Deep Sea Embers

The visitor left, as suddenly as he had come.

The old guard of the cemetery was a little dazed. He looked at the direction where the flame dissipated, but he still had a lot of information revealed by the other party in the short conversation just now in his mind. It wasn't until Annie next to him grabbed his sleeve that the old man Suddenly woke up.

He lowered his head and saw that Annie was looking at him uneasily. In addition to being helpless, there was tension and confusion in the girl's eyes.

Maybe she already understands life and death, but she still can't fully understand what happened just now.

The old guard bent over, his old and stiff joints were a little tingling in the cold winter, he stretched out his hand, and patted the snowflakes on Annie's shoulder: "Annie, don't be afraid, nothing bad happened."

"Grandpa Watcher..." The girl's lips moved, she tried to organize words as much as possible, but she didn't know where to start asking, "That person just now..."

"Don't ask too much, don't think too much, just like the textbooks say, don't pry into the knowledge that is not open to ordinary people - you just need to know that it is a visitor, he has no malice towards you, now that he has left, you and His connection ends here."

"Then my father..."

"Your father may have done great things—beyond all of us can imagine," the old warden said softly, reaching out to stroke the girl's hair, "Don't worry, Anne, he is no longer adrift at sea, he went to A better place. Go back and tell your mother, she has been waiting for this news for a long time."

Annie pursed her lips, and after a long hesitation, she confirmed in a low voice: "This time, is it true?"

"It's true," the old guard laughed, "You are no longer a six-year-old child."

Annie nodded half-understanding, and then said goodbye to the old guard of the cemetery. She turned around, walked towards the path leading to the block, and walked slowly towards the road home along the ruts that had not yet frozen into ice. direction, slowly blending into the background of the city covered in silver.

Before the entrance of the cemetery, the old guard looked in the direction of the path for a long time, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he knew that Annie's figure had disappeared at the intersection.

The child did not fall this time.

Then he raised his hand and lightly pressed the contents in his pocket—a letter that seemed to contain countless secrets was lying there quietly.

From an indescribable visitor, seemingly ordinary materials may also carry unimaginable knowledge and mysteries. What does this letter... mean?

The old guard's eyes gradually became serious, he turned back to the cemetery, and at the same time waved his hand behind him, and the heavy wrought iron fence door creaked shut.

Today the cemetery will not be open again.

...

Agatha looked at the torn pieces on the ground with a serious expression. The cold wind from the alleyway blew her long hair, and the cold air kept creeping into the gaps in the clothes and bandages. In the bone-penetrating cold air, It seemed that the fear and despair of the two Annihilation Cultists were still frozen when they were dying.

Several black-clothed guards are busy nearby. The team that came here to deal with the scene before has blocked the entrance and exit of the alley, and there are also personnel in several nearby alleys investigating clues—the evidence collection work is proceeding in an orderly manner, but Agatha The confusion in my heart has not abated so far.

What kind of power would turn people into pieces like porcelain dolls?

No divine or heretical spell known so far has such an effect, not even the myriad of enchantments used by the Dark Demons have this eccentricity.

The young gatekeeper raised his cane and poked one of the shards with the tin end, and the pale, ceramic-like piece flipped on the ground with a crisp sound.

It flipped over to reveal roughly half a face, including lips, the bridge of the nose and one eye.

Even if it is incomplete, it still clearly freezes the horror expression of the cultist at the moment of death.

And...a weird smile?

Agatha frowned, and she could see that the lips on the ceramic shard showed a suspicious curve, as if a reassuring and peaceful smile was frozen just as it was about to emerge—and this subtle curve and that one The fear in the eyes appeared on one face at the same time, making it look even more weird and frightening.

After pondering for a moment, she shook her head and walked to another "scene" deep in the alley.

A pile of almost charred wreckage was piled up in the alley, and traces of fierce fighting and explosions could still be seen around the wreckage. The scope of the impact was large, but the battle process was obviously overwhelming—at the same time, it was also the same as that at the alley entrance. Heap shards for very different fighting styles.

