Chapter 348

Chapter 348: Bishop Ivan’s Secret

Agatha took out the denunciation letter. At a glance it looked like it was written on the most common kind of stationery, slipped into an envelope made by some small local factory in Frostholm, even the ink looked plain and cheap. It had been sent to her from Cemetery No. 3. To be honest, if she did not know that the Old Caretaker would never play this kind of joke on her, Agatha would never have believed that this thing had come from an indescribable higher supernatural being.

She could not sense any supernatural power from the letter at all. But after running a few simple tests, she had already confirmed that it really did come from that higher supernatural.

From inside the dark coffin came the faint rustle of cloth. The heavy lid finally opened, slowly. A strange incense smell drifted out as a body wrapped in bandages, like a mummy, slowly sat up from within.

This was Bishop Ivan of the city?state of Frostholm. Many years ago he had lost most of his body in an accident, but Bartok’s great power had kept his life going to this day. Most of the time he had to stay inside the “spirit coffin” in the Hall of Meditation, and he only appeared in public during major rites. Even so, he was still the most popular and trusted bishop in Frostholm’s history.

His achievements and vast knowledge in the field of the supernatural were beyond doubt.

He sat up in the coffin and took the denunciation letter from Agatha. The only left eye showing outside the bandages stared at the letter for a long time. He stayed silent for a long while.

Agatha finally broke the silence: “Bishop…”

The well?traveled, well?read archbishop spoke in a muffled voice: “Give me a moment.”

Agatha waited a bit, then asked: “Have you calmed down yet?”

“…You are sure this is the one?” Bishop Ivan raised his head. Confusion flickered in that slightly yellowed eye. “Did you…”

“It really looks very ordinary. But when I tried to look at the words on it through the Spirit Realm, I lost fifteen minutes of memory on the spot,” Agatha said. She knew what the bishop wanted to ask and nodded with a serious face. “It is wrapped in power that Mortals can hardly imagine. This simple appearance… might just be that Visitor’s personal taste.”

Bishop Ivan stayed quiet for a moment, as if he still needed time to recover, then slowly spoke: “What this letter talks about… is disturbing. You have already seen that ship, the Sea Swallow. If what the letter says is true, then the Sea Swallow is only the beginning. Even the runaway state of Dagger Island is only the beginning. Whether it is the cultists in the city or the corruption caused by elements, whether it is the Sea Swallow’s return or the Anomaly on Dagger Island, everything points to the Deep Sea, to the Abyssal Trench Project from half a century ago.”

“I have already sent a warning to City Hall and applied to review those secret files that have been sealed for half a century. After that I will go to the Cathedral library. I have also assigned people to strengthen the search across the whole city and arrest those hiding cultists,” Agatha said. “But that is still not enough. We at least have to confirm what is happening on Dagger Island right now. The greater source of corruption seems to be on that island.”

Bishop Ivan thought for a moment and let out a light sigh: “If everything points to the Abyssal Trench Project… then the Sea Mist Fleet now appearing near Frostholm also seems easier to explain.”

“…You think all of this is part of the Queen of Frostholm’s plan from back then?” Agatha frowned. “Is the Sea Mist Fleet here today because of some order she left to that ‘Steel Vice Admiral’?”

“I am not sure,” Bishop Ivan shook his head. Then he suddenly looked up and met Agatha’s eyes. “Agatha, in your understanding, what kind of figure is the Queen of Frostholm?”

Agatha hesitated, thinking as she spoke: “She was once a great ruler. But after a brief period of brilliant rule, she was tainted and lured by the power in the Deep Sea, and fell into a dangerous ‘Mad King’. Because of her stubborn will, Frostholm formed a link to the horrors in the Deep Sea. Her terrible plan still has to be sealed away even after half a century, forbidden to be known by any ordinary person. Her life was both tragic and dangerous.”

“A very standard answer. As someone of the younger generation who also has enough clearance to read some of the files from fifty years ago, your summary is quite good,” Bishop Ivan said with a nod. Then his tone shifted. “But you did not really live through any of it.”

Agatha said nothing. She just quietly watched the archbishop in front of her.

“I lived through it. That year, I was twenty?six, just an ordinary bishop at a small Cathedral in the dock district. You know that? That little Cathedral stood right beside the test site of the Abyssal Trench Project. I even held blessing rituals for some soldiers and officers. Later I found out that those soldiers and officers came to the Cathedral for divine blessing because they were going to come into contact with the ‘Submersible’.”

