Chapter 411: Chapter 415: Down the Well Chapter 411: Chapter 415: Down the Well Agatha cradled the small fla in her hands and took another step, heading deeper into the second waterway.
In fact, she had lost all sense of ti and even her perception of her surroundings beca hazy. She could no longer clearly rember how long she had trudged through this damp and cold place, how many monsters she had dispatched, or how many wounds she had acquired in the process—there was a ti when she even forgot her own na and why she was in this sewer.
But when the green fla leapt in her palm, she always found her reason again and held onto that one ultimate mission firmly—
Bring the fla, deliver it into the lairs of the heretics.
A chill wind blew from the dark corridor ahead, seemingly carrying layers of muttering and snarling. Agatha’s body swayed slightly, and sensing the presence of evil in the wind, she carefully hid the fla in the tattered inner layers of her black garnts.
She had to conceal it well, to prevent those heretics from detecting its presence.
She lifted her head, peering into the depths of the darkness, where countless indistinct shadows undulated within the wind. The gas lamps on the corridor walls had dimd until they were no more than the faint glow of fireflies. Filthy black sludge seeped bit by bit from the ceilings and pipe grates around her, writhing together, taking shape, and issuing nauseating murmurs.
Agatha raised her staff that, like herself, was covered in scars. For so reason, she felt power resurge within her, the annoying sense of fatigue having quietly vanished.
She planted her staff heavily on the ground, her gaze locked on the sacrilegious filth surging in the darkness. The end of her staff struck the floor, resonating with a sound like a tolling bell—
“Thud—”
The elevator creaked and groaned as the cage shakily descended into the depths of the mine. The guard warriors on duty around the edge of the cage suddenly looked up, one of them puzzledly saying to his companion, “Did you just hear sothing?”
“It sounded like a ‘thud’,” another guard said with trepidation, then instinctively turned his head, glancing at the Gatekeeper standing in the center of the cage, “like… like…”
It was like the sound the Gatekeeper made with her staff to signify the comncent of the heretic purification—this is what he wanted to say but didn’t.
Because the Gatekeeper was right there, resting with her eyes closed.
It seed that Agatha heard the conversation of her subordinates and opened her eyes. She looked around silently and approached the edge of the cage, enclosed by railings, to look down.
“Gatekeeper,” the guard who had spoken earlier approached, hesitantly saying, “There seed to be so sound coming from below. Could there be soone else operating in the mine?”
“It’s only us here,” Agatha didn’t turn back, “Don’t mind the sound just now.”
The subordinate withdrew for the mont, but Agatha still stared at the boundless and hazy darkness below.
This was the Boiling Gold Mine Shaft, the largest vertical passage leading to the lower excavation area, and even deep within this mountain, the fog… was still omnipresent.
Normally, fog couldn’t possibly pervade such a place, but this strange mist was clearly the result of Transcendent forces. It seed almost sentient as it insidiously spread everywhere, and the deeper into the ground and dimr the light, the more the fog filled the air as if appearing from nothingness.
The mine elevator creaked and groaned constantly, descending through this blurred fog, with the occasional dim glow of lights moving upward—those were the gas lamps and electric lights set in the shaft, which appeared so feeble that when seen through the fog, they seed no larger than the light of fireflies.
Regardless, the mine’s machinery was evidently still operational—the ventilation system, power pipes, lighting system, lifting devices… all were running normally.
Using machinery had to be done with extra care in tis like these. Agatha had specially sent priests to inspect the condition of the elevator before deciding to use it—the safer option would have been to use the ergency passage’s stairwell and ramps for descent, but that was far too ti-consuming and exhausting.
“Let’s just hope this thing doesn’t break on the way up,” a young guard muttered under his breath, “The runaway freight cage and track that crashed on the hillside earlier was quite morable.”
“Why can’t you say sothing pleasant at a ti like this?” another older guard imdiately frowned, “We’re all on the elevator here—if you’re really that nervous, you might as well jump down, there’ll be no malfunction during free fall.”
“No, no, I was just saying. This thing looks sturdy enough, definitely won’t have any issues…”
At this point, another conversation breached the guards’ discussion, as a nun with ear-length short hair joined in, “However, I heard that in the Plunder City-State far away, there’s a female Judge who could leap from a cliff onto a stone beach to slay ‘Offspring’, surely she’d be fine if she jumped down from here…”
The guards fell silent for two seconds, then said in unison, “… Is she even human?!”
