Chapter 199: Chapter 203: Both Sides of the Curtain
The torrential rain poured down, the entire City-State was enveloped in an unprecedented downpour.
It was as if the sea had overturned, endless abysses gazing down from the sky onto the earth, as though the world had plunged into The Abyss, with pitch-black clouds hanging heavy like iron above, endless rains scourging the ancient bell towers, skyscrapers, and fortifications of City-State, and moreover, continuous surges of waves streaming from the sea as if to form some sort of siege, encapsulating the entire City-State from all directions.
Even the dullest of individuals could sense an eerie atmosphere from this abnormal downpour, leading citizens to flee back to their homes in panic; every door and window was tightly shut, the street’s homeless rushed into the nearest Shelters or relief centers, and those less fortunate scurried into sewer entrances or pipe interchange stations—places that at least had gas lamps and sacred steam to provide a minimal sense of security on this deluge-stricken day.
Heidi reached the plaza of the Storm Cathedral amidst this violent storm—perhaps still under the goddess’s protection, the rainfall around the cathedral was slightly lesser than everywhere else, but this minor reduction in rain only intensified Heidi’s worries.
The lighter rain at the cathedral compared to other places was evidence that this storm was indeed connected to Transcendent powers.
The cathedral’s guards opened the grand doors, and Heidi rushed out of her car and into the sacred triple-pointed archway; the few steps took soaked her to the bone with icy rainwater.
However, she no longer cared about these things because the moment she entered the cathedral, she felt the agitated atmosphere around her, a spiritual warning, a reminder that at the center of this place a ghostly “conflict” was gradually unfolding.
A silent monk received her and, upon her insistent request, notified Bishop Valentin who was praying in the main hall of the Sanctuary. Amidst anxiety and unrest, Heidi waited for three minutes and finally saw the venerable old man appear before her.
She noticed that the bishop was dressed in full ceremonial garb, a heavy triple-tiered crown neatly placed on his head, his hand holding a long Holy Staff, and at his waist, hung the “Storm Codex” adorned with silver and gems.
This was not attire for ordinary days but that reserved for extremely significant ceremonies, these heavy and splendid decorations being a burden enough to tire a robust adult while walking. Yet, Valentin advanced with steady and imposing steps, and his eyes seemed to conjure thunderstorms, his aura transcendent and full of Holiness—these sacred objects momentarily stripped the old man of his mortal identity, transforming him into some symbolic shell as he approached Heidi with a grave expression to face the “psychologist” who visited the cathedral amidst the harsh weather, “Child, what has happened?”
“I…I need Shelter, the highest level of Shelter!” Heidi immediately responded, remembering her father’s particularly serious reminder just before he left, and said with a solemn expression, “I need the entire Storm Cathedral on alert, to protect me—the child of City-State’s most distinguished historian.”
“The most distinguished historian of City-State…” Bishop Valentin quietly watched Heidi’s eyes, his gaze seemingly flashing with lightning, after which he slightly closed his eyes and gently nodded, “I have received your request, child. The Cathedral will provide Shelter, you are safe now.”
“Thank you so much,” Heidi deeply inhaled, her eyes not leaving the old man once she saw Valentin’s attire, she knew the Cathedral had seemingly entered a “pre-battle state” before her arrival, “May I ask… what exactly has happened?”
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“It’s war,” Valentin stated calmly, “Someone has waged war on City-State—a storm not blessed by the goddess has descended on City-State, that was the signal of war beginning. But it wasn’t until your arrival that I finally knew who the opponent was.”
“War?!” Heidi was utterly stunned, “Who is the enemy? Where are they?”
Valentin quietly watched Heidi, and after a long pause, softly said, “It’s City-State—
“A City-State that has been obliterated from history.”
A thunderclap exploded, shaking the entire cathedral violently. Heidi jumped in fright, lifting her head to look at the clattering glass windows and the heavy chandeliers swaying overhead. Amidst this shaking and swinging, she suddenly felt a faint tremor—different from the thunderclaps.
It was the roar of numerous steam-powered walkers assembling in the plaza, and the rumble of the cathedral’s steam tanks rolling out from the garages.
In terror, Heidi turned her head to look at the bishop standing solemnly before a statue of the goddess, and she hurriedly asked, “Are the enemies coming?!”
