Chapter 203 “Both Sides of the Curtain”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Torrential rain plummeted from the sky, engulfing the entire city of Pland in an intense and unparalleled deluge. To bystanders, it felt as though a vast, unfathomable abyss had consumed the world. The skies were painted with a dark, inky hue, and the rain’s violent onslaught relentlessly assaulted the city’s buildings. It was like a siege – an unseen force covertly attacking the city.
Even those who usually paid little attention to their surroundings could sense the eerie atmosphere. School students hurriedly made their way home, shopkeepers hastily shuttered their establishments, the homeless sought refuge in the nearest available shelter, and the city’s security forces braced themselves, activating every defense mechanism in anticipation of a potential threat.
Amidst this foreboding ambiance, Heidi drove her car right up to the plaza in front of the city’s primary cathedral. Remarkably, the rain here was slightly less ferocious than in other parts of the city. Some might attribute this to divine intervention, but for Heidi, a doctor by profession, this anomaly only intensified her concerns. To her, it signified that this wasn’t a natural rainstorm, but rather, an event manipulated by supernatural entities.
As Heidi approached, the church sentries recognized her and quickly swung open the vast main doors, permitting her to hurry into the cathedral, whose entrance was marked by three tall spires. Despite the short distance from her car to the entrance, she was thoroughly soaked by the chilly rain.
But personal comfort was the last thing on Heidi’s mind. The moment she stepped inside the cathedral, she felt an unsettling tension in the air, as if her very soul sensed a veiled confrontation taking place within the hallowed precincts.
A quiet clergyman met her at the entrance. Upon her urgent insistence, he quickly relayed her arrival to Bishop Valentine, who was deep in prayer within the cathedral’s central chamber. An agonizing three-minute wait ensued before Heidi was finally granted an audience with the venerable bishop.
To Heidi’s astonishment, Bishop Valentine was adorned in his ceremonial attire, complete with an ornate tri-pronged crown, a lengthy sanctified staff, and the revered Storm Codex secured at his side.
This was no everyday attire; the bishop only donned such garments for the most sacred of ceremonies. The weight and grandeur of these items would exhaust even the fittest individual merely by wearing them. Yet, Bishop Valentine carried them with a poised grace. His gaze was intense, almost as if a tempest was raging within his very eyes.
“My child, what has happaned?” Bishop Valentine inquired solemnly.
Taking a deep breath, Heidi responded, “I seek sanctuary, and not just any sanctuary but the highest level of protection. I wish for the entire Storm Cathedral to shield me, the daughter of Pland’s most renowned historian.”
“The most esteemed historian of Pland…” Bishop Valentine repeated the words slowly, locking his intense gaze with Heidi’s. The irises of his eyes seemed to harbor actual flashes of lightning, an evident sign of the divine favor bestowed upon such a distinguished bishop by the goddess herself. He paused momentarily, as if connecting with some ethereal guidance, then with a discernible nod he affirmed, “Your plea has been heard, my child. The cathedral shall be your sanctuary, and you will be protected here.”
Heidi exhaled deeply, her eyes fixed on the imposing figure of Bishop Valentine, captivated by the palpable gravitas surrounding him. She had sensed a heightened state of readiness within the cathedral even before her arrival, an atmosphere thick with the anticipation of conflict. Searching for clarity, she implored, “Please, enlighten me. What has happened?”
Bishop Valentine’s face remained stoic as he replied, “We are at war. An entity has declared war on Pland. This unnatural storm that engulfs our city-state is a battle cry, a declaration. But it was only with your arrival that the identity of our foe became apparent.”
“War?!” The word struck Heidi like a cold slap, “Who opposes us? Where are they?”
With a deep, measured breath, Valentine fixed his gaze on Heidi, taking a moment before revealing, “The adversary is Pland itself, but a version of Pland long obliterated from the annals of history.”
Suddenly, a deafening explosion resonated through the cathedral, causing its very foundations to tremble. Heidi’s eyes widened in terror as she observed the stained-glass windows vibrating from the impact. Glancing upwards, she noticed the grand chandelier swaying precariously. As her attention was drawn to the ground beneath her, she felt the rhythmic march of countless spiderwalkers congregating in the plaza, accompanied by the resonating hum of steam tanks mobilizing from the cathedral’s armory.
