Chapter 377: The Gatekeeper’s Battle
The world unveiled its complexities before her in what felt like the mere flutter of an eyelash. A trio of blasphemous believers, cleverly disguised as devout individuals of the Death Church, launched their unexpected offensive. The local guards, clad in their signature obsidian armor, quickly sprang into action to counter the sudden threats. Meanwhile, the wastewater treatment facility employees, a group numbering in the dozens, found themselves embroiled in conflict with these guardians. The area descended into chaos almost instantly.
A disturbing truth emerged from the turmoil: the entire team operating the wastewater treatment facility had been gradually replaced. The infiltration was absolute; the facility was entirely under enemy control.
This revelation explained the lack of action against pollution in the sedimentation tanks and the pipes. The missing “elements” from the sewer system hadn’t just inexplicably disappeared. Instead, they had established a fortified base right under the unsuspecting eyes of city officials and the Death Church itself.
Questions buzzed in Agatha’s mind. How had these sacrilegious followers of the Nether Lord dared to invoke the name of the God of Death? How had these pretenders, masquerading as facility workers, slipped past her sharp vigilance? What had become of the genuine employees?
The situation’s urgency left Agatha little room to ponder these mysteries.
A dark hound’s potent, corrosive presence surged towards her, while a sphere of dark energy narrowly missed her, striking a nearby pillar. The mental assault continuously unleashed by the demon jellyfish severely hampered her thoughts and movements. Simultaneously, a haunted woman with a feline-shaped demon raised her hand from afar to cast a spell. Agatha’s surroundings were soon beset by intersecting bloodstains, and even the slightest contact of her robe with these bloody insignias resulted in immediate disintegration to dust.
It was a skillfully designed and well-coordinated ambush. The puzzle pieces started to fall into place, explaining why these deviants had boldly gathered under the guise of a routine “inspection.” Were they audacious enough to challenge the gatekeeper of the Death Church directly?
“How naïve,” Agatha murmured, lightly tapping her staff on the floor.
The sound was unassuming but resonated like a thunderclap, sending spectral waves from the base of her staff in all directions. An eerie silence engulfed everything in its vicinity as the area around the sedimentation tank was shrouded in shadow. Everything in sight was painted in stark shades of grey and black, freezing allies and foes alike while a faint luminescence seeped through distant doors, windows, and fresh cracks in the ceiling.
In this spectral, otherworldly domain, Agatha calmly surveyed her environment through the unique eye embedded in the palm of her left hand. With an unnerving, laser-like focus, she examined the true forms of the deviant heretics and the parasitic demons obediently following their directives.
Satisfied that no concealed enemies lurked in the shadows, Agatha raised her staff and subtly directed the guardians back to the concrete realm of reality with a gentle swing through the air.
“Feast,” Agatha softly commanded in a voice that was little more than a whisper.
In response to her command, the inhabitants of the spirit realm sprang to life. Shadows dwelling in the hidden corners and recesses of this world responded obediently to the call of the Death Church’s gatekeeper. In a fraction of a second, an immeasurable swarm of shadows burst forth from all around the sedimentation pond, the adjoining walls, the complex network of pipes, and even from the dauntingly high ceiling. They congregated like a stirred-up crowd or a herd of stampeding beasts, sliding along all surfaces and swiftly converging upon the enemies within Agatha’s direct line of sight.
Every visible surface teemed with writhing, undulating shadows. The sight was eerie enough to send chills down anyone’s spine. However, Agatha merely observed this unsettling spectacle with a calm, unperturbed demeanor. Her right eye was wide open, entirely void of any emotional disturbance; meanwhile, her left eye remained tightly shut as the ocular orb in her left hand spun continuously, keeping a vigilant watch on every slight movement around her.
The first to be swallowed by the writhing shadows were the “counterfeit” creatures. The shadows swiftly engulfed them, silent yet rapid, eradicating and dissolving them until no trace remained.
Next, these menacing shadows surged towards the three Annihilators and their respective parasitic familiars.
As the demons became aware of the impending threat, a strange crackling noise resonated from their forms and the chains that bound them. Their demonic flames flickered wildly, and the bodies of the Annihilators started to tremble rhythmically. In this ethereal realm, where everything else was frozen in stillness, they somehow managed to regain mobility!
