Chapter 209 “Reality Invasion”

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

The relentless rainstorm showed no signs of letting up; in fact, it seemed to be gaining strength. The furious gusts of wind, combined with the pouring rain, pummeled the high walls of the renowned Storm Church, echoing its rage.

In the main square, the imposing silhouettes of spiderwalkers and steam tanks took their positions. Armed to the teeth, the drivers stood their ground, eyes darting around as they vigilantly blocked off major city crossroads, ready to intercept any potential threats.

Elsewhere, atop the bell tower at the cathedral’s rear, a special brazier was set alight. It was fueled by a unique combination of refined whale blubber and driftwood. This particular flame served a dual purpose: it was not only a guiding light for the ships returning home, but its radiant glow, even from great distances, was unparalleled in its majesty and symbolism.

Seeing this, other smaller chapels throughout the city followed suit, lighting similar flames on their respective towers. This orchestrated act was more than symbolic; it formed a vast magical barrier, encircling and safeguarding the entire island from threats.

The Storm Church was a beehive of activity: steam emanated from its boilers, bells rang in harmonious yet urgent tunes, the city’s defenders were on high alert, and citizens sought refuge wherever they could. But beneath this facade of preparedness and safety, an eerie foreboding pervaded. Even those not normally attuned to such things felt an uncanny chill; there was something deeply sinister about this storm.

Inside the lavish confines of the administrator’s mansion, Dante Wayne, freshly roused from his coma, was immediately drawn to the cacophony outside. He looked out, spotting distant lighthouses now brightly illuminated.

With the support of his attendant, he struggled to sit upright and quickly inquired, “The central cathedral has triggered the reality stabilizer… Does this mean we’re facing a reality-level invasion crisis?”

A visibly anxious assistant approached Dante, replying, “We’re still piecing together the details. Events unfolded so rapidly that the cathedral had to act, sealing off various city sections without seeking your consent. Given your condition, Bishop Valentine deemed it necessary to invoke his emergency powers…”

Dante’s thoughts seemed elsewhere, and he interrupted, “…Vanna has returned.”

The assistant looked puzzled, “Miss Vanna? She hasn’t made her way back to the mansion. Last we knew, she was…”

“I’m aware,” Dante interrupted, sensing the others might not grasp the depth of his words. He swiftly changed the subject, “Is the city’s military still under the jurisdiction of City Hall?”

Affirmatively, the assistant replied, “Yes, Bishop Valentine only commandeered the police and a select segment of the city’s defense force dedicated to emergencies. The bulk of our troops await your command.”

Feeling a wave of fatigue, Dante hastily instructed, “Deploy all units, save for the First Division, to coordinate with the church’s plans.”

Furthermore, the city must escalate its security measures to the utmost state of martial law. Sound all the warning sirens, and let it be known that anyone found wandering the streets, regardless of their identity or stature, is to be considered a heretic.”

The aide’s eyes widened in shock at Dante’s directive, “Governor Dante, are you certain…”

Dante cut him off, fixing him with a piercing stare from his haunting ruby eye that seemed to seep blood, “Execute the command. We are effectively at war.”

Swallowing hard, the aide saluted and responded, “UNDERSTOOD, GOVERNOR!”

He hurriedly exited the room to implement the directive. As he left, Dante was seized by a violent bout of coughing so intense that it seemed to rack his entire being. As the fit ebbed away, he motioned to another assistant present, “Escort me to the cathedral.”

“But Sir Dante, your physical condition…”

Dante dismissed the aide’s concern with a wave of his hand, “My health is of secondary concern right now. I have a pressing matter to discuss with Bishop Valentine.”

The aide nodded gravely, “As you wish, Sir.”

……

Huddled behind the window, Nina’s fingers interlocked tightly with Shirley’s. The relentless rainstorm and the thunder’s booming roars outside had set a fear deep within the younger girl’s heart.

“Seriously, what in the XXXXX world is going on with this insane weather…” Shirley exclaimed, her voice tinged with exasperation and fear.

“Shirley, you mustn’t… mustn’t use such language,” Nina, despite her own fear, managed to scold her friend, reminding her, “Uncle always said you shouldn’t…”

Shirley hastily replied, “Alright, alright! I promise I won’t use those words again. Just don’t tell Mr. Duncan.” She then caught a glimpse of a familiar figure descending the stairs from her peripheral vision. “Oh no, Mr. Duncan’s coming down.”

“Uncle Duncan!” With a surge of relief, Nina nearly bolted towards her uncle, her voice echoing her concern, “Is everything settled?”

Duncan managed a half-smile, “For the moment, yes. But this isn’t over yet.” He affectionately tousled Nina’s hair and then gave a significant look to Morris, who stood behind the counter. “She’s returned.”

With a serious expression, Morris nodded, “I sensed it too. I can’t begin to understand how you managed it, but… I’m deeply grateful for your assistance.”

