Chapter 348: Bishop Ivan’s Secret
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
Agatha carefully held the dispatch – an ordinary-looking piece of parchment within an envelope from a local paper mill, written with everyday ink. However, the letter’s journey from Cemetery No. 3 was anything but ordinary. Had she not trusted the old guard’s sincerity, Agatha might have doubted whether this missive was truly from a higher supernatural entity, defying human understanding.
She couldn’t sense any spiritual energy from the letter, but after several basic investigative procedures, she confirmed its otherworldly origin.
From the shadowy recesses of a hefty coffin, a faint crinkling of fabric was heard, and the lid began to creak open, releasing a distinct, haunting aroma. An entity swathed in bandages, resembling an ancient mummy, slowly rose from the coffin’s depths.
This spectral figure was Ivan, the Bishop of Frost. Decades earlier, a catastrophic event had disfigured his body, yet the potent magic of Bartok enabled his spirit to persist. He spent most of his time in the seclusion of the meditation hall’s “soul coffin,” appearing in public only for significant religious ceremonies. Despite his limited presence, he remained the most admired and trusted bishop in Frost’s history.
His profound understanding and significant contributions to the metaphysical field were unquestionable.
Ivan emerged from his coffin and took the “dispatch” from Agatha’s outstretched hand. His single visible eye, left uncovered by the bandages, scrutinized the parchment intently. He fell into a lengthy silence, causing an eerie quietness to permeate the room.
“You…” Agatha stammered, trying to break the oppressive silence.
“Grant me a moment,” the venerable and knowledgeable bishop requested, his voice muffled and distant.
Agatha’s impatience eventually got the better of her, and she asked again, “Are you feeling better now?”
“Are you certain of its origin?” Bishop Ivan asked, finally lifting his gaze from the letter to meet Agatha’s, a hint of bewilderment in his yellow-tinted eyes. “Did you…”
Agatha, aware of Ivan’s concern, responded promptly, “It seems extraordinarily mundane, yet when I tried to interpret the inscriptions on the parchment through my spiritual lens, I experienced a 15-minute memory lapse.” She nodded solemnly, continuing, “It’s enveloped in an overwhelming energy, beyond mere mortal comprehension. Its simplicity might just be an eccentricity of the entity that sent it.”
After processing Agatha’s words, Bishop Ivan fell silent again, seemingly gathering his strength. After a prolonged pause, he spoke in hushed tones, “The revelations in this letter are deeply troubling. You’ve already encountered the ‘Seagull,’ and if the claims in this dispatch are accurate, this is just the beginning. The uncontrollable events on Dagger Island signify just the commencement… Whether it’s the cultists embedded in our city, the contamination from the raw essence, the return of the ‘Seagull,’ or the irregularities on Dagger Island, every sign points towards the dark depths of the sea, hinting at the Abyss Project initiated half a century ago.”
“I’ve sent an alert to City Hall and requested access to the classified archives sealed for the past fifty years. Later today, I plan to examine the church’s historical records. Additionally, I’ve allocated more resources to intensify the citywide search and apprehend any cult members,” Agatha declared with determination. “However, this isn’t enough. We must ascertain the current situation on Dagger Island. The main source of contamination seems to be emanating from there.”
Bishop Ivan contemplated for a moment before sighing softly, “If all signs indeed lead back to the Abyss Project, then the recent emergence of the Mist Fleet near Frost seems less mysterious.”
Agatha furrowed her brow, “Could all these occurrences be part of the Frost Queen’s grand scheme from the past? Could a directive she left for that ‘Iron Admiral’ have caused the Mist Fleet to surface now?”
“I cannot say with certainty,” Bishop Ivan shook his head, then, with sudden intensity, turned to look at Agatha. “In your view, Agatha, who was the Frost Queen?”
Caught off-guard by the question, Agatha paused to gather her thoughts before responding, “A once great sovereign who, after a short-lived yet glorious reign, was tainted by the abyssal powers of the deep sea and turned into a perilous ‘mad queen.’ Her obstinacy led the former Frostbite Kingdom to form ties with the ocean’s monstrosities. Even after fifty years, her terrifying plan needed to be sealed away, hidden from the common folk. Her life was a blend of tragedy and danger.”
Bishop Ivan nodded at her analysis, “A conventional response. As a younger generation member privy to some classified information from that era, your summary is fairly accurate.” He then shifted the conversation, “However, you haven’t truly lived through it.”
Agatha remained silent, her gaze fixed on the bishop.
“I, on the other hand, have. I was twenty-six, serving as an ordinary bishop at a small chapel in the dock area. That quaint church was right next to the Abyss Project testing grounds. I even conducted blessing ceremonies for some soldiers and officers. Later, I learned these individuals sought blessings as they were designated to operate the ‘submersibles.’”
As Bishop Ivan recounted his past, his voice took on a nostalgic tone, resembling a stream flowing from the river of forgotten memories. With each word, he slowly unveiled long-concealed, untold tales hidden beneath his bandages.
