Chapter 258

Chapter 258: No Number

Not only Vanna faintly felt that something was wrong. The nearby Saints also sensed that something was off. These hazy spirit projections looked almost instinctively at the ancient being wrapped in the shroud, its face twisted and terrifying.

In their memories, and in the Church’s records, every description of this “Gravekeeper” used words like “cold,” “dutiful,” and “indifferent.” There was never a single line saying that he would ever say “please” to a chosen Listener.

However, Vanna did not have time to think about it. She noticed that the Gravekeeper was still patiently waiting for her, so she quickly gathered her thoughts and nodded: “All right.”

The Gravekeeper turned and led Vanna toward the grand, ancient mausoleum palace, leaving the Saints on the plaza watching the two figures grow distant.

The heavy gate of the mausoleum closed behind them, as if it cut off all the sounds of the world. Standing in the cold and silent corridor, Vanna’s heart slowly calmed down as well.

This was already her second time entering this mausoleum. Compared with the slightly nervous and uneasy mood of her first visit, she had now gotten at least a little used to it.

She knew what she had to do next. She had to walk straight ahead, pass through the passage lined with messages left by the seniors, enter the deepest burial chamber, and see the body of the Nameless King. After that, she would forget everything she had seen and heard and be sent back out of the mausoleum—while the parchment sheet in her hand would keep the notes she had written herself.

The secrets that could not be taken out of the mausoleum would be torn away. The things that could be revealed to the world would remain. The corruption she suffered during the process of the Listening rite would be safely left behind in the burial chamber together with her “forgetting.”

Vanna steadied herself and stepped forward.

A slightly heavy footstep followed behind her.

The young Inquisitor stopped in surprise and looked back at the Gravekeeper walking after her.

Under normal circumstances, did the Gravekeeper not always leave on his own once the Listener entered the mausoleum?

“Is there… something else?” Vanna could not help speaking. She chose her words carefully and stayed fully on guard.

The Gravekeeper lowered his gaze. The single eye outside the shroud was cloudy. A hoarse voice sounded from his chest: “No. I am only escorting you—do you need an escort?”

That strong sense of wrongness rose again.

Vanna had only entered the mausoleum once before and was not familiar with every detail related to Vision 004, but she instinctively felt that the Gravekeeper’s behavior was not quite right. It was very different from what the records described.

But Vanna did not lose her calm. She reminded herself again and again that she was inside a very highly ranked ancient Vision. Here, even the smallest detail could be a matter of life and death. Because of this, she was extremely cautious and did not dare accept this “extra service” from the Gravekeeper: “I think… I know where to go.”

The Gravekeeper simply fixed his gaze on the “Visitor” in front of him. No emotion showed in his single eye. After a few seconds, he nodded and slowly stepped back: “All right. Please walk straight ahead. When it is over, I will personally escort you out.”

The Gravekeeper’s figure vanished into the corridor.

Vanna stared blankly for a moment and suddenly realized that he had even said “please” and “personally escort you out.”

…Why was this cold, proud ancient Guard so polite today…?

She shook her head and tried hard to push all the messy thoughts out of her mind, afraid that this was some kind of mental disturbance from the ancient Vision. Vanna forced herself to focus on what she should do. At last, she passed through the long corridor and entered the deepest burial chamber of the palace.

Inside the burial chamber, the mysterious headless corpse still sat upright on the tall throne. Pale braziers blazed on both sides. Across from the body of the Nameless King, there was a chair that had clearly been moved there recently.

Vanna’s eyelid twitched.

At that moment, even the always strict and self-disciplined Inquisitor had a rather absurd thought—if she came here again next time, would there be a fruit plate too…

She walked to the chair, sat down carefully, then raised her head and looked at the headless corpse on the throne.

In the next second, Vanna opened her eyes and found herself standing on a vast stone plaza. A chaotic sky covered her vision. In the distance, mysterious light rose from the tops of broken pillars. A rumbling sound came from behind her—Vision 004 was sinking quickly and returning to the underground.

Vanna was still a little dazed, while the Saints waiting on the plaza had already rushed over and gathered around her.