The young man with the symbiotic demonic jellyfish was the first to move. He struggled free from the spirit realm’s restrictions and instinctively cast his gaze toward Agatha.
Almost simultaneously, the aged, gaunt man with the dark hound also regained his ability to move. Seeing his comrade’s actions, he immediately cried out in warning: “Don’t lock eyes with the gatekeeper!”
However, his warning was in vain—the young cultist’s gaze was already fixed on the “triangular area” where Agatha stood.
Agatha raised her left hand, elevating her ocular orb as if deliberately showcasing it to the young cultist.
The heretic found himself transfixed, his gaze irresistibly drawn to the eyeball nestled in Agatha’s hand. His stare was spellbound, almost entranced, as if his very being was magnetically drawn toward the unusual spectacle. Gradually, a serene smile adorned his countenance.
It was as if, in that singular moment, he had unlocked the deep-seated truths of life and death, uncovering the meaning and answers he had long sought.
“Ah, what a magnificent sight…” he softly murmured, smiling serenely as he surrendered to the encroaching sea of shadows.
He and his demonic companion were swiftly torn apart by the relentless tidal wave of shadows.
As this heretic was consumed, a chilling, unnatural scream echoed nearby. A surge of wind pressure rapidly approached from the right. Displaying impressive agility, Agatha sidestepped just as an invisible blade whizzed past her forehead. She swiftly turned to locate the origin of the assault.
The pallid woman, symbiotically bonded with the feline-shaped demon, shrieked gutturally at Agatha. Her mouth distorted into a grotesque, alien-like orifice, compacting her blasphemous curse into a concentrated sonic assault. Her next blade was already taking shape.
Disregarding the dark hound and the frail, elderly man behind her, Agatha redirected her staff towards the pallid woman, whose form had begun to reveal demonic mutations. Simultaneously, she lifted her left hand, brandishing her ocular orb once again.
The pallid woman instinctively evaded the eye’s gaze in Agatha’s hand, but her evasion was met with the resounding crack of a gunshot.
A brilliant flame erupted from the end of Agatha’s staff, and a large-caliber silver bullet splattered the woman’s grotesquely mutated head.
In the next moment, as the decapitated body of the heretic toppled and was consumed by shadows, a wave of corrosive breath targeted Agatha’s back.
Black flames and smoke billowed from the point of impact, only to be rapidly dispersed. Agatha’s black coat remained impeccably intact, showing no signs of damage.
She gradually turned her gaze to the final cultist still standing—the emaciated old man, wide-eyed with shock and terror.
“I thought you had thoroughly researched and planned before daring to set this trap,” Agatha stated calmly, studying her final opponent. “But judging from your reaction, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Were you three merely sacrificial lambs, recklessly thrown into the chaos as bait?”
The remaining cultist’s eyes widened further, his terror now intermingled with confusion.
Agatha astutely observed this shift in his expression.
“Is this what you were looking for?” she inquired with unnerving tranquility.
She abruptly opened her mouth, and a dense, corrosively potent shadow breath formed instantaneously before her. Emulating the same trajectory and velocity it had struck her, the shadow breath was launched back towards the dark hound beside the skeletal old man!
Realizing the imminent threat, the dark hound tried to evade with lightning-like speed. However, as if guided by its own sentient will, the returning corrosive breath adjusted its course mid-flight. It homed in unerringly on the skull of the dark hound, and after a brief moment of stillness, the demon, now a mere pile of disjointed bones, shattered into fragments on the spot.
The skeletal cultist, bound symbiotically with the demon, let out a terrifying scream. Though he hadn’t been directly hit, he immediately collapsed in unbearable pain, rendered entirely incapacitated.
The shadows readied themselves to swallow him in a matter of seconds, keen to continue their voracious feast.
“Spare this one for me,” Agatha’s voice echoed, accentuated by the resonant thud of her staff striking the ground. “Stand down.”
The shadows quivered uneasily. Waves of hostility and eerie, indistinct whispers resounded like a storm throughout the area. Some shadows even inched towards Agatha.
However, Agatha’s demeanor remained resolute. She lifted her staff and slammed it forcefully onto the ground, igniting a thunderous roar that reverberated throughout the vicinity.
“Begone.”
