Chapter 54: Chapter 54 Underground Sanctuary
In the end, Duncan didn’t figure out exactly what “Scions” were.
The goat-headed being was vague on this matter, and it seemed because it didn’t know the details of these ancient beings that roamed the fringes of civilization either. As for Duncan, he could only summarize a concept from the limited clues—
Scions were the products of ancient times, and they harbored hatred for the modern world. They possessed weird and dangerous powers and stayed hidden and unassuming in the dark. Except for the Scions of the Sun, other “Scions” rarely appeared in the civilized world but threatened the safety of explorers in the peripheral areas.
And among all this information, there was one particularly intriguing point:
The Scions of the Sun seemed capable of disguising themselves as humans—only the transcendents of the Church could distinguish disguised Scions of the Sun from ordinary people.
Duncan thought of the recent changes in Plunder City-State and the “Believers of the Sun” who, after staying low-key for so many years, had suddenly become active.
Behind the heretics’ high-profile activities… were they under the orders of the “Scions”? What were those ancient and weird beings plotting against Plunder City-State?
Duncan stood on the edge of the deck of Homeloss, gazing for a long time at the undulating sea below.
There were Scions in the deep sea too, ancient beings different from the Scions of the Sun, “they” threatened the safety of the long-haul fleets between City-States.
Duncan was both wary and curious about these deep-sea creatures.
He believed that although he had not dealt with these things, as long as the Homeloss still wandered the seas, sooner or later, he would encounter these weird creatures. It wouldn’t hurt to make some extra preparations in advance.
Whether gathering intelligence, further mastering his own powers, or unraveling the potential of Homeloss, he was planning for the future.
Of course, he did not fear the hidden dangers of the deep sea—after all, he had been drifting on the boat for so long. He could guess there were many mysterious things in the deep sea. The Scions were just one of the countless weird threats. Too many lice do not itch, and too many debts are not worrisome. As the captain of Homeloss, he had a lot more to be vigilant about here.
He pondered on the deck for a long time and realized that what he should worry about most was whether the “supply line” he had just recently secured would be affected—would those deep-sea Scions impact his fishing?
Though the carrier pigeon Ai Yi had the ability to transport materials, its carrying capacity and reliability were still uncertain. Moreover, Plunder City-State was an orderly place, and the supplies delivered to the ship had to be paid for, so the supply line might not be of use anytime soon.
Considering the bountiful catch from the last fishing trip still fresh in his memory, Duncan was well aware that the improved living conditions aboard the Homeloss ultimately depended on nature’s bounty.
And now those “Scions” had become a concern—they might affect nature’s bounty.
Duncan was somewhat worried; he only hoped that the ominous things in the sea wouldn’t interfere with his fishing activities.
…
The bright gas lamp shone brilliantly, dispelling the gloom of the church’s underground facilities. The deep-sea runes carved into the lengthy corridors exuded a comforting power. These runes, containing symbols of waves and coasts interlinked, seemed to sketch out an invisible gigantic net, enveloping the entire underground structure of the building in a sacred and tranquil atmosphere.
Fenna walked through the Underground Sanctuary of the church, this holy and silent place calming her somewhat agitated mind.
The Storm Goddess, commanding the most powerful forces over the Endless Sea, was not only a symbol of the ferocious “Storm.” This ancient deity also wielded the powers of tranquility and sealing.
Just as the sea has two faces, calm and storm always coexisting harmoniously, the authority of the Goddess was the same—the Underground Sanctuary of the cathedral symbolized the “Mirror of the Storm.”
In this world, many deities have dual aspects or embody such dual characteristics. The god of death also governs vitality, and the god of wisdom also holds the authority over lunacy, foolishness, and madness. Ordinary people might not fully understand this aspect, but as a high-ranking church official, Fenna was very knowledgeable about it.
She also knew that because of the dual nature of many deities, some extremely controversial and even heretical thoughts had arisen. Some scholars even believed that the entire world was dual in nature—that in some dimension, there existed a “Land of Exhaustion,” a complete mirror image of the sea and dry land. It was an endless expanse of parched earth, with sparse rivers and oases scattered within the desolation, and that land even possessed an intelligence civilization that was quite similar to the real world, reflecting its myriad creations…
These absurd speculations, built entirely on conjecture, were of course not recognized, and even Bishop Valentin of the enlightened Plunder City-State scoffed upon hearing such theories.
