Chapter 410: The Fog is Confusing
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
In the secret chamber, the steady rhythm of a switch being repeatedly activated echoed persistently. The metallic springs hummed in harmony as they connected and disconnected, creating an industrial symphony. An antenna, cleverly disguised as a weather vane, transmitted coded messages into the vast skies. These messages from the Mist Fleet returned to this chamber, translating into the rhythmic clatter of relays and punctures on a strip of paper tape.
Nemo, the room’s sole occupant, sat at a table. Wearing headphones that made him look like a vintage DJ, he tapped an impatient beat on the tabletop as he strained to decipher the sounds. Next to him stood a young woman, dressed as a waitress, her focused gaze on the freshly punched paper tape indicating her role was far more significant.
As the mechanical sounds waned, Nemo removed his headphones. He leaned back, massaging the bridge of his nose with a sigh.
“Captain Tyrian has already engaged the ominous fleet that emerged from the fog. The situation with the Frost Navy is unclear, but it doesn’t look optimistic,” the waitress-turned-intelligence-operative whispered, holding the paper tape. “The city has been oddly silent, with no communication whatsoever.”
“The dense fog has severed all civilian news channels. Even if people along the coast hear distant cannon fire, they won’t know what’s happening. City officials are busy maintaining order. The last thing they need is panic,” Nemo said, pressing his fingers to his forehead to soothe a headache. “What about outside? How’s the situation in the store?”
“The sheriff station has imposed martial law. The streets are eerily quiet, though there were distant gunshots earlier. Two steam-powered walkers sped past Oak Street, heading north,” she reported. “The store is okay for now. We have enough fuel to keep the lights on, but…”
She hesitated, prompting Nemo to ask, “But?”
“We have over a dozen guests trapped here because of the fog. The streets are blocked, and emergency shelters are full. They have nowhere to go. If this continues, fear and panic will spread among them.”
“We can’t throw them out. The pub is their refuge. Forcing them out would attract unwanted attention from the sheriff and the church,” Nemo responded, shaking his head. “I’ll go up to the roof and assess the situation myself soon.”
Before they could continue, a muffled voice from a corner of the room added to their worry, “Charge again, charge again… They’ve breached… Reinforcements have arrived…”
Nemo’s brow crinkled as he turned toward the disturbance. He rose swiftly, driven by urgency.
In the corner, a disheveled elderly man lay on a modest bed, looking bewildered. His stooped posture and tight grip on a large wrench made him appear unsettled.
“Old gramps, old gramps,” Nemo addressed him soothingly, approaching the bed. He gently placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Did you have a bad dream?”
The old man slowly opened his eyes and, after a few moments of disorientation, found his voice, “Who are you?”
“I’m Nemo,” Nemo Wilkins responded, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. “What were you dreaming about?”
“Nemo… ah, Nemo, I remember now, you’re the fresh recruit from the Queen’s Guard… greetings, I’m the pipe engineer of the Second Waterway… Dream? No, no, I wasn’t dreaming. I simply drifted off… what time is it? Is it time for my shift to inspect the power pipes?”
“It’s already the afternoon,” Nemo dismissed his concern with a shake of his head. “Don’t worry about the power pipes for now. We’ve had to pull back. No place is safe. We have to stay at the base and wait for further instructions. Admiral Tyrian ordered it.”
“Admiral Tyrian…” The elderly man looked puzzled before snapping back to his senses. He quickly rose, his voice firm and determined, “Yes! Engineer Wilson acknowledges the order! Will stay at the base!”
Nemo’s face showed a mix of emotions, but he straightened and returned the old man’s salute with respect. He turned to the young woman in the waitress uniform, “Stay with him, keep an eye on him. I’m going to the roof to get a better understanding of our situation.”
With his instructions given, Nemo left the secret chamber, making his way to the surface pub through a concealed underground tunnel.
The atmosphere in the “Golden Flute” pub was tense. The guests stranded due to the fog, the clerks busy with their duties, and the waitstaff all watched the exterior through the large display window, where the only visible sight was the thick fog and faint outlines of streets swallowed by it.
The city’s gas lamps had been lit much earlier than usual, but their artificial glow barely pierced the fog, falling short of restoring any semblance of normality. The dim orbs of light bobbed in the dense fog like loose duckweed, appearing as floating eyes above the silent streets.
Emerging from the kitchen entrance, Nemo positioned himself by the pub’s counter, his eyes scanning the room.
“What’s the current situation?” he asked the clerk behind the counter in a whisper.
“Everyone’s anxious. We’ve lost communication and transport links with neighboring districts, leaving us in the dark about what’s happening,” the young clerk whispered. “But despite the tension, no one has tried to escape. Nobody wants to take their chances in the fog.”
