Chapter 150: Chapter 154: Archive Library
The caretaker of the archive was an aged old priest, bent at the waist, his sparse white hair in disarray, adorned atop with a complex set of lenses made from brass cranks and crystal panes, with a scent of machine oil emanating from his being.
The old priest sat behind a dark-hued circular desk, intently studying what appeared to be a mechanical creation akin to a Rubik’s cube through the lens assembly, using some delicate tools to disassemble the cube into a pile of components. The brilliance of the gas lamp shone on these parts, giving them a glittering glow.
As Fenna approached, her tall figure blocked the light to the side, prompting the old priest to lift his head and push aside the lenses from before his eyes. Seeing who it was, he smiled, “Oh, it’s the Judge—what assistance do you need today?”
“Where can I find the City-State’s disaster records from around the year 1889?” Fenna nodded to the old priest and inquired.
“Disaster records for the year 1889?” The old priest murmured while tapping a section of the large circular table, which promptly emitted a gentle sound of mechanical friction. A panel within the table slid down, and a mechanical stand laden with numerous cranks, numbered dials, and switches rose from within.
Accompanied by the squeaking and creaking of machinery in motion, the old priest deftly manipulated the switches and dials of the intricate device. After entering the required information, Fenna heard the characteristic low roar of large machinery in operation. She felt the floor beneath her feet slightly vibrating as innumerable gears and linkages joyfully rotated under the propulsion of the steam core. Soon after, a crisp “ding” issued from the mechanism in front of the old priest, and a printed strip of paper subsequently emerged from the machine.
“Go straight ahead on this path, turn left at the third row of shelves, turn right at the end, and a shelf will have lights turned on—that row with the lights is the one you need. The content is quite mixed, all incidents that can be considered disasters are recorded, including the smallest steam-related injuries. If you need help, ring the bell.”
While speaking, the old priest passed over the strip of paper—grasped in a prosthetic hand, a brass-made palm and forearm with sophisticated mechanical structure, and through a transparent window on its back, one could see gears ticking away inside.
Fenna thought to herself that this might be a veteran guardian retired from the front lines—among the ecclesiastical departments of the Storm Church, such veterans were not uncommon.
Their bodies had been maimed, and with blood and sacrifice, they had proved their faith and loyalty. The assistance of steam mechanisms or magic prosthetics enabled them to continue serving the church, and working with archives formed part of the final repose for some of these old soldiers.
In a certain sense, of course, this was preferential treatment for the warriors—relatively leisurely and comfortable, the archive department was suitable for “retirement,” and from another perspective, it was also an excellent application of their abilities—these old soldiers may no longer be fit for combat against the heretics, but their will remained steadfast, and guarding books and archives… always required a steadfast will.
A wave of respect emerged in Fenna’s heart as she received the strip of paper with both hands, bowing slightly, “Thank you.”
“Make sure to put the books back after you’re done, and don’t touch those that aren’t listed,” the old priest waved his hand, “many books here have been placed for a long time, don’t disturb them needlessly.”
Having said that, he returned to his “work” and paid no further attention to Fenna.
Fenna did not mind, simply carrying the strip with the book listings towards the depths of the archive. Grand enough to be described as “majestic,” rows of shelves neatly lined up on either side of her, each linking to the dome above, like eternal sentinels standing in formation, gazing down upon the tiny human figure below. Bright electric lights and precisely positioned gas lamps alternated between the shelves, lighting up the place brightly and leaving not a single dark shadow buried between even the deepest shelves.
Fenna found the shelf mentioned by the old priest—a row of small light bulbs illuminated on the shelf, signaling the files she was permitted to peruse.
The files were not placed low, but fortunately, Fenna was tall enough to retrieve the books without the need for a ladder, which was a relief.
Pushing ladders up and down such an enormous library would not be an easy task.
She took a deep breath, located the starting point of the file on the shelf, pulled out the archive labeled with a number, and began rapidly flipping through it.