Panicking, Heidi swiveled towards Bishop Valentine. He stood unfazed amidst the chaos, reminiscent of an unyielding rock amidst stormy seas. Struggling to find her voice, she stammered, “Is the foe approaching?!”
Valentine responded in a hushed tone, yet his words were crisply audible even against the cacophonous backdrop of thunder and turmoil, “The enemy is not coming, Heidi. They’ve been here for years…”
……
With a forceful downward swing, Vanna’s sword cleaved through the debris strewn across the street, revealing the heartbreaking sight before her: once-sturdy homes now lay in ruins, roads were obscured by mounds of rubble, and amidst the smoldering embers, grotesque shapes that once resembled human forms writhed slowly. The devastation was almost too much to bear, especially since she recognized these figures – they were the citizens of Pland.
These unfortunate souls had perished in this version of history and had been reshaped into these monstrous forms by malevolent dark forces.
Deep emotions surged within the young inquisitor, causing her to tightly press her pale, dry lips together. However, the acute pain in her muscles and the scorching sensation in her lungs served as stark reminders that this horrifying reality was not yet set in stone. Perhaps with her intervention, it could still be altered.
As Vanna stood at the Crossroad, a fleeting glimmer caught her eye: amidst the ember-covered ground, a ghostly green flame intermittently flickered. It bore the mark of a sinister ghost captain who existed in this corrupted version of history.
The role and intent of this ghost captain remained an enigma to Vanna. She couldn’t fathom its purpose or how it fit into this twisted narrative. All she knew was that this malignant entity had wormed its way into this tragic rendition of Pland, resisting the distortions.
After navigating the debris-strewn streets for several minutes, Vanna finally reached her destination in this time frame: a chapel that had miraculously remained unscathed amidst the widespread inferno.
Her journey to reach the chapel, located in the city’s sixth block, was anything but uneventful. To be precise, she had carved a path of destruction through the city.
Drawing her sword, Vanna cleared the remaining obstacles and pushed open the scorched metal gate, revealing a prayer hall dimly illuminated by the glowing embers from the outside. As she proceeded further inside, she soon spotted a staircase that led to a subterranean sanctuary, at the end of which stood a dark wooden door.
Taking a brief moment to catch her breath and soothe her aching body, Vanna decided to leave behind the machine gun she had taken from a spiderwalker. She trusted her church-issued broadsword far more.
Descending the staircase, Vanna tested the wooden door. As she had suspected, it was locked. Yet, as she strained her ears, she could detect the soft, rhythmic breathing of another sister trapped within. Without a second thought, she summoned her strength and shattered the metal hinges, forcing the door open.
“Don’t! The door must remain sealed!” A voice, filled with shock and anxiety, echoed through the room. There was an uncanny, almost ethereal resonance to it as if it was layered with multiple tones.
“It’s alright,” Vanna announced, confidently entering with her greatsword’s tip dragging along the floor. The friction created a cascade of sparks with every step she took. Recognizing the palpable tension, Vanna, ever the prepared inquisitor, reached for the robust lantern at her waist, illuminating her surroundings. “I’m one of you — a battle sister.”
In the lantern’s light, a young nun, her hand gripping a long sword, stood defensively at the base of a statue. Her gaze was fixed intently on Vanna, clearly startled by the sudden intrusion. The nun’s attire was noticeably old-fashioned, reminiscent of robes worn by nuns back in 1885.
Vanna took in the sight of the wary nun and let out a quiet sigh of understanding.
She had hypothesized that only within this tainted reality could she access the true, concealed sanctuary before the tragic demise of this young nun. This chapel in the sixth block appeared to be a pivotal junction in this alternate timeline.
“You’re a sister from the main cathedral?” The nun’s eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the sanctuary’s natural luminance had been long since snuffed out. If Vanna had been more observant, she would have noticed something amiss about the nun’s shadow — it seemed to move with a malevolent intent, poised to strike at a moment’s notice. The nun continued, “You must leave immediately! The corruption here has reached a point of no return. While I still retain some control…”
Vanna, however, remained resolute. Taking measured steps forward, she declared, “I’m here to help.”
Thank you for the chapter!
What is up with the nun? Is the green flame still gobbling up the Sun heirs?