Chapter 565

Chapter 565: The Foreign Object

For Duncan, the easiest part to guess in the rush of information from the Abyssal Lord was actually the very first line – that something designed to last only eight thousand years was now running in overload.

The first thing that came to his mind was the Sun, now hanging high above the Boundless Sea yet already showing constant faults, even starting to drop parts. That was the first Vision, built in the Ancient Kingdom Era of Critt by the Critt clan under the lead of the Abyssal Lord.

The Sun had been running for ten thousand years. If its original designed lifespan had really been only eight thousand… then its current unsettling state now had an explanation.

From there, the thought spread further. The Abyssal Lord had also mentioned that “they” had been waiting, within this limit, for a signal sent back from “somewhere”, but it had still not arrived. Who did this “they” refer to? And this “somewhere” – that short burst of noise – what place did it name?

“We did not receive the signal from outside &*%? within the time limit…”

Duncan recalled the exact words he had heard from that Elder God and, together with the description in The Blasphemous Tome, he could boldly guess that the “we” it spoke of meant the ancient Elder Kings – that is, the old ones that included today’s four True Gods, as well as the other Elder Gods and lost deities. This single piece of information alone was enough to overturn the world.

The four True Gods and the “evil Elder Gods” recognized by the world were all waiting together for something, even sharing a common goal. If the Vanna of back then heard this, she would probably leap out swinging on the spot.

But what Duncan cared more about was the second half of that sentence: “the signal from outside &*%?”… what exactly was that short burst of noise?

If he connected it to the earlier fact that Vision 001 – the Sun – had also turned into a short burst of noise in the Abyssal Lord’s mouth, could he take it that this short noise here also stood for something similar in nature and rank to Vision 001? Or that there was some important similarity between them?

What were the traits of Vision 001? Its age? That it was a creation of an Elder God of extremely high mystery? Its vast scale that could affect the entire world? Its suspected link to the “Black Sun”? Or…

That some of its “parts” contained key structures from the Old World, such as those “Lost Stars”…

Then could the short noise inside “the signal from outside &*%?” also be related to the Old World?

Duncan raised a hand and gently rubbed his slightly aching forehead. Then he stopped and looked thoughtfully at his own hands.

Flame Usurper… this was not the first time he had heard “someone” call him that.

That “Black Sun” had called him this, and now the “Abyssal Lord” did the same. Their biggest common point was their rank as Elder Gods – that is, both were members of the ancient Elder Kings.

But from the Abyssal Lord’s attitude, it seemed it only knew the name or concept of “Flame Usurper” and not its exact abilities or nature. The only useful detail it had revealed was that the Flame Usurper had awakened at the “Cycle’s End”…

Then what about the other ancient Elder Kings? The Storm Goddess, the Everburning Ember, the God of Wisdom… these deities that still kept close ties with the mortal world – would they know more?

Duncan shook his head and sighed softly with a helpless look.

It was one thing for this world to be full of mysteries, but he himself was just as wrapped in them. What was worse, those “Elder Gods” and “True Gods” knew even more about it than he did, which was naturally frustrating. Even more frustrating was that their “network” was bad – getting in touch with them was purely a matter of luck…

As for what this so-called “Cycle’s End” was supposed to be, Duncan had no clue at all and no energy left to think about it.

He strolled along the path at the edge of the garden and returned to the abrupt stone pillar. There he stood quietly, casting his gaze at the silver-haired doll sleeping in the brambles.

Whether the Abyssal Lord had built this Alice’s Mansion, or whether the mansion had come first and the Lord later used it to form a link with the Mortal Realm, one thing was beyond doubt: the doll sleeping here and the “Alice” in the Mortal Realm were inseparable.

Duncan walked to the side of the sleeping doll and took out the clockwork key he carried with him. As long as he wound this key on the doll, he could return to the Mortal Realm.

But at that moment, a new idea rose in his mind.

Duncan quietly put the key away and turned to walk toward the gate at the garden’s exit.

Following the route in his memory, he passed through the dense, gloomy trees and flowerbeds and came again to the garden gate with its gorgeous stained glass and intricate wrought-iron patterns.

The gate was half open. From the direction of the mansion hall he could faintly hear voices, footsteps, and the soft, broken music of a ball that seemed to never end.

He pushed the door open. The long, shadowy corridor beyond was empty.

But as soon as Duncan stepped into the corridor, the ghostly, headless Butler suddenly came into view – as if the headless Butler had been standing there in the shadows a few meters away from the start.

“Ah, the Guest holding the key,” the Butler came up warmly, a muffled, deep voice sounding from his chest. “Have you greeted the Mistress?”

Duncan glanced at this frightening headless corpse and asked: “Have you been watching me?”