Duncan gazed out at the turbulent storm, his expression contemplative, “We’re only at the beginning. Expressing gratitude now might be premature.” He sighed, “Our adversaries are advancing their plans faster than anticipated. Their forces are currently assaulting the barrier on the other side… I suspect it’s only a matter of time before they breach ours.”

Morris’s face grew more distressed, while Nina’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Uncle, what are you talking about? Which invaders?”

Interrupting her, Duncan’s gaze intensified, “Nina, do you trust me?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, she replied, “With all my heart.”

“That’s what I needed to hear. I want you to believe that we will weather this storm. Whatever transpires, remain calm. Whatever actions I take, do not let fear grip you.” Duncan looked deeply into Nina’s eyes, ensuring the gravity of his words took root. He then glanced over at a doll resting on the counter, “In the direst of circumstances, stick with Alice.”

As Nina offered a somber nod of understanding, Alice chimed in, “Rest assured, Mr. Duncan, I will safeguard Miss Nina.”

Duncan raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and concern evident, “Frankly, your combat abilities don’t exactly inspire confidence,” he said with a resigned sigh, “but you’re the only one I can entrust her to right now.”

Suddenly, another clap of thunder illuminated the room, followed closely by the ominous sound of a building crumbling in the distance. The chilling chime of city bells echoed, signaling the gravity of the unfolding situation.

Suddenly, the ambiance in the antiquated store shifted. The overhead lights hesitated, flickering sporadically before plunging the room into an inky darkness. It was as if the power grid for the entire vicinity had been deliberately sabotaged, making it feel as though an early, unnatural night had descended upon them.

From the encroaching blackness, Shirley’s anxious voice emerged, “I’ll find the oil lamp and get it lit! I remember exactly where we keep it!”

Sensing the moment’s urgency, Duncan tightened his grip on Nina’s hand. He felt an alarming warmth emanating from her, suggesting something was amiss.

“Uncle…” Nina’s voice, tinged with fear and urgency, wafted through the dark, “I feel… it’s getting uncomfortably warm…”

Though obscured by the darkness, Duncan’s expression was undoubtedly one of concern and anger, as if he were on the verge of unleashing fury. Yet, his extensive experience had taught him to remain composed, especially in potentially dire situations.

Holding Nina’s hand, which seemed to grow hotter by the second, he summoned a minute emerald flame that sprouted between their interlocked fingers, a beacon in the engulfing gloom.

Ai fluttered down from upstairs almost synchronously, her wings slicing the thick air. She had sensed the urgency through the shared mental bond and promptly positioned herself on the counter.

Shortly after, Shirley triumphantly returned, holding the now-lit oil lamp. Its flickering golden light drove away the room’s shadows, albeit momentarily. However, outside the shop, the situation remained eerily bleak — the surroundings swallowed by an oppressive, grim darkness, rendering visibility to a mere few feet.

Duncan’s voice, steady and reassuring, sliced through the unease, “Nina, remember our conversation from earlier?”

She replied, her voice a trembling whisper, “Yes, Uncle.”

“Good. Stay calm. What’s about to transpire will be extraordinary,” Duncan assured her gently.

As he spoke, it was evident his focus had shifted. Beyond the confines of the store, beyond the rain-swept streets, even beyond the apparent disturbances manifesting over the island, his gaze seemed fixated on something far more distant. It was as if he was staring intently at the approaching silhouette of the Vanished, looming ominously on the horizon.

……

The deafening clap of the most recent thunderclap caused Heidi to instinctively duck, pulling her neck in as if attempting to shield herself from the sound.

She was seated on an ornate bench in the cathedral’s grand hall. Without realizing it, her fingers had tightly clutched onto the crystal bracelet. With each heartbeat, she whispered prayers to Lahem, the revered deity of wisdom and enlightenment.

“Surely, the goddess won’t hold this against me?” She spoke the words, almost seeking affirmation, then resumed her soft recitation of Lahem’s name.

However, a peculiar sensation interrupted her devotion. It was a curious pounding in her chest, distinct from the rhythm of her heartbeat, making it challenging for her to maintain her focus.

Rising cautiously, Heidi scanned the cavernous expanse of the cathedral, trying to pinpoint the origin of her unease.

The scene was as one would expect in times of distress: guards standing firm at the cathedral’s entrance, a cluster of townsfolk seeking refuge within its hallowed walls after being delayed by their daily tasks, and clerics weaving through the crowd, offering words of solace and hope. In this sanctuary, the only oddity seemed to be the curious amulet she had received from her father, now warm to the touch. Surely, she thought, everything else is in order.

But then, her gaze landed on the cathedral’s magnificent stained glass window, which caused her blood to run cold.

“Fire… Fire!” Her voice trembled with panic, “The skies are raining fire!”

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