Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 318: Chapter 322: Opening Mystery Boxes Again at the Same Old Place

Listening to Agatha’s undisguised disgust toward the annihilation of the heretics, the old caretaker showed no change in expression—his attention was still mostly on the latest intelligence.

The “samples” taken from the graveyard… had exhibited properties in the lab reminiscent of the so-called Prime Element described by the heretics.

No matter how mad the heretical sect could be, regardless of how their perverse and heretical teachings went against human decency, as a member of the Ecclesiastical, the old caretaker had to understand the heretics’ intelligence, grasp their crazed doctrines and highly contaminative knowledge system. At the heart of the annihilation heretics’ entire set of heretical nonsense was always one core:

The Saint of the Mysterious Deep Sea, and the various “miracles” created by the Saint.

The annihilation heretics firmly believed that the world we live in, which is blessed by the gods, is not the “peaceful paradise” it appears to be, but in reality, it is a severely corroded and utterly warped “exile land.” They considered the bright prosperity of the real world as nothing but an illusion woven by the gods, and the true destination of human souls, and the “uncontaminated reality,” is not here at all, but in the deep realm—the Abstruse Domain.

On this basis, they believed that only the Saint of the Mysterious Deep Sea and the demons represent the purest, most original, uncorrupted state of this world. They also believed that humans can only return to the Abstruse, to the original state, by purifying their own tainted flesh.

However, the mortal realm is blocked by the gods. There is a barrier between the “distorted reality” and the “true reality (the Mysterious Deep Sea)”, and the flesh and blood of mortals are the physical manifestation of this barrier. As long as human souls remain trapped in these bodies and endure a lifetime of continuous “contamination,” it is impossible to return to the Abstruse.

Therefore, the Saint would bestow something known as the Prime Element—a miracle. The heretics believe that this holy substance is the foundation of all things at the birth of the world. All plans and blueprints of the Saint when shaping the “real world” are hidden in the microscopic scale of the Prime Element, and only the Prime Element can counter the Curse within the flesh and blood of worldly beings, allowing humans to return to their “pure original state at birth.”

Regarding this substance called the Prime Element, the annihilation heretics described it as:

“…It will exhibit all the traits of everything in the world and be in a constant cycle of evolution. It represents all the plans and blueprints of the Saint of the Mysterious Deep Sea for shaping reality, and the short-sighted mortals will never be able to measure any accurate traits of the Prime Element…”

The old caretaker suddenly lifted his head, staring into Agatha’s eyes, “…Do you think that’s the Prime Element?”

Agatha’s response was without hesitation, “The Prime Element is just nonsense spouted by those heretics. It is probably some kind of new material that our current knowledge system cannot yet explain. Its changing properties could be some natural phenomenon or perhaps some transcendent power—but it can’t be any ‘miracle’ bestowed by the Saint of the Mysterious Deep Sea.”

However, facing such a response, the old caretaker showed no change in expression, simply continuing to gaze steadily into the guard’s eyes, “Do you think that’s the Prime Element?”

Faced with the second inquiry, Agatha finally fell silent briefly. After two or three seconds, she exhaled softly, “But I have to admit, at least in terms of its properties… the collected samples align with the description given by those heretics.”

The old caretaker lifted his head, looking towards the morgue not far away.

The light snow had gradually grown heavier after nightfall, the flakes falling incessantly from the dark night sky. Canes stood in the dimly lit graveyard, their lanterns perched atop casting a halo around the scattered snowflakes, adding a hazy quality to everything.

His gaze moved past these scattered snowflakes and lights, resting on an empty slab in the morgue.

A special corpse had once been laid there.

“Those samples… were once a person, or at least they seemed like a person,” the old caretaker mumbled to himself, “You led the team that brought it here, you should remember.”

“Of course, I remember,” Agatha spoke softly, “It is rare for a body to require the ‘caretaker’ to transport it personally, and that body fell into the deepest part of the mineshaft. That’s the deepest place in the entire City-State, and the dead brought out from there are… very special.”

“But his peculiarity still exceeded everyone’s expectations,” the old caretaker turned his head, looking at the young gatekeeper, “You all found the real person who fell into the well the next day, so that body was obviously only a ‘Replication’ of the actual deceased… a Replication made of the Prime Element. No wonder it drew the attention of those annihilation heretics.”

