Deep Sea Embers

The guard's hut became quiet, and a strange silence seemed to fill the air as if frozen—the old guard even had some kind of illusion, as if even the altar on the desk, the candlelight, the incense smoke, and the faint scent in the air The spiritual power also froze for a short time.

Illusion?

The old man raised his head suspiciously, and saw that the flames of the candlesticks in his vision were beating, but it seemed that the beating started the moment he raised his head.

He stared at the pale flame for a long time, then slowly shook his head, put his gaze back on the letter paper in front of him, and looked at the words on it with a strange mood that he had never experienced in his life.

But after only reading a few lines, he couldn't care less about the disobedience and embarrassment in his heart—the contents of this letter began to make him realize the seriousness of the matter.

The warning that the city-state is being eroded and infiltrated by the power of the deep sea, the evidence of the large-scale activities of the Annihilation Cultists, the speculation of the invasion of the real world by the Lord of the Deep, and... the warning about the Dagger Island.

The old guard stared at the lines on the letter in his hand, and suddenly felt that the disturbing atmosphere that had spread in the city-state had finally been explained.

He didn't know if he should believe this "report" from an indescribable existence, but there was no doubt about one thing—the gatekeeper must be notified at this time, and the cathedral must be notified!

...

Agatha bent down and carefully examined the sleeping Sen'jin lady on the sofa—the latter was still asleep, unaware that a large group of guards had gathered in the room at this time, and even occasionally He also grunted uncomfortably.

She can still talk in her sleep, which shows that her mind was not damaged in the "attack", and the uninvited guests who entered the house before were not malicious.

Agatha's gaze swept over Galone. Miss Senjin's body can almost be described as burly - most Senjin people are like this, they are born with a well-developed body and skin as tough as a stone ——After a simple inspection, the young gatekeeper found that the muscles on the other party's body would tense from time to time, coupled with the vague and uneasy sleep talk just heard... It seems that the dream of this Senjin lady is not stable.

"No external injuries, no signs of mental pollution, no traces of struggle, it looks like it's just an ordinary sleep—but it can't be woken up," a priest wearing a gray coat stood aside, reporting the current situation to Agatha, "Considering that there is no sign of damage to the door lock, and there are signs of use in the kitchen, it is preliminarily judged that the 'intruder' was invited into the house."

"...Maybe they are acquaintances, or they may be guests who have gained trust," Agatha muttered softly, "How is the situation on the second floor?"

"A large number of samples have been collected, and a dying record was found. The person who left the record should be the source of the... abnormal substances in the room," the pastor said with a nod. The man who should be called 'Brown Scott' is a folklorist."

"Folklorist?" Agatha frowned, "Have you investigated any background information?"

"I have sent someone to the nearest resident management office to file, but there is no response yet."

"You take care of this lady here first," Agatha nodded, "I'll go to the second floor to check on the situation."

"Yes, Your Excellency the Gatekeeper."

In the study room on the second floor, the guards have already completed the initial proof and sample collection work on the scene. When Agatha came here, her subordinates were trying to remove the dried "mud" hanging from the bookshelf. Clear away to divert the large collection of books in the room.

In places where extraordinary out-of-control has occurred, the books left on the site are very likely to be contaminated by extraordinary forces. It is a necessary process to transfer and seal these books for research—even if doing so may "destroy the scene".

Agatha's eyes fell on the dried gray-black mud.

These things... reminded her of the samples collected in Cemetery No. 3, those... strange substances suspected of being "elements".

She also saw the "dying record" mentioned by the pastor before - it was placed in the most conspicuous place on the desk.

From the very first moment she saw the record, Agatha judged that the manuscript had been processed by someone. There were obvious traces of cleaning on its surface, and the cleaning was very meticulous.

This is not something that an intruder with malicious intentions would do, but like a "professional" who investigates the incident for a legitimate purpose like himself, thinking of the lady on the first floor who fell asleep soundly, Agatha I already have some preliminary guesses in my mind.

