Chapter 365: The Child Who Shared Secrets
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com.
Agatha had long been aware that Bishop Ivan’s life was nearing its end. His body, wrapped tightly in bandages, was almost skeletal, with hardly any flesh remaining. What kept him upright wasn’t just Bartok’s divine miracle, but also his indomitable will and spirit.
Many were puzzled by the bishop’s peculiar condition. Even Agatha, known as the Gatekeeper of Frost, only had a vague understanding of the “accident” that had left him in this state years ago. Bishop Ivan never discussed the specifics of this incident, not even with Agatha.
It was a secret Agatha chose to leave unexplored.
Bishop Ivan’s face bore a deep melancholy. He stood in silence for a long moment before speaking, “We are on the brink of a crisis.”
“Yes, Bishop Ivan,” Agatha responded, nodding in understanding. “I will do everything in my power to uncover the truth and thwart the malevolent schemes of those who wish to bring destruction.”
“No, you don’t quite understand,” Bishop Ivan replied, shaking his head. “The ‘truth’ of this impending crisis is more complex and bewildering than we can imagine, Agatha. The sinister activities of the cult members might contribute to the crisis, but they are not the whole of it. I have a premonition…”
Agatha’s brow furrowed slightly. “A premonition?”
“A strange familiarity, reminiscent of fifty years ago… just before the upheaval. The entire city was filled with a mood similar to what we’re experiencing now,” Ivan said, his voice slow and contemplative. “A city-state that appeared perfectly normal on the surface, yet was filled with bizarre, inexplicable anomalies – almost as if we were trapped in an eerie, indistinguishable dream. Occasionally, we would catch glimpses of horrifying scenes at the edges of this dream, but our weak human understanding refused to fully grasp them, blinding us to the truth that was so close. Are you feeling that sensation? As if… the distortion is right before our eyes, yet we stubbornly keep them shut.”
“I’m not sure I understand…” Agatha said uncertainly. “Are you suggesting some kind of cognitive disruption? That this disruption is clouding our judgment?”
Instead of answering directly, Bishop Ivan paused for a few moments before shifting to a seemingly unrelated topic. “Agatha, have I ever spoken to you about the ‘Last Queen’s Guard’ from fifty years ago? Or the ‘Second Waterway’ deep within the city-state?”
“The Second Waterway?” Agatha echoed, taken aback as a flood of knowledge resurfaced in her mind. “I have some knowledge of it. It was part of a massive underground infrastructure developed by the Frost Queen for the city-state. However, when the Queen’s reign ended, the incomplete structure was abandoned. Due to severe structural damage and financial constraints, it has remained deserted to this day—most people aren’t even aware of its existence.”
“Yes, it remains abandoned, and only gatekeepers like you and old relics such as myself know of its existence,” Bishop Ivan said, shaking his head slightly.
“And what about the ‘Last Queen’s Guard’?” Agatha asked, her curiosity piqued. “Why did you suddenly mention them?”
“The Last Queen’s Guard was a unit that showed fierce resistance, continuing their fight even after the queen’s palace fell to the rebels. They used the city-state’s underground structures to stage their final stand,” Bishop Ivan’s voice was low, filled with a sense of nostalgia. “Their last stronghold was the entrance to the Second Waterway. After being overpowered, they destroyed all the connecting wells and were buried beneath the earth. The reason I bring this up today is because an old rumor from that time suddenly came to mind.”
Agatha’s eyes sharpened at the mention of a rumor. “A rumor?”
“The story goes that as the vertical wells were being destroyed, the invaders besieging the underground base suddenly heard a series of strange sounds from the depths. Even amidst the complete destruction of their underground stronghold, the Last Queen’s Guard began to shout as if launching an assault on an enemy,” Bishop Ivan recounted the distant memory slowly. “For some time after that, there were reports of people hearing the sounds of battle and war cries echoing from deep underground. Eventually, whispers began to circulate that the ‘Last Queen’s Guard’ had turned into a grotesque legion lurking beneath the ground. They were said to be engaged in endless battles, driven by a simmering rage, waiting for the new regime’s moment of weakness. At that moment, they were believed to rise from their underground realm to exact their revenge…”
Agatha’s expression grew serious. “The new regime’s moment of weakness… You mentioned earlier that we’re facing a crisis beyond our understanding, and the current mood in the city mirrors that of fifty years ago. Is this the moment of weakness? Will the mythical ‘Queen’s Guard’ emerge from the depths? Do you believe in this legend?”
“I don’t believe in this legend—the Queen’s Guard was completely annihilated. I witnessed their downfall. Even if…” Bishop Ivan began but abruptly stopped as if a new thought had struck him. He then shook his head. “Even if a few survivors managed to hold out temporarily in the Second Waterway, it’s unlikely they survived to this day. The few descendants still alive lack the strength to challenge the city-state’s rule, even if we are currently facing a crisis.”
Agatha remained silent for a moment before breaking the silence. “The legend of the ‘Last Queen’s Guard’ might be steeped in falsehood, but it’s undeniable that a vast, unregulated area exists beneath Frost. Your concern isn’t about the Queen’s Guard who disappeared fifty years ago, but rather something else lurking in the Second Waterway, isn’t it?”