Nemo nodded, “If anyone decides to be reckless, let them go. Make it clear that once they step outside, they can’t come back in. We can’t risk allowing anything tainted by the fog to reenter.”
The young clerk swallowed nervously, nodding earnestly, “Yes, manager.”
Their quiet conversation was interrupted by an unfamiliar droning sound from the street, reminiscent of a large machine springing to life, intermingled with the clatter of heavy gears on the cobbled street.
The sudden sound rattled the pub’s patrons. Some edged closer to the window, anxiously surveying the fog-enveloped street. As red lights flickered in the distance, hushed exclamations rippled through the crowd, “Steam walkers… More walkers are on the move!”
Nemo, too, was drawn towards the window, but the humming sound outside suddenly intensified. A distorted voice, amplified by a loudspeaker, began to reverberate through the room—it was an announcement from a device mounted on one of the steam walkers.
“Attention, citizens. Governor Winston, in partnership with our esteemed church leaders, is doing everything to restore peace and order in our city-state. We are dealing with an unexplained phenomenon. Please stay indoors or seek refuge in safe shelters. For your safety, avoid reflective surfaces like mirrors, bodies of water, and polished metals.
“If you encounter someone exhibiting strange behavior, retreat to a safe spot and alert an official, protector, or law enforcement. Do not confront suspicious individuals. Your safety and isolation are the priority.
“If you feel unwell, isolate yourself and limit contact with others.
“These guidelines are issued by Governor Winston and our specialist advisor on supernatural phenomena. Stay alert…”
As the broadcast ended, the red light on the steam walker dimmed, disappearing into the dense fog.
Nemo lifted his gaze, met by a sea of apprehensive faces waiting for his command.
“Fetch the coverings!” he instructed his staff, his voice calm but authoritative. “Cover every glass surface and mirror!”
The inhabitants of the city-state swiftly responded, demonstrating their understanding of emergency procedures and emotional strength necessary for self-preservation. The shop staff gathered protective dust covers, usually draped over merchandise after closing hours. Customers eagerly helped, methodically covering reflective surfaces.
Similar chaos was unfolding throughout Frost as the terror induced by the fog engulfed the city-state.
Meanwhile, within the fog, a figure made her way back to the cathedral. Agatha returned to find Bishop Ivan resting after his religious duties.
Bishop Ivan, not in his regular “spirit coffin” attire but in grand bishop’s vestments covering his mummified body, greeted Agatha with open arms.
“Even this hollow shell had to rouse and labor,” Ivan stated, sinking into an armchair. “I’ve been immobile for so long. I feel like I’m crumbling to dust.”
“If you still have a physical form that can ‘crumble’,” Agatha replied dryly. “What’s the latest situation?”
“Everyone wants to know—it’s grave,” came Bishop Ivan’s gravelly voice. “Imposters have breached our city walls, and creatures from the shadows are revealing themselves. Several graveyards have been violated, with the enemy using locations storing the dead as ‘portals’ into our realm. Gunfire was heard across several lower city streets. At sea, our fleet is battling monsters emerging from the depths.
“The enemy has launched a full-scale offensive, but our inadequate understanding of this catastrophe, or rather, this conspiracy, is troubling. How did the heretics orchestrate this, and where are they hiding?”
Bishop Ivan slowly raised his head to meet Agatha’s eyes.
“What have you unearthed? Your look suggests you’ve found something significant.”
“I didn’t find the heretics’ lair, but I uncovered something even more alarming.”
Taking a slow breath, Agatha whispered, “Our metal mines were depleted decades ago, perhaps even earlier than we thought.”
So the city hall 100% helped the heretics, undoubtly to mine the mirror world and extend the lifeline industry of the city…
It was always doubtful that we never heard anything from them till now.
What’s crazy is it actually saved the city, staying till Duncan arrived. What irony ?
Bro… Metal ore from other frosts… And it’s not just frost that uses this, the metal ore that is exported also uses this metal ore ?… D*mn.
That ore doesn’t meet the spiritual safety standards of that world. They have dabbed in dubious business for decades and it is going to bite their arses hard now, I guess. I wonder why there weren’t any complaints from their clients about the metal imported from Frost being quirky and unreliable.
*dabbled
Maybe Willow is some agent of the Queens Guard present in both Worlds at the same time.
Maybe he is a sort of link to help keep the information between the Mirror World’s and the Real World’s Queens Guard flowing.
But due to some reason, maybe his age, maybe contamination, he has forgotten that or so.
Thus his strange and confused seeming state of mind.