary or seek guidance from a reputable psychiatrist…”
The subordinate appeared startled, “Pardon?”
“Never mind that. I don’t need any rest,” Agatha dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand, “Let’s head back to the cathedral. We need to initiate the search beneath the city-state immediately.”
…
“The church’s representatives have departed,” Morris observed from the comfort of his window, keeping a keen eye on the street activity. As the grey-blue steam car vanished into the intersection, he turned to Duncan, “I was certain they’d leave behind a few of their ‘observers’.”
“A gatekeeper in the Church of Death holds the same stature as an inquisitor in the Storm Church. She is bound by her promise. If she vowed not to cause disturbance, there wouldn’t be any underhanded tactics,” Vanna interjected from the side, “Moreover, she realizes that such actions would be futile.”
At this, Duncan quirked an eyebrow, shooting a glance at Vanna, “I half-expected you’d want to engage with that gatekeeper. After all, both of you tread the same path.”
“I struggle to envision any topic we could engage in,” Vanna dismissed the notion with a shake of her head. “My standing is rather complicated. As an inquisitor of the Storm Church or a representative of the Vanished, initiating dialogue with Frost’s church at this stage would only invite unnecessary complications.”
Duncan grunted noncommittally, choosing not to comment. The silence stretched on until Nina’s curiosity compelled her to speak up. “That ‘gatekeeper’ nun appeared rather enthused when she departed as though she harbored some strategy… What’s this search plan she hinted at? Uncle, do you have any insights?”
Both Vanna and Morris simultaneously cast their inquiring gazes upon Duncan. After a thoughtful pause, he slightly nodded in agreement.
Initially, he had been surprised, but now he had managed to puzzle out the situation—Agatha’s response was a clear indication: after the fruitless searches within the main sections of the city-state, it appeared that the Church of Death had shifted its focus to the murky underworld.
The Second Waterway.
In the past, due to its prohibitive costs and logistical challenges, the authorities of Frost had chosen to leave the Second Waterway—a relic from the queen’s reign—dormant deep within the city-state’s subterranean bowels. Their intervention was usually limited to occasional symbolic cleansing and sealing procedures within the upper sectors that connected to the waterway. However, the current circumstances seemed to suggest that they could no longer afford to worry about the cost implications.
Duncan glanced up at Vanna, “Drop by Nemo’s pub again later today and forewarn him. The church might be on the brink of launching an operation targeting the Second Waterway. He and his ‘associates’ should remain on high alert.”
The Second Waterway was a sprawling network, and the section controlled by Nemo and his “associates” was but a small portion of the entire sewage system. This particular segment was intentionally concealed and sealed off, rendering it virtually invisible to the city’s authorities and the church. Although it should theoretically escape detection, there was no telling just how resolved the church was in their current pursuit. Therefore, a precautionary alert seemed prudent.
“Moreover, the situation concerning Dagger Island is equally disconcerting,” Duncan added after a moment of contemplation. “The process leading to the island’s vanishing is glaringly inconsistent with reason. I fear it may be a harbinger of more unusual events to follow. Morris, keep tabs on various city news, particularly in the districts near the eastern port, for any peculiar rumors.”
Morris acknowledged the instructions with a nod, “Understood.”
“We ought to alert Tyrian as well, to monitor any anomalies within that maritime zone…”
As Duncan stroked his chin, he quietly muttered to himself, meticulously reviewing his plans to ensure no detail was overlooked. At that moment, he noticed Shirley stealthily approaching him.
Her movements were quiet and seemed somewhat surreptitious.
“What seems to be the issue?” Duncan queried, adopting a casual tone.
“It’s not an issue with me, it’s about Dog,” Shirley swiftly dismissed with a wave of her hand, then lifted her arm—a black chain magically materialized out of nowhere, at the end of which, Dog, who had taken a hasty retreat when Gatekeeper Agatha showed up, now emerged before Duncan. “Dog claimed he has something to report…”
“An incident?” Duncan frowned, his gaze landing on the apprehensive dark hound. “What kind of incident?”