“We’ve been diligently searching the entire city for a long time, managing to capture a number of Annihilation Cult followers. However, they are all minor figures, most with little skill in remaining hidden. It’s unlikely that these individuals are responsible for creating the many ‘counterfeits’ and ‘elemental pollution’ plaguing the city-state, let alone causing the disturbances on Dagger Island,” Bishop Ivan affirmed, nodding gravely. “Upon reflection, the minions we’ve captured seem more like scattered soldiers who have ‘slipped’ from a larger nest. Most of the city-state has been thoroughly searched, perhaps even multiple times, leaving only one area largely unexplored… I fear it might be the depths below.”
After considering the Bishop’s words, Agatha responded with a hint of uncertainty. “Yet, according to historical records, a significant portion of the Second Waterway has collapsed severely, turning most of its passages into treacherous traps. Add to this the presence of toxic pollution and vast stretches of darkness, survival down there seems impossible. The followers of the Annihilation Cult, despite their nefarious beliefs, are still living beings. Aside from a few priests who have nearly transformed into malevolent demons, most still need a human-friendly environment to survive… How could they possibly be hiding in such an inhospitable place?”
“Despite the grim prospects, we should at least attempt a search,” Bishop Ivan replied slowly. “We can start by exploring the collapsed sections around the metal mines.”
After thinking for a moment, Agatha nodded gently in agreement. “To do this, we’ll need the assistance of City Hall—protective gear, underground machinery, and professional engineers; such resources are beyond the cathedral’s capacity.”
“I’ll handle the negotiations,” Bishop Ivan reassured her with a nod. “Draft a list of the personnel and equipment you’ll need, and I’ll find a way to secure them for you.”
“Understood, I’ll have the list ready for you by noon,” Agatha said without hesitation. “And before the workforce and supplies arrive, I’d like to conduct a thorough ‘interrogation’ of the captured cultists to see if they can provide any valuable information…”
A New Day Begins
As the night loosened its grip, the sky gradually brightened. Vision 001 began its ascent from the city-state’s edge, and the majestic sun slowly climbed into the sky. The double-rune circle passed over the towering spires and rooftops, bringing warmth that dispelled the overnight chill.
At the entrance of Cemetery No. 3, the heavy, intricately carved iron gate creaked open. As the gate moved, it swept the snow on the ground, leaving behind twin arc-like trails as if wings had been spread. The old caretaker, clad in a worn-out coat, stood in front of the open cemetery gate, took a deep breath, and looked up at the clear sky.
The sky was clear, yet for some inexplicable reason, the morning’s brightness couldn’t alleviate the unease brewing within him. The elderly caretaker’s gaze drifted towards the busy city streets as the distant sounds of horses and carriages faded into the background, much like the uneasy winds from the previous night.
Even the cloudless sky seemed to have a veneer of artificiality.
Muttering a string of complaints under his breath, his gaze shifted to the incline leading up to the cemetery.
The lines etched deep into the old man’s face relaxed momentarily, only to deepen again as his brows furrowed in puzzlement.
He noticed a small figure appearing on the incline, trudging towards him with a mix of struggle and determination. Sensing the old man’s gaze, the tiny figure stopped and waved cheerfully.
The old caretaker’s frown deepened.
He waited patiently for the person to get closer, not speaking until Annie had brushed the snowflakes off her trousers and boots. His voice tinged with annoyance as he finally spoke. “You’re back again. Yesterday was peaceful without you, I thought you’d finally decided to stay home. Why are you back today?”
“I wanted to come yesterday too,” Annie replied, sticking her tongue out playfully. “But my mother thought the roads were too snowy, and we had to wait for the snowplows to clear the main roads before we could come out…”
Before the old man could respond, she had already handed him a small package. “I brought cookies!”
“It seems I’ve been eating cookies every day,” the old man glanced at the package in her hands, his eyelids twitching, but he accepted the offering. “Please thank Mrs. Belloni for me.”
Annie’s face lit up with joy.
“Is there something else?” The old caretaker’s gaze swept over the girl standing before him. “The cemetery isn’t accepting visitors today.”
“Oh, no. I just wanted to chat with you,” Annie replied cheerfully. “Did you know? We’ve had some new guests move into our house recently. Can you guess who they are?”
The twelve-year-old girl was notoriously bad at keeping secrets.
“I’m not interested,” the old caretaker grumbled, showing his disinterest with an impatient wave of his hand. “It’s your house, you can rent it to whomever you want. Why should that concern me?”
Ignoring his reaction, Annie continued with an even brighter smile and an inexplicable air of pride. “It’s the tall man wrapped in bandages! Remember the one we saw at the cemetery gate last time… Are you alright, Grandpa Caretaker?”
The caretaker’s eyes widened in surprise.
Lmao ?
It was at this moment Caretaker Grandpa almost tripped himself on nothing.
Grandpa just had a heart attack.
ditto
Old man’s life flashed before his eyes hahahahah
Man, don’t you hate it when your granddaughter innocently revealed that an eldritch phenomenon is happening in their house, and that no one is safe from this maddenning descent into the abyss?
Ah kids and their horror friends 😀