“I just heard it…”
The warriors chatted among themselves, which didn’t affect their actions later but served to ease the tension from the continual descent into darkness—guards were human, too, and needed to soothe their nerves.
Agatha stood with her back to them, neither joining nor stopping her subordinates—she simply listened quietly with a faint, almost imperceptible smile on her face.
Contrary to many people’s impressions, the usually solemn and steady gatekeeper was actually quite gentle and indulgent towards her subordinates.
It was at that mont that the tension of the steel cables and the friction noise of the braking system echoed from all around, interrupting the exchange among the keepers.
The elevator cage began to slow down and gradually stopped at a spacious and chilly locale.
“This is the first platform traffic point,” Agatha surveyed her surroundings, spotting the nearest support structures, lighting systems, and the slightly chaotic mining equipnt on the nearby ground—the hastily evacuated miners evidently hadn’t managed to take everything with them; traces of the hurried departure were everywhere, “Where is the traffic map?”
“Right here,” a priest imdiately stepped forward, handing over the map brought from the mining bureau to the gatekeeper, “Our current location is Well Number Two.”
Agatha took the map, stepping out of the elevator and matching the information to her surroundings, recalling the intelligence obtained from mining managers before descending into the mine: “The underground track vehicles leading to the digging area have ceased operation. To get to the digging area, we must walk following the red line markers, and one hundred and fifty ters out, there will be a ramp leading to the mining operation face.”
She looked up, confirming the information with a glance around.
“First check the area, establish a safe point, then we can move deeper.”
Her subordinates got to work, protectors going to secure the various transportation checkpoints, priests and nuns began to purify the area around the elevator and arrange the altar and Sacred Relic.
Agatha, however, wandered about aimlessly.
She stopped in front of an overturned transport box that hadn’t been taken away in ti.
The box was made of iron, lined with a tin partition, the lid was not fastened and had opened upon falling over, revealing its contents—chunks of ore.
The ore glimred with a dim tallic luster; on the dark outer shell, there were pale golden vein-like patterns.
“These should be inspection samples prepared to be taken up with the shift workers,” a middle-aged guardian approached her with an experienced guess.
Since the mission included scouting the mine, about half of Agatha’s subordinates were guardians who had long served in the Boiling Gold mining area. While not professional miners, they had so experience with the place.
“Boiling Gold ore, eh…”
Agatha’s expression turned serious as she poked at a few pieces of ore on the ground with her staff, then bent down to pick one up for a closer inspection.
After a mont, she handed the ore to the middle-aged guardian, “Check this.”
“It’s a high-quality ore, seems like it only needs simple crushing and screening to be ready for the slter, but I can’t judge the yield rate very well… that would need an expert.”
Agatha frowned, “That’s all? There’s no problem?”
“I see no issue, it’s just ore,” the guardian said frankly, then added with so perplexity, “Do you have any concerns?”
Agatha silently picked up a piece of Boiling Gold ore and studied it for a long while before speaking softly, “What I’m about to reveal is re speculation, yet it is also confidential—this is only for those involved in the operation to know, and it must be after we’ve descended.”
The guardian standing opposite her was taken aback for a second, but then his expression turned grave and serious.
Surprised, yet not panicked; caught off guard, yet not unprepared.
For every cleric qualified to accompany the gatekeeper on a mission—whether guardian, nun, or priest—had been carefully selected by the church, taken sacred oaths, and signed a contract under the watchful gaze of Bartok.
They were all acutely aware of the unique nature of their missions and knew that the issues the gatekeeper had to handle personally could be bizarre and tricky—in these ventures into darkness, anything could be confidential, one second an ordinary thing, the next it might beco a taboo that must be isolated from the civilized world, and even those involved in the operation could at any mont beco part of the “secret.”
After all, to simply “know” of certain things was to create a crack of corrosion in the realm of reality, to rely retain an “impression” in one’s mind was to cast a shadow for potential future control losses.
Agatha lifted her head, noting that the temporary altar and Sacred Relic had been placed, and a security point was established.
“Everyone, gather around—I have so matters to announce.”
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