Chapter 346: Blockade

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com

A young girl, not much older than eleven or twelve, stood at the door. She was petite, wrapped in a cozy white coat, and a woolen hat sat atop her head, with a faint wisp of steam rising from it, hinting at her brisk journey. Her heavy breaths were still noticeable as she saw Morris, her panting face quickly lighting up with a bright smile.

“Are you Grandpa Morris?” she asked. “My mom asked me to bring this to you.” She extended her small hand, presenting a key. “This is the basement key. Mom said she accidentally forgot to give it when she left.”

“Thank you, young lady,” Morris responded gratefully, accepting the key with a nod. “Would you like to come inside and warm up?”

Before the girl could reply, a familiar voice sounded from behind Morris, tinged with surprise, “Annie?”

Looking over the old scholar’s shoulder, Duncan saw the little girl standing at the doorstep, his face reflecting astonishment.

The girl was Annie Babelli, the daughter of Captain Christo Babelli of the Obsidian. Duncan had met her before at the cemetery gate.

Realization dawned on Duncan. Whether it was mere coincidence or a testament to the ‘compactness’ of their city-state, he had once again crossed paths with the Obsidian captain’s daughter. The house that Morris and Vanna had hastily acquired within a day happened to be Annie’s home.

Upon recognizing the tall figure suddenly appearing before her, Annie’s eyes widened in shock.

The unexpected turn of events left the young girl somewhat disoriented. It took a few seconds for her to overcome her initial hesitation and awkwardly acknowledge his presence, “Ah, it’s the uncle from the cemetery gate… hello?”

Her final greeting was laced with hesitation as her mind recalled the events at the cemetery gate. The memory of flames rising skyward as Duncan left was particularly vivid. Though she hadn’t given it much thought then, the episode had undeniably left a lasting impression on her young mind.

Despite her age, Annie was aware that these events were supernatural in nature. This knowledge was deeply embedded in the curricula of all city-states and disseminated among all citizens. Basic understanding and protective techniques against supernatural forces were fundamental survival skills in their world.

However, the exact nature of the power remained a mystery to Annie. It wasn’t covered in her textbooks, the cemetery caretaker hadn’t explained it, and her mother hadn’t provided details when she shared the story upon her return home.

The situation seemed shrouded in a mystery, typically beyond the comprehension of children.

Annie found herself transfixed by Duncan, standing opposite her, her mind slightly muddled. The caretaker’s earlier caution echoed in her ears, prompting a sense of unease. The towering figure suddenly stepped aside, his voice carrying a peculiar mix of firmness and gentleness, “Please come in and take a break. It seems the snow has started again.”

Only then did Annie turn to see the renewed flurry of snowflakes descending from the sky. A few adventurous flakes landed on her neck, carried by the chilly breeze, making her shiver.

Under the spell of the moment, she meekly stepped inside, her gaze darting around the unfamiliar surroundings.

A strikingly beautiful blonde woman, exuding an air of nobility, stood in the living room next to the dining table, casting curious glances in her direction.

She had removed her veil to reveal an enchanting face — arguably the most beautiful face Annie had ever seen.

“My mom asked me not to trouble the tenants unnecessarily,” Annie said tentatively, carefully wiping the slush and grime off her small boots onto the doormat. “She told me that Grandpa Morris is a distinguished scholar, and it would be impolite to bother him unnecessarily…”

“You’re not causing any trouble. We were just getting to know our new surroundings,” Morris interjected, having pieced together the situation. “Besides, with the snow outside, it wouldn’t be safe for you to return via the narrow path. Why don’t you rest here? Vanna will accompany you home later.”

Annie craned her neck to glance up at the tall figure of Vanna and nodded almost reflexively.

She then turned her attention to Duncan, and after a moment’s hesitation, she finally voiced her question, “So… do you also need a house to live in?”

“Yes, I also live in a house,” Duncan replied with a chuckle, leading Annie to the plush comfort of the living room sofa. In a conversational tone, he continued, “Aren’t you worried about wandering around alone like this? Doesn’t your mother worry?”

From Duncan’s perspective, Annie was taking undue risks — her solo excursion to the cemetery early in the morning and her navigation through adverse weather conditions to deliver keys to unfamiliar new tenants seemed incredibly audacious and concerning.

“No worries. Everyone around here knows me. My mom always says that half the people living on these two streets are friends of my dad,” Annie responded nonchalantly. Sitting on the sofa, she swayed back and forth, her hands supporting her thighs. “Also, mom is often busy. She does accounting and paperwork for others, and sometimes she helps at the local chapel. I’m used to my independent adventures.”

After thinking for a moment, Duncan asked, “So… did you tell your mom what I told you when you got home?”

