Chapter 101: Chapter 105 After the Dissolution of the Assembly
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Anomalous Item 099-Doll.
This was the only content on the parchnt, the only piece of information Fenna had brought back after returning from the Tomb of the Naless King.
At the sight of those few scribbled letters, Fenna’s expression beca sowhat blank. She could feel that Bishop Valentin, standing at her side, along with several other figures, was similarly plunged into astonishnt. After a brief silence, one of the saints’ dark shadows finally spoke up with a heavy voice, “An existing ‘anomaly’ has been altered out of thin air… and it happened beyond the gaze of the civilized world.”
“It has fallen into the hands of Holoss,” another saint nodded in agreent, “Perhaps that Ghost Ship captain did sothing…”
“But what kind of change could have produced such a result?” The saint who had spoken earlier appeared worried. “The difference between a ‘Doll Coffin’ and a ‘Doll’ isn’t just a few letters… and this change has directly touched the Tomb of the Naless King, even causing the Tomb Guardian to suddenly summon listeners to enter the tomb chamber to convey this piece of information…”
The saints were discussing seriously in hushed tones, their gazes eventually converging back on Fenna. She had by now gradually recovered and, with the help of Bishop Valentin, stood up, looking at the remaining scrap of parchnt in her hand, “…I don’t rember at all what happened in the tomb chamber, only that I was walking through the tomb corridor.”
“It’s very common to forget experiences in the tomb chamber; it’s your psyche protecting itself. That’s why listeners need the parchnt and feather pen provided by the Tomb Guardian to record useful information,” Bishop Valentin slowly explained. “But for your parchnt to be left with only these few words… that’s rather odd.”
Fenna stared blankly at her own hands for a long while before muttering hesitantly, “Was it who tore up the parchnt…”
“In theory, it could only be you,” Bishop Valentin looked at her. “There would be no one else in the tomb. The Tomb Guardian never interferes with the communication between listeners and the master of the tomb chamber, and the tomb chamber master would do no more than convey a ssage.”
Fenna’s heart was filled with confusion, but before she could say more, a deep and solemn female voice suddenly ca from the edge of the square, interrupting the saints’ exchange, “The mont to end the gathering is near.”
The saints imdiately stood erect and looked toward the direction of the voice. Fenna quickly composed herself and looked toward the figure at the far end of the square who had uttered the sound—a woman in what seed to be regal attire, stood there in silence, watching the gathering of saints.
The woman’s silhouette had no attendants by her side. Alone, she exuded sufficient dignity and presence. Her silhouette, like the other “souls,” was also a black shadow, but her shadow was clearer and more solid than anyone else’s, solid enough that one could vaguely make out the contours of her face, identifying her as a woman of grace and elegance.
Fenna bowed slightly to the figure with reverence.
That was the leader of the Deep Sea Church, the Storm Goddess Gomona’s proxy in the mortal realm, the Pontiff of the Storm Cathedral. This Transcendent, blessed by the divine, was so powerful that her soul had undergone a transformation, and she could even present a complete human appearance in this gathering of Spiritual Energy.
Bear in mind that even the “saints,” whose powers far exceed those of ordinary Transcendents, could barely maintain a human outline in this council.
Fenna felt the Pontiff’s gaze on her.
“You have done well, Saint Fenna,” the Pontiff nodded gently, her voice authoritative yet kind, alleviating Fenna’s slightly despondent mood, “Listeners bringing back any amount of information from the tomb chamber is always uncontrollable. And often, the information listeners bring back isn’t limited to what is written on the parchnt.”
“Are you suggesting that…” Fenna looked up curiously, boldly asking.
“The less content left on the parchnt, the more dangerous the ssage from the tomb chamber master, it’s your spiritual warning driving you. It made you destroy the words you had written in the tomb chamber to prevent those dangerous truths from being revealed… Having this piece of information is enough. It’s sufficient for the Storm Cathedral to use as a reference when plotting our future course, and to offer special prayers to our Lord for guidance.”
Fenna listened intently to the Pontiff’s words; her mind gradually settled.
She knew this was not just empty comfort—the Pontiff wouldn’t do sothing aningless. If her Eminence said so, it ant that the Goddess had, to a certain extent, approved of this matter.
She had brought back information of sufficient value from the Tomb of the Naless King.