One Saint’s phantom carried the familiar presence of Valentine. He came up to Vanna and spoke quickly: “Hurry and see what is written on the parchment sheet.”

Only then did Vanna react. She quickly lifted the parchment sheet in her hand.

As expected, this parchment sheet was still incomplete, but compared with last time, when only a little scrap had remained, things were already much better.

The parchment sheet had only been torn in half. Clear writing remained on the other half.

Vanna’s gaze swept over the familiar handwriting—

“The Shadows in the dark sea trench have begun to rise.

“The day to set sail.

“Vision Pland.”

The Saints looked at each other. Bishop Valentine’s phantom raised his head and stared at Vanna in shock. He seemed to want to ask something by instinct, but did not know how to put it into words.

The content on the parchment sheet had a problem. A big problem.

Yet the Listener would not remember her experience in the central burial chamber. The words carried out on the slip of paper were all the information there was. Vision 004 would not answer any extra questions. The only guarantee was that the information on the paper was true and correct.

“The Shadows in the dark sea trench… the day to set sail…” A Saint could not help whispering and looked at his companions in confusion. “The messages that came out of the mausoleum in the past were all fairly clear and direct. It was rare to see such an obscure metaphor…”

“Maybe this is the clear and direct message, and the key part was just torn away,” another Saint muttered. “Compared to that, the last line is…”

“Vision, Pland,” someone said softly.

Vanna’s eyes also locked onto the last line on the slip. Of the three lines, only this one fully caught her attention.

Naturally, she thought of that great fire, that ghost ship, and the Ghost flames that had finally swept across the whole city-state. But right after that, Vanna noticed something else.

“No number…” she said softly in surprise. Then she looked up at Valentine and repeated, “No number?!”

At that moment, she did not even know which point she should be more shocked by first.

Was it that Pland had been defined as a “Vision,” or that this Vision actually had no number at all?

The Saints grew restless. Although they were all high-level Clerics from different regions of the Church, and although they all had firm wills and great power, they still could not help falling into confusion at this moment. Low, uneasy discussions sounded all around. Some Saints who knew them better came over to Vanna and Valentine to ask about Pland’s current situation.

This left Vanna a little at a loss—compared with the skilled and steady Bishop Valentine, she was still too young.

Fortunately, the commotion only lasted a short while. The Saints gathered on the plaza suddenly fell silent. Vanna looked up and saw the hazy shadows moving aside of one accord. An elegant lady in a splendid priest’s robe was walking toward her and Bishop Valentine.

Vanna and Valentine bowed at once: “Your Eminence, Pope.”

“No need for so much ceremony.”

Helena, the Pope, ruler of the Deep Sea Church and the Storm Goddess’s voice in the mortal world, let her gaze fall on Vanna and then on the parchment sheet. “May I have a look?”

“Of course,” Vanna said at once. She hurried to hand over the parchment sheet. “Here.”

Helena took the parchment sheet and let her eyes sweep over the words. Then she raised her head and looked at Vanna with a faint smile. “Your handwriting is very nice—much better than in your reports.”

Vanna froze for a moment. She had not expected the Pope to suddenly bring this up, and then she felt a little embarrassed: “That report… I wrote it in a bit of a hurry. The city-state was rather chaotic at the time…”

“Understandable. The first time I had to write such a long report, I almost wanted to swallow my pen,” Helena said with a smile. “That is why the typewriter is a good invention. Why not use it?”

Vanna’s tone sounded a bit strange: “…I always break them by accident, and I am not used to them either.”

Helena’s smile grew broader. Then she handed the parchment sheet back to Vanna and said casually: “I have already read all the reports you submitted about Pland’s historic corruption incident—including the part about the Vanished. To be honest, after such a huge upheaval, it is not surprising that the city-state of Pland has become something like a ‘Vision.’

“Although the birth of this Vision was unusual, being ‘unusual’ is exactly the nature of Anomalies and Visions.”

As Helena spoke, she paused slightly. Her expression slowly grew serious.

“It is just that… having no number is a bit too ‘unusual.’”