“Perhaps it’s not that they were drawn to it, but that the entire incident was their doing,” Agatha shook her head, “We suspect that the mine accident was the heretics’ trickery, intended to create a ‘Replication’ in the depths of the mineshaft using the sacrificial victim, like some kind of ritual sacrifice. However, it’s clear that something went wrong with their plan, leading to the Replication being accidentally discovered and even brought to your graveyard.”

The old caretaker shrugged his shoulders, “It also drew the attention of an indescribable ‘Visitor.’”

“…Yes, an indescribable Visitor,” Agatha’s usually calm expression finally shifted slightly, her tone becoming cautious, “We still don’t know what His deeper intentions are.”

The old caretaker looked up at the sky, then after a moment of silence, he spoke, “The night is deep now.”

The cemetery had fallen into silence, the unspeakable strangeness and stillness draped between the paths and platforms, saturating the night wind that bore snowflakes.

Everyone was waiting—for an indescribable visitor or a peaceful sunrise.

But how long this silence lasted was unknown, just as Agatha was about to suggest the old church guard return to the cottage for some rest, a soft knocking sound suddenly echoed in the night.

From a nearby coffin arose a clear, deep voice:

“Why have you all stopped talking?”

In the silent cemetery, such a voice suddenly broke through, leaving even the well-trained church guards momentarily stunned with horror. Agatha even felt the snowflakes drifting in the lamplight stay in place for a couple of seconds—then in the next second, all the protectors had quickly gathered around that speaking coffin, the sound of boots on the snowy ground started to intensify.

Agatha instantly transformed into a pale shadow, appearing next to the mortuary table almost instantaneously, staring intently at that vocal coffin. After taking a couple of deep breaths, she managed to speak as calmly as possible, “You are… the visitor from the day before yesterday?”

“I hope I haven’t frightened you by coming uninvited,” Duncan considered from within the coffin and casually greeted, “I did indeed come by two days ago, but the event was disrupted by heretics meddling, making my interaction with that particular guard rather unsuccessful.”

Footsteps sound from the side as the old church guard with a somber expression cautiously approached the coffin. He quickly glanced over the dark coffin with the corner of his eye, then just as quickly looked away.

Even though he wasn’t overwhelmed by incense this time and had even pre-treated himself with a potion to ward off mental contamination, the psychological shadow from the last “contact” was so severe that the battle-hardened veteran remained exceedingly cautious.

“…You’ve been here since?” After regaining a bit of composure, the old guard finally broke the silence.

“Since the time you began discussing that ‘Prime Element,’” Duncan’s voice came from the coffin, “I found the information quite interesting—yet you suddenly ceased speaking.”

Agatha lifted her head, exchanging a surprised look with the old guard.

Her lips moved slightly, but her voice went straight into the guard’s mind, “This visitor… is he so approachable?”

The old guard shrugged his shoulders, his lips moving subtly too, “How would I know?”

The two church officials completed their brief exchange, and then Agatha gestured gently to those around.

The black-clad guards around the coffin immediately stepped lightly to the side, careful not to let this overcautious approach seem like a challenge to the “visitor” that had descended upon a corpse.

Duncan within the coffin had already sensed the presence of those around him; he had lain there for more than just a few minutes, listening patiently and curiously from the moment the old guard and the young woman began discussing the “Prime Element.” Sensing the crowd dispersing, he casually remarked with a laugh, “There are quite a few people here tonight, aren’t there?”

“…We mean no offense to you,” Agatha responded promptly with care, unable to confirm the origins of this “visitor,” but acknowledging that there was no initial hostility expressed. Therefore, showing sufficient politeness was the first step in interacting with a superior, non-hostile “transcendent” being, “The arrangements here are solely for the protection of our own sanity.”

“Oh, I understand. It’s quite bothersome when people start talking to me and suddenly lose their minds,” Duncan’s tone carried a hint of amusement, “It’s good that you know how to protect yourselves.”

Agatha furrowed her brow.

She had had her share of encounters with the transcendent beings—some thoroughly vile and chaotic dangers—but this was the first time engaged in such a casual conversation.

“May we know who you are… which entity?” she ventured after a moment’s hesitation.

Duncan from within the coffin seriously pondered.

He then recalled the illustrious feat of the Homeloss dragging the thirteen islands of Vessland into the Subspace, and the conversation with Morris and Fenna about the connections between those thirteen islands and the death cult.

“Just a nameless traveler, let’s not be curious about my name—it’s better for both of us.”

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