“The enemies have already arrived,” Valentin murmured, his whispers still distinct amidst the continuous thunderclaps, “They arrived years ago…”
…
With a thunderous crash, the longsword smashed down, scattering the obstructive debris like dust, and Fenna wielding a sword stepped over a section of collapsed roadway to see the buildings in front collapsing like wax figures in fire, the hot and heavy ash blanketing the road like snow, with remnants ofembers dancing and scattering amongst the ash and rubble. A suspicious humanoid figure wriggled slowly within those hot ashes, presenting an eerie and miserable sight to behold.
Fenna restrained herself from focusing too much on those writhing humanoid ashes.
She knew they were all citizens of City-State, people she was familiar with, protected, and loved; they died in this fire that would burn the entire City-State, no one from the entire City-State was spared.
In this part of history, they had perished, yet were transformed by unquenchable flames into these horrifying and pitiful phantasms.
These scenes disturbed her emotions and judgment.
The young Judge pressed her dry, pale lips, feeling her respiratory tract gradually burn in the ash-filled air, sensing her strength waning and reminded herself once more—
This never happened, nor would it ever happen.
She looked up and gazed toward the end of the street.
Between the writhing ashes and leaping sparks, a ghostly green flame occasionally flashed by—an imprint left in this erroneous history by a fearsome Ghost Captain. The stance of the Ghost Captain in this event was bizarre and unclear. Fenna could not see through the opponent’s true purpose at all. She only knew that the opponent’s power had somehow blended into the background and was spreading everywhere in the destroyed Prand, subtly opposing the force that twisted history.
At the end of her sight was the destination of her journey, one of the “targets” she had set for herself in this destroyed Prand.
A small chapel, still maintaining its main structure despite the fire, stood quietly at the end of the street.
She had walked through almost half the City-State to get to this small chapel in the sixth district.
Strictly speaking, she had fought her way through almost half the City-State.
Holding her sword, Fenna moved past all obstacles. The chapel door had already collapsed, revealing a dimly lit hall that now appeared before her.
The hall no longer had the warm, bright lights, nor the neat and sacred prayer altar, nor the calm, praying young nuns.
Fenna directly bypassed this ruin and went to the back of the main hall, where she found the tilted staircase leading underground.
A dark wooden door stood quietly at the end of the staircase.
Fenna sighed gently, easing the pain and fatigue in her joints all over her body, then descended the stairs—
The rotating machine gun she had previously dismantled from the treadmill had already broken and been discarded along the way. Now, all she had was the massive, loyal sword that had been with her for many years.
With the sword in hand, she approached the door and gently pushed it.
The door was locked, but only with a latch; it wasn’t barricaded from the inside.
Faintly, she could still sense the fluctuating air and hear noises from behind the door.
With force in her hand, the fragile lock did not last more than half a second before breaking with a metallic tearing sound. With that, Fenna pushed open the great door of the Underground Sanctuary.
A startled and tense young voice came from beyond the door, “Don’t open the door!!”
Simultaneously with this voice, a vague noise seemed intertwined within it.
“Your junior,” Fenna pushed the door open, her sword scraping and sparking against the ground as she entered, the stubborn lantern at her waist still emitting light, illuminating the already dark Underground Sanctuary. “Your sister in arms.”
The sanctuary was lit by a faint light.
A nun with a long sword stood cautiously underneath a statue of a goddess, fully alert and watching Fenna as she entered—she was wearing an old-fashioned nun’s robe from 1885, and her face was still young.
She was about the same age as Fenna when she fell.
Fenna looked at the fully alert nun across from her and sighed softly.
As she had imagined, only within this corrupted, twisted veil could she step into this sealed Underground Sanctuary before the nun’s death—the brief moment before the nun’s death was part of the contamination in history.
The small chapel in the sixth district was the first point of distortion.
The young Judge had finally investigated the most crucial information, but… how should she report all this?
“Sister?” The long-sword-bearing nun adjusted to the sudden light, and only now seemed to realize that all the lights in the Underground Sanctuary had gone out, and that she had been standing in darkness without knowing when it happened. Something seemed to be stirring in the dark below her feet; she lifted her head, looked at the tall female figure in the faint light, and finally discerned the emblem of the Storm Cathedral on the opponent’s armor and sword. “Are you from the Cathedral? Leave quickly! The contamination here is already out of control, while I still have…”
Fenna shook her head, moving forward slowly, “I’m here to help you.”