Dog shook his grotesque head and cautiously glanced towards the door before voicing his concern, “I can’t be entirely certain if I’m mistaken, but that gatekeeper named Agatha… I detect an aura about her that’s strikingly familiar…”
An uneasy silence blanketed the room, and Duncan’s eyes hardened instantaneously. “A familiar aura? What are you suggesting? A shadow demon?”
“No, not a shadow demon,” Dog was quick to shake his head in denial. “I’m struggling to articulate it clearly. You’re aware, my memories prior to receiving a ‘heart’ are somewhat foggy, but that aura… it somewhat echoes the ambiance I experienced in the presence of the Nether Lord.”
Upon hearing Dog’s revelation, everyone exchanged a flurry of perplexed glances, whereas Duncan, his expression grim, demanded, “Why did you not mention this earlier?”
“I didn’t dare to reveal myself just then!” Dog recoiled slightly, “She is a gatekeeper after all. Of course, she’s no match for you, but given that Frost is currently sweeping the entire city for disciples of Annihilation and shadow demons, I feared that exposing myself could lead to a misunderstanding, which might inadvertently impede your operations…”
Dog’s justification held some weight, and Duncan decided against interrogating him further, but the situation it had reported certainly took everyone by surprise.
Gatekeeper Agatha, the preserver of Frost… how could she possibly harbor the aura of the Nether Lord?!
“Could it be… has the gatekeeper fallen from grace? Or has she been corrupted?” Morris pondered aloud, his tone laden with concern. “But her demeanor appeared utterly normal. There wasn’t any discrepancy in her speech or behavior…”
“Could she be oblivious to it?” Shirley tentatively chimed in from the sidelines. “Isn’t it said that cognitive corruption is the most elusive to detect, particularly for the person at the heart of it?”
Duncan remained silent but shifted his gaze towards Vanna.
“She doesn’t seem to have fallen or been corrupted, and she’s definitely not an imposter,” Vanna’s brow furrowed as she slowly articulated her thoughts, revisiting the various nuances of Agatha. “I didn’t detect any abnormal aura emanating from her. Dog, are you absolutely certain about what you sensed?”
“As I mentioned earlier, I’m not entirely confident if I interpreted the sensation accurately,” Dog articulated, his voice resonating with a sense of unease. “It was merely a subtle aura that echoed the profundity of the abyssal deep sea… It might not even be intrinsically hers. Besides, didn’t she mention that she recently apprehended some disciples of Annihilation? Even though they weren’t particularly significant figures, wouldn’t it be expected for her to have inadvertently absorbed some aura from the abyssal deep sea after incessantly dealing with them on a daily basis…”
Nevertheless, Duncan continued to furrow his brows.
While Dog’s rationale appeared plausible, he sensed that the situation wasn’t that straightforward. Would a seasoned priestess, a “gatekeeper” of the city-state, neglect to purify herself after interrogating heretics? Would she nonchalantly roam about, tainted by the aura of the heretics?
Vanna stepped forward, posing a question, “Should we summon the ‘gatekeeper’ here to clarify the situation? Or should we go to her?”
“Neither. If she is indeed on the brink of falling or has forged an alliance with the shadowy entities, any direct interaction could potentially tip her off,” Duncan shook his head, his gaze trailing in the direction Agatha had vanished. “I’ll stealthily monitor the situation. The rest of you should refrain from contacting her.”
Stealthily monitor?
Vanna paused, about to probe what Duncan meant by “stealthily monitor”, when something seemed to jog her memory—certain past recollections floated to the surface, leading to a sudden realization.
“You… implanted a mark on her?”
“She has seen me.”
Duncan responded with a slight nod. In his peripheral vision, a tiny green flame flickered softly at a spot a fair distance from their location.
That was the direction in which Agatha had exited.