“I did tell her,” Annie confirmed with a nod, her expression turning peculiar. “At first, she thought it was just childish rambling. But when I recited the words of the cemetery caretaker, she locked herself in her room… When she came out, it looked like she had been crying… But she managed to smile and told me we were having fried fish and sausage stew for dinner because it was a day worth celebrating.”

Annie stopped her rhythmic swaying, her face clouded with confusion. Looking up at Duncan, she voiced her puzzlement with an air of curiosity and uncertainty, “I don’t… quite understand.”

“That’s alright, you will understand in time,” Duncan reassured her with a smile. “Some things may be too complex for you to grasp right now.”

“Uncle, you sound a lot like the caretaker. He says things like that too,” Annie commented, shaking her head in thoughtful contemplation before looking up again. “Uncle, do you… prefer not to be disturbed?”

Duncan, intrigued, asked, “What makes you say that?”

“Based on the way you dress and the way you disappeared after leaving… My mom said that the elusive members of the cathedral or reclusive people in societies… behave like that. I think ‘behave’ is the word she used.”

Duncan found himself at a loss for words in response to Annie’s observations, but she didn’t wait for an answer. After thinking it over briefly, Annie suddenly announced, “I won’t tell anyone. The caretaker told me the same thing. He told me to pretend I’ve never seen you and not to talk about it with anyone, except my mom.”

Duncan couldn’t help but smile. Before he could say anything, Annie quickly added, “Can I tell Grandpa Caretaker, though? Let him know… that you’re living in our house?”

Hearing Annie’s words, Morris and Vanna, who had moved closer to the sofa to join the lively conversation, exchanged knowing looks. At the same time, Alice turned to look at Duncan.

They all sensed a certain strangeness surrounding the situation.

However, Duncan only hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement, giving her a warm smile, “It’s alright, I have no objections.”

Meanwhile, near the eastern port, the task of collecting samples from the wreckage of the “Seagull” had begun.

A fleet of light speedboats launched from the dock, cautiously navigating towards the area where remnants of the polluted “mud” and lingering flames were on the water’s surface. Each speedboat was equipped with a priest, holy artifacts, and nitroglycerin explosives for emergencies.

Along the shoreline, the port’s garrison had mobilized in preparation for the salvage operation.

An empty warehouse was chosen as a temporary storage facility. Priests and guardians, who had promptly arrived from the Silent Cathedral, had completed the sanctification and preventive measures across the entire area. Additionally, Gatekeeper Agatha had left behind a team of elite followers to handle any unforeseen incidents during the wreckage sample collection process.

Standing at the edge of the dock, Lister kept a watchful eye on the salvage operation unfolding on the water, while his reliable aides monitored the progress of the recovery work.

“Is it really safe to bring those entities ashore?” asked one of the followers with a hint of anxiety in his voice. “Of course, I’m not questioning Gatekeeper Agatha’s judgment, but those things… Just a few hours ago, they were hurtling towards Frost at a terrifying speed. Are they really dead now?”

“Miss Agatha has repeatedly confirmed through spiritual consultations that these entities no longer show any signs of activity,” Lister explained calmly. “They can indeed be ‘neutralized.’ Judging from Agatha’s approach and action plan, I believe the main church might have even faced similar situations in the past.”

“Similar situations? They’ve already infiltrated the city-states?” a junior officer asked, surprised. “I haven’t heard anything about that…”

“If you haven’t heard, it means the information isn’t deemed fit for public disclosure, at least for now. The Church and City Hall have their own considerations,” Lister replied with a shake of his head. “In any case, Agatha is reliable. She wouldn’t jeopardize the city’s safety. Our job is to trust the expert’s judgment. Priests are much better at handling these strange events than soldiers.”

The follower fell silent, but at that moment, the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted the calm. A soldier was seen running towards the dock.

“Commander!” The soldier, panting, approached Lister, saluted, and handed over a document that had been expedited via a high-pressure air pipeline. “Orders from City Hall.”

“It seems the formal order to impose a blockade on Dagger Island has arrived,” Lister said, accepting the document. However, as he read through its contents, his expression changed dramatically.

One of the followers noticed and asked, “Commander? What’s the matter?”

“It’s an order to impose a blockade on the shipping lanes, but it’s not limited to Dagger Island,” Lister reported, his voice heavy with seriousness. “In fact, it’s not just Dagger Island – the order calls for the blockade of all shipping lanes leading into and out of Frost and requires all garrisons to enter a state of high alert.”

“A blockade… covering the entire Frost waters?!”

“The Mist Fleet has appeared in the nearby waters,” Lister stated with a weary sigh, his face a shade darker than the gloomy sky overhead. “The entire Mist Fleet.”

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