Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 253: Chapter 257 “Politeness

The swift bell rang urgently, pealing seven short chimes, and after a few seconds’ interval, it rang another seven times, three rounds in total.

Tirian listened attentively to the noises outside the window. He heard some talking in the hallways and rushed footsteps on the square outside.

The mid and senior-ranking priests were responding to the bell, arranging protection at key points and preparing for the vigil. The highest-ranking figures in the cathedral probably had already gone to a secret sanctuary, ready to participate in the saints’ assembly.

Tirian was not a man of the church, but he had lived half a century and understood the rules quite well. He could discern critical information from the frequency and repetition of the bell—it was the summoning bell for “Listening.” It was an invitation to a meeting issued directly from the Tomb of the Nameless King, and the situation sounded quite urgent.

“Is there another anomaly or phenomenon causing trouble? Is it a new one? Or has an old one undergone significant changes?” wondered Lucrezia pensively.

Tirian listened for a while to the noises outside, then turned his attention back and shook his head, “This is Deep Sea Church’s own affair; we needn’t get involved.”

“Right,” Lucrezia nodded slightly, then looked at her brother, “About anomaly 099, is there anything else you want to ask?”

Tirian pondered for a moment and then shook his head, “No, nothing more—besides, with the swift bell ringing this evening, the cathedral will soon enter the state of vigil. It’s best we cease discussing matters related to the anomaly.”

“Okay, I’ll get back to my own matters,” Lucrezia quickly responded. Following that, the crystal ball placed on the table began to flicker. Her figure also started to fade. But just before the connection was completely cut, she seemed to remember something and suddenly spoke, “There’s one more thing, about our father.”

Tirian hesitated slightly, “…Go on.”

“Did father appear coherent when he approached you this time?”

“He was lucid, his logic clear, and even somewhat…” Tirian hesitated but eventually continued, “I’m not entirely sure, but it seemed almost affectionate.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated on ƝονǤ0.ᴄο

…

Fenna rushed into the grand cathedral and saw Bishop Valentin already waiting by the statue of the goddess. She hurried forward, “Why has there been another summons so soon… That’s never happened before.”

“I don’t know; this time the bell was controlled directly by the Storm Cathedral. It wouldn’t be rung without cause,” Valentin nodded at Fenna and turned, speaking rapidly as he walked toward the corridor leading to the “Flooded Cavern,” “It might be like last time, a direct change in the list of anomalies and phenomena, with the Tomb Guardian issuing the summons from the crypt.”

Fenna followed the old bishop’s steps. Passing by the statue of the goddess, she paused momentarily as if hesitant but eventually bowed reverently as she usually did before continuing towards the corridor entrance.

Soon, they reached the chamber at the end of the corridor used for crafting the “Spiritual Energy Channel,” the Flooded Cavern.

The scene inside the chamber was as usual; the ancient stone walls piled up were perpetually damp, a firepit in the room’s center burned with ethereal flames, gentle sounds of flowing water and overlapping waves filled the surroundings, creating a strangely serene atmosphere.

The chamber door was closed.

Fenna took a deep breath, stood before the firepit, and looked down at the flames that burned brightly without fuel.

She allowed her mind to gradually calm, her spirit syncing with the goddess’s guidance. The flickering flames became a stable anchor in her sight, slowly filling her vision.

This process was usually straightforward, but this time, Fenna found it particularly challenging.

She tried not to imagine the flames suddenly turning a ghostly green or envision Captain Duncan’s eyes lurking behind them. She glanced at Bishop Valentin beside her, seeing his calm eyes and steady breathing, indicating he had entered the assembly ahead of her.

Fenna turned her gaze back, inhaled gently, and again tried to focus her spirit to sync with the goddess’s guidance.

Luckily, she succeeded this time.

The ethereal seawater surged up, gently enveloping her, her perceptions detached from her mortal body and reformed in another dimension. Fenna was slightly disoriented but soon found herself in the ancient, mystical assembly hall—a familiar boundless square, surrounded by broken ancient pillars, and gatherings of blurry humanoid shadows between them.