A priest inspecting the scene got up from the pile of wreckage, and nodded to Agatha while taking off his gloves: "A priest of annihilation who has completed deep purification, judging from the degree of flesh and blood distortion, is not weak. A full squad of 12 guards, it is also possible to fight back and break through, but it was quickly resolved - and there is almost no trace of counterattack."

Agatha frowned slightly: "Can you see where his opponent came from?"

The pastor shook his head: "The simplest and most brutal attack method, pure force, makes it difficult to judge the identity of the other party, but we found some traces of abnormal condensation of water vapor nearby, and this may be the only clue."

"Water condensation...is that just a trace," Agatha said softly, and then looked back at the direction of the alley. "Two completely different fighting styles."

"Yes, one is simple and rude, and the other is weird and dangerous. The common point is that they are all powerful—the priest-level heretics have no chance to fight back," the priest nodded and said, "The only good news is that they are obviously the enemies of the Annihilation Sect. "

"The enemy of the enemy is not necessarily our friend," Agatha shook her head. "What's more, they obviously have a tendency to hide their actions—they don't want to show their faces. This in itself is worthy of vigilance."

Speaking of this, she paused, and then asked: "What about the investigation of the surrounding residents?"

"Nearby residents have heard the movement of the battle, but most of them dare not spy on it. They can only judge the time and duration of the battle from their mouths - it happened after about one o'clock in the morning, and the duration may be less than three minutes."

"That's all? What about the rest?"

"There is no more news for the time being," the pastor spread his hands, "I have arranged for people to investigate the situation door-to-door, including the alleys further away, to see if they can find any sighting reports of strangers, but Hearth Street is a big place. Block, it is estimated that there will be no results in a short time."

At this moment, a sound of hurried footsteps suddenly came from the side, interrupting the conversation between Agatha and the pastor.

A guard with short brown hair walked quickly into the alley, came to the priest and quickly reported the situation.

"Inside the building?" Hearing the report from his subordinates, the priest immediately frowned and looked up at the building diagonally across the alley.

Upon seeing this, Agatha immediately asked, "What's going on?"

"The situation was discovered in the house at No. 42," the pastor said immediately. "There was a Sen'jin woman who was attacked by extraordinary forces and fell into a coma, and a room contaminated by strange things was found on the second floor of the house."

...

Cemetery No. 3, inside the caretaker's hut, the old caretaker carefully locked the door, and then came to the desk in the corner with a serious expression.

He had told the guards outside to be vigilant around the hut and to protect the open space around the house—but it was not enough.

After arriving at the desk, he took out incense, essential oils, candles, and herbal powder from the drawer, and began to arrange a powerful altar.

Light the candle at a specific location, add essential oils and herbal powder to it, and bless the entire desk with the scent of incense, then place the incense burner in the middle of the candlestick, and construct it according to the symbol of the altar—he prepared this skillfully Everything, every movement seems to have been rehearsed thousands of times.

This is what a veteran should have.

A few minutes later, the altar was constructed.

The old guard exhaled softly, looking at the pale burning flames on the candlesticks, and the thin incense smoke condensed on the table like substance, he could feel that the power of Bartok, the god of death, had descended on this place for a short time. In the small hut, the power of blessing lingered around the desk, stabilizing the order of time and space here, as well as stabilizing his own spirit.

To come into contact with indescribable knowledge, no amount of rigorous and cumbersome preparatory measures can be overstated.

He sat down slowly, completed another prayer in his heart, and then solemnly took out the letter from his pocket.

The old man looked at the cover of the letter.

This is something given to him by the unnamed visitor. He confessed that he would pass it on to the gatekeeper Agatha, but he also said that as long as the news can be sent to the Frost Cathedral--in words, there is no Said that no one else is allowed to open the letter.

If you only need to pass on the message, then it is also possible to retell it after reading it yourself.

After all, the cemetery warden is the first line of defense to the cathedral.

The old man breathed a sigh of relief, fully prepared, picked up the letter opener next to him, and carefully opened the seemingly ordinary cover.

A folded letter slipped out of the envelope.

With an unprecedented solemn expression and resoluteness almost like a martyrdom, the old guard slowly unfolded the letter paper——

The three characters of "report letter" came into view.

The old guard: "...?"