What she was looking for was simple: the great fire from eleven years ago, or rather, the fire that had been disguised as a factory leak incident.
In truth, it was not her first time investigating this incident—as a Judge, she naturally had a keen sense for all “unusual phenomena,” which also included events that happened to her own person. Once she knew that she alone remembered the fire from her childhood, she had privately sought out some records from that time, but those cursory investigations yielded no results.
At the time, she quickly put the matter out of her mind.
Because no matter what, she was only twelve years old when that accident happened. She was neither a believer of the goddess nor did she have an exceptional mind—a panicked child who inhaled poison smoke could easily have some incorrect memories. There was no need to overthink it. So after perusing some public archives, she let the issue go.
But now, she suddenly discovered that there were others in the Plunder City-State who had experienced the fire that lingered in her memory.
The doubts and numerous speculations that had been put aside surged up in an instant, and her “professional alertness” as a Judge rang wildly in her mind.
It was also because of this professional alertness that she declined Heidi’s suggestion to “return to the antique shop” at the time and waited discreetly until today when she ran straight to the goddess-favored archive to investigate the unpublicized original materials.
The reason was simple; there was a dangerous scent to this affair—erasing a great fire sounded easy, but it actually involved the cognition and memories of thousands of people. Moreover, this event was also tied to the destruction wrought by the heretics in those years. If all this was the work of some “behind-the-scenes manipulator,” that manipulator would certainly not sit idly by and allow anyone to detect this truth.
The memories lingering in her mind, the memories lingering in the mind of a girl named Nina… these “remnants” could very well be oversights by the manipulator. The “person” hidden behind the scenes may not have noticed these oversights yet, but if he did… she was not afraid, but Nina and her uncle, as well as a girl named Sherry, were all ordinary people.
That’s why she had refused Heidi’s suggestion at the time and also insisted that Heidi not bring up the matter again afterward—on one hand, she did not want to startle the snake out of its hole and aimed to carry out her investigation under the radar; on the other hand, it was to avoid involving the innocent.
Before gaining certain intelligence, she absolutely could not show any excessive attention to the antique shop beyond what was necessary.
Slowly flipping through the archives in her hands, Fenna’s thoughts undulated continuously.
For some reason, as soon as she sensed a shadow, she developed an illusion of being watched and trailed by an omnipresent gaze. This awful feeling of being under surveillance from the dark was like a thorn in her side, making her slightly irritable.
She put down the file in her hand and reached for another one nearby.
Simultaneously, she also thought about the recent events in the City-State.
The Sun Heretics active in the city had already been arrested in significant numbers. It seemed that the City-State’s resolute actions had effectively deterred those heretics, or perhaps their channels of infiltration indeed had been completely destroyed. In any case, the number of Sun Heretics in the city had greatly decreased, filling up the heretics’ detention cells beneath the major churches to the brim.
And the purpose of the Sun Heretics’ activities in the City-State had already been uncovered.
Searching for the “Sun Shard” that made a brief appearance eleven years ago and might still be hidden somewhere.
Sun Shard… the great fire eleven years ago…
The “illusion” that Heidi had glimpsed in the museum before.
Fenna stopped flipping through the files, as some clues that hadn’t previously caught her attention suddenly connected, becoming more prominent as she re-examined her memory of the fire.
“These events are connected… the great fire eleven years ago definitely existed…” the young Judge took a soft breath. Simultaneously, her eyes inadvertently scanned some of the text on the archives:
“…X month X day, XX district, a violent heretic worship incident, three households built altars at home, offering fresh blood and prayers to some unknown evil entity never recorded before, causing widespread panic and nightmares among nearby residents. The sacrifice ceremony was later denounced and destroyed, but the evidence left at the scene could not be tied to any known Evil God or malevolent spirit…
“Theoretically, that sacrifice ceremony should have been ineffective, likely a blind attempt by ignorant fools for personal desire. However, the collective panic and nightmares of the local residents indeed occurred. Subsequent investigations confirmed that the region had indeed been affected by Transcendent forces…”