After a brief moment of stillness and silence, all the shadows receded as swiftly as an ebbing tide.
It’s all but confirmed at this point that the death church “envoy” is going to be Agatha. She’s gonna too much screen time to be a throwaway now:
Plus, she had contact with the Captain. There is no chance of her not being an envoy.
dont jump to conclusions just yet, the author isn’t that straightforward
I almost feel like maybe that won’t happen, just because it’s too obvious, but I’m not sure who else. I guess the gravekeeper? I think I’d like him more actually. He’s a brave and honorable fellow, although old. Also at this point I’d prefer adding another male to crew, just because it gives me harem vibes (which I dislike personally) when a male MC starts collecting a lot of female characters nearby.
Agatha is a total badass though, so she’d be pretty useful as a crew member, and I agree with you that the amount of screen time makes that the likely outcome.
As a side note, I love how interesting the author makes all of the side characters. Right now I’m excited to see what’s going to happen with Captain Lawrence and the White Oak.
If Vanna is a “paladin” archetype, Agatha is a “warlock.”
Although such a character would diversify the abilities of Duncan’s crew, Bartok’s abilities come at a price, and a pope is needed for the seat of the church. An agent of Bartok who is also bound to Duncan has tremendous advantages, because the costs can be put on Duncan’s “tab,” but it can’t be allowed for the top echelons. The agent of Bartok that joins as an envoy should be the old gravekeeper, and it’s likely that he will volunteer because Duncan has picked up another little girl with a strange fate. I don’t know what that fate is, exactly, but her connections so far hint that it probably exists. Beings with a strong fate are attracted to each other as if by gravity wells around them, but bending causality instead of space. Or so I usually interpret things, and in that light the little girl has too many connections to Duncan to be a minor character, even if she hasn’t yet bloomed into that potential.
I am curious about the fate of the Captain of the white oak and his lost wife(?). Three encounters with Duncan, each far apart, and each during a significant supernatural danger not caused by Duncan. The connection of being a captain in the first place, a domain under which Duncan reigns supreme. The resonance between his type of madness and the anomaly swallowing Frost, and the likelihood that his wife was claimed by the same anomaly long ago. Sure, he could free his wife and both could rest in Bartok’s embrace, but he could also become the captain of a new ghost ship under Duncan’s influence, and that would be cool. If he were to forsake reality and sail eternally through the abyssal mirror realm, he would be an interesting addition to ghost flame ship, zombie pirate fleet, and doll cyborg research vessel. The abyssal mirror realm is a problem because it’s encroaching on reality, but it’s likely something natural that isn’t inherently malicious even if it’s dangerous. A type of power that one could reasonably harness, and is probably important to do so if you want to stabilize the space and prevent it from being used as an attack vector again. It’s also fun to imagine everyone freaking out because Duncan seemingly casually created another subordinate vision, aside from his children who were corrupted by his fall.
was martha stated to be his wife? i was thinking she was his old captain or navigator
Martha is Captain White Oak’s Wife
These heretics just discovered ‘f*ck around and find out’
Personally I feel if there’s going to be a new crew member it could be the little girl Annie
Say Vanna isn’t dead anymore right? Since no fire means no her being killed no reborn
She’s never dead, she was transformed into subspace shadow when she was dying. No resurrection involved. Even if she’s not burned in fire in the past, the subspace prayer still exists, the fee has been paid, and the blessings has been handed over. She’s still changed because the fire wasn’t the cause of her transformation.
Unlike Morris’ wife who got killed in the fire, the cause of Vanna’s transformation is subspace. Morris’ wife is alive now because the cause of her death, the fire, is nonexistent. Vanna’s transformation can’t be reverted because the subspace entity who granted Dante’s prayer is still existing.
As if mere heretics could defeat a Saint in combat. And Agatha is so frickin badass, I just love the way she fights, tap the floor, calls a bunch of shadow monsters, and shoot a bullet with her staff. Wow
I have a feeling that the bishop has been replaced with a replica or become a cultist and started to corrupt the death God which is why other cultists can pray to him without consequence.
Remember none of the other priests or gatekeepers knew how he was injured. Clear indication of some form of cognitive disruption. It’s highly likely that the Church of the death God is the cultists actual hideout at this point.