“I am only always waiting for the Guest’s call – and you were only gone for a short while, so I have been waiting here,” the headless Butler bent slightly, his tone as polite and proper as ever. “May I ask what you require next?”

Only gone for a short while?

Duncan frowned a little and remembered the strange idea of “time” in the mansion that the Butler had mentioned last time.

So that meant… just as no matter how long he spent in this mansion, only a moment passed when he returned to the Mortal Realm, no matter how long he moved around in the Mortal Realm after leaving here, it was also only a moment for the servants in the mansion?

This mansion did not simply have time frozen. Its timeline ran independently of the Mortal Realm?

What kind of process lay behind that?

A flood of questions rose again in his heart, but Duncan’s face did not change. He only nodded slightly to the Butler in front of him and casually asked: “During this ‘short while’ I was gone, has anything changed in the mansion?”

“Everything is as always, Guest,” the Butler answered at once. “The mansion rarely changes. From the time I first had memory, it has always looked like this.”

Duncan gave a quiet “mm” and then asked, as if in passing: “Before me, did any other Guest ever enter that garden?”

“Other Guests?” The Butler seemed puzzled for a moment, then quickly replied: “Of course not. You know this: only the Mistress and the Gardener may enter the garden area. Aside from them, it is open only to a Guest holding the key. Why do you suddenly ask?”

Duncan did not answer him. Instead, he asked at once: “That ‘Gardener’ you mentioned – what does he look like?”

“The Gardener… no one knows what the Gardener looks like,” the Butler grew more and more hesitant. It seemed he had never answered such “detailed questions” for anyone before, so each step of his thinking became slower and harder. “The Gardener stopped appearing a long time ago. When the garden no longer needed pruning, he returned to the place where he should be… The Gardener is different from the ordinary servants. His task is to make sure the environment is comfortable when the Mistress rests and that she is not disturbed. Beyond that, he does not need to be responsible for anything in the mansion, and he does not need… to speak with me…”

“It seems that even you, ‘the Butler’, do not know much about this mansion,” Duncan said calmly, casting his gaze on the “headless corpse” before him. “Then have you heard this name?”

“A name? Please speak.”

“The Abyssal Lord, the Crawling King, LH-01 – he may go by any of these three names. Have you heard of him?”

The Butler fell silent for a few seconds, as if thinking carefully.

Then an apologetic answer came from his chest: “I am sorry, Guest. I have no impression.”

The Butler’s tone was very sincere.

Duncan could not read any expression from a body without a head. The posture of this headless corpse was as precise as a machine and revealed no emotional change at all, so he could only choose to believe the answer for now.

“All right. Thank you for your answer.”

The headless Butler bent slightly: “I hope that was of help to you…”

He suddenly stopped. As if hearing some urgent sound, he straightened up at once and turned in another direction.

Almost at the same time, Duncan felt a change in the mood of the mansion. A sense of tension and panic seemed to suddenly spread through the air, and in the empty corridor countless hurried footsteps and whispers rang out at once!

He turned at once to the headless Butler: “What has happened?”

“A foreign object has invaded, Guest. Please excuse me,” the Butler said quickly, then turned and walked toward the other end of the corridor, looking unusually rushed.

A foreign object had invaded?

Duncan froze for a second at the phrase. Before he could react, the Butler had already walked off on his own. Seeing this, Duncan hesitated for a moment, then hurried to follow.

The Butler walked quickly ahead, turning slightly as if to glance at the Guest following behind, but making no move to stop him.

Seeing this, Duncan relaxed and hurried after the Butler, passing through the corridor, up the stairs from the first floor, and into the second-floor hallway that led to the “bedrooms”.

Countless hazy servants emerged from the air. Headless footmen and maids had already gathered in the hallway. These “lost souls” who lived in Alice’s Mansion whispered to each other, their voices a low buzz with no clear words, while a very real sense of unease filled the air.

Duncan already knew this route. He remembered that the end of this passage had once been the bedroom where the soul of Ray Nora, Queen of Frostholm, had slept. But now that the Queen’s soul had escaped, that room had been “torn” away from the main body of the mansion. At the end of the corridor there should be only a Great Hollow leading into an endless, dim space.

“Make way, make way! Do not touch the invading foreign object!” The Butler’s voice came from ahead as he walked forward, driving back the gathered footmen and maids. At this moment he showed some of the authority of the mansion’s administrator. “Where is the foreign object?”

The gathered servants all drew back, leaving an open space in the front part of the corridor.

Duncan looked over the headless Butler’s shoulder and finally saw the “foreign object” that had made the entire mansion so tense.

His expression froze at once.

It was a small bag of trash.

It looked very familiar.