“After the rebels infiltrated the palace, most information related to the Abyss Project was classified. The ensuing chaos from the cliff’s collapse at the execution site led to further destruction of valuable records. Thus, even you, a ‘gatekeeper’ with privileged access, only know the tip of the iceberg. What if I told you that on the eve of the city guard rebellion, the Frost Queen visited that small church and requested me to conduct a soul-sending ceremony for her… what would you think?”
Agatha’s eyes widened in astonishment.
“She was labeled the ‘Mad Queen,’ and indeed, her actions in her final months could only be described as ‘insanity.’ She stubbornly drove forward with the project despite it hurtling towards disaster, with individuals disappearing, dying, or succumbing to madness daily. She shut the palace doors, imprisoned the remaining ministers who dared offer counsel, commanded the gendarmes to seal the port, and detained anyone trying to escape Frostbite Kingdom… With such actions, a rebel revolt was inevitable, and her fate as a queen was bound to be tragic… However, despite all this, I cannot believe she ‘went mad’… On the contrary, she seemed incredibly lucid, and even…”
Bishop Ivan abruptly halted as if dredging up these ancient memories was overwhelming or perhaps struggling to find the right words to express the oddity he perceived years ago. After a moment, he resumed, “Even amid the chaos, it was as if she was the only one in the city truly awake.”
Intrigued, Agatha instinctively leaned closer, “Why do you say that?”
“She entered the church alone, her gaze lucid, as if she had already accepted her fate. She approached the statue of Bartok herself, lit the incense, and then gently patted my shoulder – much like this.”
Bishop Ivan raised his arm, seemingly recreating the encounter from half a century ago.
“She patted me and said, ‘Wake up, you’re the only one in this city truly awake with your eyes wide open. Assist me with something, I’m on the brink of death.’”
Agatha felt her breath hitch, and she instinctively touched her forehead, feeling her heart thud violently. Struggling to digest the revelation, she voiced her confusion after a few moments of stunned silence, “What did she mean by saying you were the only one with your eyes open?”
“I haven’t fully unraveled that mystery,” Bishop Ivan confessed with a sigh, his voice muffled by his bandages, “She told me to awaken, but I was already awake. After that, she offered no explanation and merely instructed me to follow her commands… She lay on the mortuary slab, as still as a corpse, and then… I performed the rites typically reserved for the deceased.”
“But how can a living person undergo a funeral rite?” Agatha gaped in disbelief, “Did you actually follow through with the ritual?”
“Certainly, a living person cannot participate in a funeral rite. I simply conducted the entire procedure as she commanded, and naturally, nothing happened when the ritual was completed,” Bishop Ivan shook his head, “I thought the ritual was meaningless, but it seemed the Frost Queen had achieved her goal. She left without further ado, leaving behind a final directive before exiting…”
“One final directive?”
“She told me to remain silent about that night, saying the rebels would surely take my life if they learned the truth. As she delivered this warning, exactly twenty-four hours remained until the first city guard launched their attack on the armory.”
Agatha fell silent, and after a long period of contemplation, she finally murmured, “You never shared any of this with me…”
“I never disclosed this to anyone,” Bishop Ivan said calmly, “At the time, I was just a humble bishop.”
“But later, you rose to the rank of city bishop, and no one could hold you accountable for your actions during that era. This secret…”
“I had resolved to carry this secret to my grave, so why reveal it now?” Bishop Ivan raised his gaze, his slightly clouded yellow left eye quietly meeting Agatha’s, “I understand the gravity of this revelation. Knowing that the queen anticipated the rebels’ actions in advance and faced her impending demise calmly could shock many… but aside from its shock factor, it serves no practical purpose. The Abyss Project would remain sealed, and maintaining the city’s stability is paramount to most citizens. The final thoughts or actions of a queen executed half a century ago hold little interest. But there’s a more critical reason…”
Bishop Ivan paused, then sighed softly.
“A more pivotal reason – the Abyss Project has ended, the queen’s reign has ended, everything has found resolution, or so I thought… for the past fifty years.”
In the end she sleep inside the doll and then will wake up one day as a vision. Under duncan hahahaha
She planned it all well, she can’t stop the abyss but she can slow it down and then hug the thigh of great duncsn hahahahah love it.
If she wakes up, what happens to alice
Perhaps the soul-sending ceremony was to ensure she wouldn’t have any “copies”? In the end, her “copy” turned out to be a doll that possesses almost nothing related to the frost queen besides appearance and origin. Alice doesn’t act like the Frost Queen at all, nor does she have any memories of her past or powers. Maybe the soul-sending ceremony was the reason? It disrupted whatever copying process was going on?
So the one sleeping is the Queen? Is that why she told Duncan to no pollute history because it might break her ability to wake up?
Guess Tyrian was sent away on the past so he could lock down the place with infamy in the present.