“Disperse for now,” the graceful lady said softly, “This gathering is concluded. The Storm Cathedral will carefully evaluate the signal conveyed by Anomalous Item 004—should the need arise, I will issue a decree or once again convene the saints.”
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Fenna quickly refocused her mind and bowed respectfully in the direction of the Pope before her figure gradually dissipated in this vast and chaotic space. The other saints’ figures followed closely after, one silhouette after another vanishing from the square. In the blink of an eye, silence returned to the place.
In the vast assembly area, only the ancient and cracked stone bricks, pillars supporting the chaotic firmant, and the spiritual projection of the Storm Pope Helena remained.
This Pope, blessed by Gomona, had not left. After dismissing the assembly, she stood quietly in the square, motionless, staring at the empty space in the middle of the square.
After an indeterminate amount of ti, Helena suddenly turned her head to look not far from her side—where the air began to ripple like water waves. In an instant, a tall and thin figure appeared in her sight.
The tall and lean figure seed to be dressed in robes, and just like Helena, his features were faintly discernible—it was a stern and elderly male.
Following this, another figure appeared beside the tall and elderly man, a short and chubby old man, with a recognizable face and a friendly smile.
“Banster,” Helena first nodded to the tall and solemn old man, and then turned to the short and chubby old man with a friendly smile, “Rune—what, you all have so free ti? Aren’t the death faction and the Academy of Truth supposed to patrol the borders?”
“The border has been stable recently, with reliable surveillance left in place,” said Banster, the tall and elderly man, succinctly.
“We’ve temporarily handed over the task of patrolling the borders to trustworthy people,” the short, chubby old man called Rune added, nodding, “We primarily ca to check on your situation… It looks like the civilized world is not so peaceful.”
“The last ti a situation like this occurred at a tomb, it was also during the watch of the Deep Sea Church,” Banster said expressionlessly, “Was it a hundred years ago?”
“Feigning ignorance,” Helena said calmly, “Of course, it was a hundred years ago—that was when I entered the tomb as a listener. I wasn’t the Helmsman of the Storm Cathedral back then, I rember it very clearly.”
“Yes, you went in last ti; I also rember it very well,” Rune, the short and chubby old man, stroked his beard, reflecting with so emotion, “You were thrown out of the tomb as soon as you entered, disoriented for a long ti before regaining clarity. And just like that young lady today, the parchnt you brought into the tomb was left with only a small scrap of paper with a few hastily scribbled letters… Helena, do you still rember the ssage you brought from the tomb a century ago?”
The Helmsman of the Storm Cathedral fell silent for a mont before speaking softly, “I rember very clearly—’Vision 005-Holoss’.”
Rune nodded gently, “Exactly, you were the first to bring back the news that Holoss had turned into a vision… And the few letters you brought back were confird just a month later. The phantom of the Holoss swept past the edge of the death faction’s grand graveyard, and poor Banster watched helplessly as his newly built and not yet inaugurated escort ship was swallowed whole, leaving nothing but the ribbon used for the cutting ceremony…”
The leader of the death faction, Pope Banster, looked expressionlessly at Rune.
Helena, as though she hadn’t heard Rune’s last few words, remained lost in thought. After a long while, she slowly began, “Whether it’s ‘dolls’ or ‘doll coffins,’ they are just an ‘anomaly’ ranked close to the hundredth place, incomparable to the fifth-ranked vision.”
“There is no comparison, but you also know, the key issue isn’t the information left on the paper—it’s those parts that couldn’t be left behind,” Rune said, his expression gradually becoming serious, “It’s those truths that could verge on breaking the spirit of a saint, forcing an instinctive drive to destroy and bury them in the tomb… The na changed from Doll Coffin to Doll for Anomaly 099, which in itself isn’t much, but it’s the related yet hidden information that is truly fatal…”
“The only speculation now is that it’s related to that Ghost Ship,” Helena said, “But a few days ago, when I sought enlightennt from the Lord…”
She suddenly stopped, then shook her head as if deciding not to continue the topic.
“Why didn’t Frem co?” she looked at the two figures in front of her, “Doesn’t he always enjoy a spectacle?”
“Frem and his Fire Transmitter Church are busy with sothing very important,” Rune said with a smile, “It wouldn’t do for all the leaders of the four orthodox churches to gather here for the excitent…”
“Sothing very important?” Helena frowned, “What is he doing?”
“Patrolling the borders,” Banster stated tersely.
Helena: “…”
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