Ivan spoke slowly, his voice low. From under the crossing bandages, he let out, bit by bit, those old things that could not be told to ordinary people.

“After the rebels broke into the palace, most of the data about the Abyssal Trench Project was sealed. Then came the sea?cliff collapse at the decapitation site, which caused panic and led to even more files being destroyed. So even for a ‘Gatekeeper’ like you, with clearance, what you can access is only the shallowest part. If I tell you now that, on the night before the city Guard Corps rose in revolt, the Queen of Frostholm came to that little Cathedral and asked me to perform a soul?sending ritual for her… what would you think?”

Agatha’s eyes widened at once.

“She was called the ‘Mad King’—and yes, in the last few months her behavior was no different from madness. Even when the whole plan had fully entered a runaway state, when people were going missing, dying, or going insane every single day, she still kept pushing the project forward. She even sealed the palace chambers, locked up the last ministers who dared to advise her, ordered the gendarmes to close the Harbor, and had anyone trying to flee Frostholm arrested… After all that, the uprising that followed was only natural. There was no way she could end well on the throne as queen…”

“Yet even so, I still believe she was never truly ‘mad’… She was very clear?headed, even…”

Ivan suddenly stopped. Maybe those old memories weighed too heavily on his mind, or maybe he was searching for the right words to describe the strange feeling he’d had back then. After a few seconds, he finally went on: “It even felt like she was the only one in the whole city who was still awake.”

Without noticing, Agatha had leaned forward: “Why do you say that?”

“She walked into the Cathedral without any attendants. Her eyes were clear, as if she already knew her fate. She went by herself to Bartok’s statue and lit incense for herself. Then she came over and patted me on the shoulder—like this.”

Bishop Ivan raised his arm, as if re?creating that moment from half a century ago.

“She patted me and said: ‘Wake up. You’re the only one in this whole city still keeping your eyes open—come help me with something. I’m about to die.’”

Agatha suddenly felt her breath catch, like the pause in breathing between sleep and waking. In the next moment she could not help lifting a hand to her forehead. Her heart was pounding. She did not know how she was supposed to react. After a few seconds of silence, she could only ask the most direct question in her mind: “You’re the only one still keeping your eyes open in the whole city… what did she mean by that?”

“I still have not fully figured it out,” Bishop Ivan sighed, his voice muffled under the bandages. “She told me to wake up—but I was already awake. And after that, she did not explain anything. She only ordered me to follow instructions. She lay down on the mortuary slab, just like the dead, and then… I performed the soul?sending ritual for her.”

“How can you hold a soul?sending ritual for someone still alive?” Agatha stared at him in disbelief. “Did that ritual… really work?”

“Of course the living cannot undergo a soul?sending ritual. I only followed her orders and carried out the whole procedure. Naturally, nothing happened after the ritual ended,” Bishop Ivan shook his head. “I thought the ritual had no meaning. But the Queen of Frostholm seemed to have already reached her own goal. She left just like that. Before leaving, she told me one thing…”

“One thing?”

“She told me not to speak of what happened that night, or the rebels would surely take my life. When she said that, there were still a full twenty?four hours before the first units of the city Guard Corps attacked the armory.”

Agatha fell silent. After an unknown time, she finally spoke in a low voice: “You never told me any of this before…”

“I have never told anyone,” Bishop Ivan said softly. “At that time I was just a small bishop.”

“But later you became the city?state’s bishop. No one can put you on trial for ‘complicity’ from back then anymore. This secret…”

“I planned to take this secret to my grave. Why would I tell it?” Bishop Ivan raised his head. His cloudy yellow left eye rested on Agatha with a quiet gaze. “I know this matter is no small thing. The Queen already knew about the rebels’ move and even accepted her own death. That fact alone could shake many people. But apart from its shock value, it has no meaning. The Abyssal Trench Project would still remain sealed. For most citizens, the city’s stable order is what matters most. No one cares what a queen who has already been executed thought or did in her last moments. And there is another, more important reason…”

Bishop Ivan paused for a moment and let out a gentle breath.

“A more important reason is this: the Abyssal Trench Project was over. The Queen’s era was over. Everything had settled. At least… that is what I have thought for the past fifty years.”