Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 254: Chapter 258 Unnumbered

Fenna faintly sensed that something was amiss, and the nearby saints also perceived a certain unease. These dim soul projections subconsciously gazed at the ancient being wrapped in a shroud, its countenance fierce and terrifying. In their impressions and according to the records of the Deep Sea Church, all descriptions of the “Tomb Guardian” were imbued with words like “cold,” “dutiful,” “indifferent”—never had any account mentioned that he would use the word “please” to the chosen listener!

However, Fenna had no time to ponder further. She noticed that the Tomb Guardian was patiently waiting for her, so she quickly collected her thoughts and nodded, “Alright.”

The Tomb Guardian turned and led Fenna towards the grand ancient tomb palace, leaving the saints in the square to watch their departing figures.

The heavy tomb gates closed behind her, as if cutting off the sounds of the entire world. Standing in the cold, silent corridor, Fenna’s heart gradually calmed, bit by bit.

This was her second time entering this tomb. Compared to the slightly nervous trepidation she felt on her first visit, she now felt somewhat acclimated.

She knew that she had to go straight ahead, pass through the corridor with messages left by many predecessors, enter the deepest burial chamber, meet the unnamed king’s body, and then she would forget everything she had seen and heard, to be sent outside the tomb—on the parchment in her hand would remain the notes she recorded personally.

Secrets that could not be taken out of the tomb would be torn up, things that could be revealed to the world would be left behind, and the contamination she suffered during the process of listening to knowledge would stay safely in the burial chamber with her “forgotten” memories.

Fenna steadied her spirit and began to walk forward.

A slightly heavy footstep followed her.

The young Judge stopped in astonishment and looked back at the Tomb Guardian following her.

Under normal circumstances, wasn’t the Tomb Guardian supposed to leave after the listener entered the tomb?

“Is there… something else?” Fenna couldn’t help but speak up, her wording cautious, fully on guard.

The Tomb Guardian lowered his gaze, the turbid light filling his lone eye visible outside the shroud, and from his chest came a hoarse voice, “No, just an escort—do you need escorting?”

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The sense of dissonance surged up once again. Although Fenna had entered the tomb only once and was unfamiliar with all the details related to “Anomaly 004,” she instinctively felt that the Tomb Guardian’s behavior was a bit off… quite different from the records.

But Fenna did not lose her composure. She constantly reminded herself that she was in one of the top-ranked ancient anomalies, where every trifling detail was a matter of life and death, so she was extremely cautious, hesitant to rashly accept the Tomb Guardian’s “extra service.” “I think… I know how to proceed.”

The Tomb Guardian just silently watched the “visitor” in front of him, no emotion discernible in his single eye. After a few seconds, he nodded and slowly retreated, “Very well, please go straight ahead, and I will escort you out afterward.”

The figure of the Tomb Guardian disappeared into the corridor.

Fenna was momentarily stunned, suddenly realizing that the other party had even used the term “you” at the end.

…How come this cold, arrogant ancient guardian was so polite today…

She shook her head, striving to clear her mind of all complex thoughts, worrying that this was some kind of mental disturbance caused by the ancient anomaly, and focused on what she was supposed to do. She finally traversed the long corridor and entered the burial chamber at the very depths of the palace.

In the burial chamber, the mysterious headless corpse still sat erect on the lofty throne, pale basins of fire blazed on either side, and across from the unnamed king’s body was a chair, clearly recently moved there.

Fenna’s eyelid twitched.

In that instant, the solemn and self-disciplined Miss Judge harbored a somewhat absurd thought—by the next visit, would there be the addition of a fruit plate here…

She walked towards the chair, sat down gingerly, and then lifted her head to look towards the headless corpse on the throne.

The next second, she opened her eyes and found herself standing on the spacious, magnificent stone square, the chaotic sky shrouding her vision, and mysterious flowing lights rising at the top of broken columns in the distance, while a roaring sound came from behind her—the Anomaly 004 was sinking rapidly, returning to the depths of the earth.

Fenna was still somewhat dazed, while the saints awaiting on the square had already quickly gathered around.

One of the saintly phantoms bore the familiar presence of Valentin. He approached Fenna, his tone urgent, “Quickly see what’s recorded on the parchment.”