One of the shadows quickly approached her; it was Bishop Valentin, “Fenna, having trouble? It took you quite some time.”

“Just couldn’t concentrate,” Fenna casually remarked. Then, she noticed a conspicuous figure standing at the edge of the square—a figure distinct and clear compared to the vague shadows of the other saints, clearly visible as a beautiful lady in an elaborate gown.

Fenna certainly recognized that figure.

“The Pope herself has already arrived?” She was somewhat surprised, “Ah, this really isn’t the best time to be late.”

“No worries, you get used to being late,” Valentin said nonchalantly, “When I arrived, Her Holiness was already here. She might have even been the first to arrive. I guess she might have had some special arrangements…”

Fenna listened absently, somewhat perturbed by the solid yet elegant silhouette that seemed to cast an intermittent, focused gaze in her direction, a look that made her feel slightly uneasy, and even… nervous.

Just then, Pope Helena suddenly turned her head.

She truly looked directly at Fenna, then a hint of a smile seemed to flicker across her face as she nodded slightly.

Fenna paused for a moment, and just as she was about to return the gesture, a deep, thunderous rumble interrupted her.

She followed the sound and saw the stone pavement at the center of the square rising up quickly; the fragmented ground rippled like water. In a moment, an ancient, gloomy palace built of pale giant stones appeared in the saints’ view.

The Tomb of the Nameless King had appeared.

The saints, who were talking quietly, quickly fell silent. A hushed and solemn atmosphere enveloped the square. Fenna quickly gathered her thoughts, ignoring the Pope’s gaze that was cast toward her, and instead focused intently on the ancient palace’s pyramid-shaped main building, staring at its entrance.

The large door at the entrance opened, and an extremely tall Tomb Guardian stepped out.

Wrapped in shroud, half of its body charred, and the other half bound in chains, like the last time they had seen it, this terrifying creature made from flesh, iron bindings, and death curses strode towards the gathering of saints in the square.

The selection had been made.

In the next moment, it crossed each shadow on the square without hesitation and stopped right in front of Fenna.

The Tomb Guardian lowered its head, calmly looking at the saint before it:

“You, may enter the tomb chamber.”

He raised his hand, presenting a feather pen and parchment, waiting for Fenna’s response.

Fenna froze for a moment—almost all the saints did.

The Tomb Guardian had chosen the same saint twice to enter the tomb!

This had never happened in the past thousands of years!

Of course, there were no explicit “rules” preventing the Tomb Guardian from selecting the same saint consecutively, but over the years, the Tomb Guardian always chose different saints in two consecutive callings; it had almost become an unwritten “rule.” Even if a saint who had entered the tomb the last time came to the gathering again, it was merely to obey the command and ensure the completeness of the “listening” ritual.

No one expected that Fenna would be chosen again.

Fenna remained frozen for several seconds while the patient Tomb Guardian continued to extend its hand, waiting. At that moment, the sensation of being watched struck her again, and subconsciously following the feeling, her eyes met Pope Helena’s profound gaze.

Fenna tensed up, a bit guilty as she diverted her gaze, then she noticed that the Tomb Guardian was still waiting—the ancient guardian, looking terrifying yet impassive, moved the parchment and feather pen slightly forward.

“Me again?”

Fenna asked instinctively, but instantly regretted it—how could the Tomb Guardian answer such trivial questions?

However, she then heard a hoarse, deep voice coming from in front of her: “Yes, it’s you again.”

Fenna was somewhat startled; she looked up at the Tomb Guardian’s somewhat fierce face before reaching out to take the parchment and the feather pen.

The Tomb Guardian seemed to nod slightly, straightening up as it spoke:

“Please write down what you’ve heard.”

Fenna nodded subconsciously but suddenly felt something was off.

It felt like… the Tomb Guardian was much more polite than before?

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