A mysterious third party, at least it doesn't look like an enemy—is it the same group of people who fought against the Oblivion Cultists in the alley outside?

If so...then this "third-party" power should be paid close attention to.

With all kinds of conjectures and inferences in her mind, Agatha's eyes slowly scanned the words on the "dying record", and as the words soaked in determination, courage and awareness came into view, the gatekeeper His eyes gradually became heavy and serious.

The owner who left the record...has retained a clear consciousness and memory.

After pondering for a while, Agatha took a light breath, and solemnly put the deathbed record back on the desk, then raised the cane she carried with her in one hand, and slowly slid across the floor with the tin cane end .

The sound of metal and wood rubbing against each other sounded, and a pale flame burned at the end of the stick, leaving the same pale glowing trace on the floor, and as the flame and glowing traces extended, the rubbing sound of the stick on the floor began. There was a change—it became low and slow, as if a thick barrier had been built invisible, isolating the surrounding space little by little.

Soon, Agatha outlined a triangular area large enough for an adult to stand on, and painted the rune of the god of death Bartok in the triangular area, and then she stepped into the center of the triangle, holding the cane in one hand Putting it beside her, the other hand reached out to her eye socket.

A living eyeball jumped out of its socket and landed on her palm.

In just a split second, the surroundings became quiet, and all the sounds from the real dimension were cut off from the triangle by invisible barriers. Immediately afterwards, countless whispers emerged from the silence, as if there were thousands of invisible voices. Peepers were gathering outside the triangle, babbling something to the gatekeeper.

Agatha raised her hand, palm up, scanning her surroundings with her eyeballs.

Everything in the room, including the busy guards, the flying dust in the air, and the hands of the clock on the wall, fell into a stillness like solidified amber, and quickly faded into darkness in the stillness, a strange feeling The pale glow of the room diffused in from the window, passing through the wooden boards that blocked the window, reflecting the room indistinctly.

And in this eerily pale stagnant time and space, only Agatha in the middle of the triangle still maintains the appearance and color of a living person. She closes her eyes tightly and only holds her eyeballs with her left hand. She looks around calmly while scanning her surroundings. "I want to talk to the dead here."

The countless irritating whispers around her suddenly weakened a lot, and Agatha turned her left hand to let her eyes look at the desk not far away.

It's where folklorist Brown Scott last worked, leaving "dying notes," and theoretically, if a spirit ever resided here, some of its afterglow should still linger here.

Even if the "mud" that can be seen everywhere in the room shows that what was in this room at the beginning was most likely just a "monster" condensed by extraordinary power, the "monster" obviously had human nature in its body. Regarding this point, Aga After reading that record, Sha was already convinced.

However, she found nothing beside the empty desk.

There is no afterglow of the soul, no projection formed by obsession, not even a little flash representing the remnant of spirituality, there is only a table that has lost its color, and black matter is piled up on the table, and thin smoke rises from the matter.

Agatha's eyeballs were slowly shaking in the palm of her hand.

The gatekeeper is thinking.

Is it because the death time is too long, and the afterglow of the soul has dissipated? Or is it because the person who stayed in this room was just a "fake", so there is no real humanity, but only a simulated memory and personality? Or... that soul has already passed through Bartok's gate and entered its resting place?

The last conjecture is especially impossible—after all, judging from the current situation of the room, even if the soul of "Brown Scott" stayed here, it has been seriously polluted, and the polluted soul...is Can't go through that door.

But where did the soul go?

The low whispers around him sounded again, and it was noisier and more annoying than before.

The shadows of the spirit world began to be restless, and they didn't like the sudden intruders—even if they were powerful gatekeepers, it was best not to stay at this depth for too long.

Thinking of this, Agatha raised her cane and paused twice on the floor.

When the tin cane hit the ground, it made a loud noise like thunder.

"Agatha, the gatekeeper of the world, wants to talk to the gatekeeper of the world of the dead."