Fenna then came to her senses and quickly picked up the parchment in her hand—the outcome was expected, the parchment was still incomplete, but compared to the last time when only a small piece remained, the situation had much improved.

The parchment was only torn in half, with the remaining piece bearing clear handwriting.

Fenna’s gaze swept over the familiar script—

“The shadow in the Dark Abyss has begun to surface.

“The day of setting sail.

“Omen—Plunder.”

The saints looked at each other, and the shadow of Valentin Bishop raised his head, looking at Fenna in astonishment, as if instinctively wanting to ask something but not knowing quite what to inquire.

There was a big problem with the content of the parchment—yet listeners wouldn’t remember their experience in the central tomb chamber, and the words that could be brought out on the scraps were all the information available. Omen 004 wouldn’t answer any superfluous questions, the only guarantee was the accuracy and truth of the message on the paper.

“The shadow in the Dark Abyss… the day of setting sail…” A saint couldn’t help but murmur to himself, looking at his fellows in confusion. “The messages conveyed from the tomb in the past were relatively accurate and straightforward; it’s rare to encounter such cryptic metaphors…”

“Perhaps this is the accurate and straightforward message, but the key part is torn off,” another saint muttered, “Compared to that, the content of the last sentence is…”

“Omen, Plunder.” Someone said softly, almost inaudibly.

Fenna’s gaze was also fixed on the last sentence of the paper; of the three, it wholly captured her attention. She naturally thought of the great fire, the Ghost Ship, and the ghostly flames that swept across the entire City-State—but then, she noticed something else.

“No number…” she said softly in surprise, then looked up at Valentin and repeated, “No number?!”

At that moment, she didn’t even know what to be more astonished by—whether Plunder was identified as an “omen” or that the omen had no number!

The saints showed signs of unrest. Although they were high-ranking clergy from various Church regions, with strong wills and powerful forces, they still inevitably fell into confusion and helplessness. Hushed, uneasy discussions arose around them, and some saints more familiar with each other approached Fenna and Valentin to inquire about Plunder’s recent conditions.

This caused Fenna some confoundment — compared to the seasoned Valentin Bishop, she was still too young.

Fortunately, the commotion only lasted a short while, as the saints gathered in the square suddenly fell silent. Fenna looked up to see the misty shadows giving way to either side as an elegantly dressed lady, wearing luxurious clerical robes, made her way toward her and Valentin Bishop.

Fenna and Valentin promptly bowed in greeting: “Your Holiness.”

“No need for formalities,” the ruler of the Deep Sea Church, the earthly spokesperson for the Storm Goddess, Pope Helena, turned her gaze to Fenna, then to the parchment, “May I take a look?”

“Of course,” Fenna quickly handed over the parchment, “Here you are.”

Helena took the parchment, scanned the text, and then lifted her head, smiling faintly at Fenna: “The handwriting is very neat—much neater than on your reports.”

Fenna was taken aback, not expecting the Pope to suddenly bring this up, then she became somewhat embarrassed: “That report… I wrote it in a rush, and the situation in the City-State was somewhat chaotic…”

“It’s understandable. The first time I wrote such a long report, I almost wanted to swallow the pen,” Helena said with a smile, “So typewriters are a great invention, why not use one?”

Fenna’s tone was a bit odd: “… I always seem to break them by accident, and also, I’m not used to them.”

Helena’s smile grew more evident, then she handed the parchment back to Fenna, casually mentioning: “I have already read your entire report on the historical pollution incident in Plunder—including the part about ‘Homeloss.’ To be honest, after such tremendous changes, it’s not surprising that Plunder City-State has become something like an ‘omen’—although the birth process of this omen is extraordinary, and ‘extraordinary’ is precisely the trait of anomalies and omens.”

She spoke, pausing for a moment, her expression gradually becoming more serious.

“It’s just… having no number is a bit too ‘extraordinary.'”

(Recommendation time: The book’s title is ‘Non-mainstream Food God,’ from Cao Ahmeng’s sea-crossing strategy to conquer the Otherworld with cuisine. Although it’s a new work, everyone is welcome to give it support.)