To use the old man’s own words, the existence of a Subspace beneath this world was already headache-inducing enough without folk theologians adding more to it, right?
Suddenly, Fenna shook her head, gathering back her uncontrolled thoughts.
In the quiet of the Underground Sanctuary, it was all too easy for a person’s thoughts to wander uncontrollably. This was due to the overly tranquil psychological suggestion brought by the “Mirror Image of the Storm,” which maximized the comfort provided by the Goddess’s Shelter, weakening the psychological barriers of mortals to their utmost. This effect was intangible yet powerful, and even a well-trained Judge like herself was not immune.
However, this special environment also had its uses.
For example, making some fervent and mad Heretics speak.
Fenna stopped at the end of the corridor of the Underground Sanctuary; here were several doors leading to various “interrogation rooms,” and in the hallway between the doors stood a silent statue of the Storm Goddess.
This statue differed from the one above in the church—the aboveground statue had open arms as if to accept the worship of all people, surrounded by an aura of infinite authority. Meanwhile, underground, the statue of the Goddess had hands clasped in front of her, serene and gentle, as if it were a girl listening attentively.
Regardless of which statue it was, both had their faces veiled in light gauze—symbolizing the inscrutability of the divine.
This depiction with hands clasped and listening was another pose of the Storm Goddess: the Girl of the Calm Sea.
She suppressed the waters below the sea level, safeguarding the tranquility of the City-State’s underground world.
Fenna bowed before the statue of the Girl of the Calm Sea, then turned to push open the door of a nearby interrogation room.
The sound of the turning door hinge broke the silence of the facility. As the door opened, a spacious yet dimly lit room appeared before Fenna.
A large table was placed in the center of the room; Ms. Heidi, dressed in a black gown, was just rising from her seat at the table, and opposite, in a chair with restraining chains, sat a Sun Heretic, quiet and still.
The heretic’s eyes were lifeless, leaning crookedly against the armrest as though both reason and strength had been drained from his body, leaving only chaos behind.
The room was still filled with the strong aroma of incense. Ms. Heidi’s medical box on the table contained an empty large syringe, wriggling thorny vines, and a golden spike that seemed to still bear traces of blood.
“Oh, Lady Fenna, your timing is impeccable,” said Ms. Heidi, turning to greet her upon hearing the door. “I have just completed a ‘treatment.’”
Fenna’s gaze swept over Ms. Heidi’s medical box, her expression as stoic as ever, “Honestly, I still find it hard to associate your set of tools with ‘treatment’…”
“This is standard equipment for a mental health physician… Okay, I admit I use them more frequently than a regular doctor might,” Ms. Heidi said, shrugging her shoulders. “But what can I do if I’m employed by the town hall and often assist the church as a ‘Hypnotist’? The ‘patients’ I deal with are never just normal patients, especially these Heretics. Rocking crystals and low-frequency swings are no match for a triple dose of ‘Midnight Elixir.’”
“…I strongly suspect the reason you always inject Heretics with a triple dose is that your giant syringe can only hold a triple dose,” Fenna made a wry comment to her familiar acquaintance before shaking her head. “But that’s not important. What matters is that you manage to pry open these people’s mouths… So tell me, what have you found?”
“A lot, and the findings are peculiar,” replied Ms. Heidi at once. “I’ve conducted deep hypnosis on several Heretics and employed some special techniques. Now I can almost confirm… these Heretics who participated in the sacrificial ritual were likely not insane from a loss of control during the ritual…”
“They didn’t go mad after the ritual went awry?” Fenna frowned immediately. Although after speaking with Bishop Valentin she knew the complexity of the case would exceed expectations, Heidi’s words still took her by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve searched through their memories and found that their thinking…or rather, their cognitive logic, was already disordered before the final failed ritual began. To be more precise, it seems like these Heretics were affected by some sort of…cognitive filter from before the start of the ritual, to the extent that in their memories… Hmm? Lady Fenna, you don’t seem too surprised?”