Chapter 459: Chapter 460: Secret Construction Chapter 459: Chapter 460: Secret Construction A gradually approaching aura suddenly interrupted the current topic.
Agatha imdiately withdrew her fingers from the mirror. “Soone is coming, it’s a servant.”
“I understand, I won’t scare him,” the voice in the mirror directly entered her mind. “I am right beside you, and when you search carefully, you will find .”
Agatha nodded, but just as the “her” in the mirror was about to leave, she seed to suddenly think of sothing, and subconsciously asked, “Are you… cold over there?”
“…I am not cold now.”
The voice faded in her mind, and the feeling of being watched gradually dissipated. The reflection of another Agatha in the mirror returned to a normal image—her eyes covered with black cloth, dressed in the robe of a female priest, standing quietly in front of the mirror.
Agatha hesitated for a mont, tentatively reaching out to the mirror, touching only the cold glass—it even made one wonder if everything that had just happened was rely an illusion.
Almost at the sa ti, she heard footsteps already at the door, accompanied by a gentle knock, “Archbishop, are you inside?”
The old subordinates among the Guardians still habitually called her “Gatekeeper,” while the clerical clergy in the church had started to call her “Archbishop.”
Agatha composed her expression and nonchalantly turned around, “I am here, co in.”
The door opened, and a church high-ranking servant in a gray robe appeared at the door, saluting Agatha respectfully, “Archbishop, the city hall has sent an urgent ssage, asking you to go to the southern port imdiately—General Tyrion is already waiting for you there.”
“City Hall? They want to go to the southern port?” Agatha unconsciously furrowed her brow, feeling that this ssage was sowhat unusual, “Did they explain what it’s about?”
“No, they said it’s an urgent situation and not suitable for public disclosure,” the high-ranking servant hesitated in his tone, “However… General Tyrion sent a ssage, he said… ‘The master of fire might be interested.'”
Agatha’s expression subtly changed.
“I understand, prepare the vehicle, I will depart imdiately.”
Not long after, Agatha was already aboard a steam vehicle heading to the southern port. Considering the ssage Tyrion had sent, she did not bring any servants but went alone.
On the way to the port area, her mind was filled with endless speculations.
What exactly had happened? What could cause such a reaction from General Tyrion? In the past great war, the southern port was once occupied by the counterfeit monsters, and the cleanup was still ongoing… Could it be that they had found sothing among those ruins? Was it a desecrated sacred object left by the annihilating sect, or so suspicious “samples” after the counterfeit monsters had receded?
Regardless of which possibility, it seed unlikely to prompt such a reaction from General Tyrion.
With these distracting and sowhat vexing thoughts, Agatha rapidly passed through the eerily deserted streets under martial law, through multiple checkpoints and stations, arriving at the fully locked-down southern port area.
The City-State Guards’ soldiers manned every intersection, fully ard church guardians patrolled and inspected heavily damaged buildings, marking contaminated areas awaiting treatnt, priests collected samples in these contaminated zones, and occasionally, one could see students of civil engineering, dressed in heavy protective gear, moving through the buildings under the guidance of their instructors—they were here today to inspect the condition of important port facilities and prepare for later repairs.
The vehicle ca to a halt on an open space at the edge of the security zone, and Agatha, led by two soldiers, walked through various busy “work sites” toward a relatively secluded direction within the port area.
They finally stopped in front of a large building that looked like a warehouse.
“We can only bring you here,” the two guiding soldiers turned around, slightly apologetically speaking to Agatha, “We don’t know the specifics of what’s down there—the General will explain to you.”
Down there?
Agatha keenly noticed this phrasing, but asked nothing, simply nodding gently to thank the two soldiers, then stepped towards the warehouse that seed to have been sealed for a long ti, its exterior still bearing scars of war.
The guards at the warehouse entrance weren’t soldiers from the City-State Guards, but a squad of undead sailors.
In Agatha’s eyes, living humans were warm and emitted a faint glow, clear figures, while the undead were hollow, pale shells, their outlines blurred and lifting with smoke reminiscent of bone ash—after realizing that the entire warehouse was guarded by the undead, Agatha further realized that the situation here was anything but ordinary.
Because, compared to the City-State Guards, General Tyrion evidently trusted his undead legion more.
“Madam,” an undead guarding the door approached her; his upper body and lower body had beco separated, missing nearly one-quarter of his torso, connected only by so disarrayed floating cloth strips. His upper body was clad in a jacket symbolic of a Frost soldier but adorned on the sleeve with an emblem representing the Queen’s Guard—the undead sailor ca before Agatha and, despite his horrific appearance, perford an impeccably standard military salute, “After entering, soone will lead you to the elevator. The General is already waiting for you in the underground facility.”
Agatha nodded. She had already determined that unless she went to the scene herself, it was unlikely that anyone would reveal what exactly was underneath along the way.
After she entered the warehouse, she t another team of undead sailors who led her to an elevator, apparently ‘dug’ out from behind a large stack of disguised wall panels hidden in a corner of the warehouse.
Then she boarded the elevator, descending along with the iron cage, taking several minutes to reach a deeply buried underground facility which hadn’t appeared in any official records.
Stepping out of the lift, in a dim, chaotic vision, she “saw” a spacious hall where remnants of “mud” left after the fake invasion receded were visible everywhere. Undead sailors were cleaning up, while a tall figure stood at the end of the hall, guarding a large door.
It was General Tyrion—the new Governor of Frost City-State.
Agatha walked toward that figure.
“Oh, Miss Agatha, you have finally arrived,” Tyrion greeted her actively, “I thought you would co here directly from the central district of the upper city with the wind as the rumors suggested…”
“I prefer to travel on Grey Wind—but not so much that I’d run here from halfway across the city,” Agatha said casually, then lifted her head, her gaze falling on the door behind Tyrion, “What exactly is the situation here? The underground at South Port… why is there such a facility?”
“You are surprised, everyone is surprised—this facility doesn’t exist in any official records. If it weren’t for the cleanup of the ruins here, we really couldn’t have found this place,” Tyrion shook his head, “Guess, what did we discover in this hidden large-scale facility?”
“Stop beating around the bush, General,” Agatha sighed, and in the position of her eyes covered by black cloth, a flicker of eerie green light flashed, “There are no outsiders here.”
Tyrion smiled, then his expression finally beca serious as he slightly stepped aside, “See for yourself, it’s right behind this door.”
Agatha turned her “sight” toward the door.
Bloodstains and bullet hole indentations left from battles were still faintly visible on the door, evidently, an unknown battle had also occurred deep within this unknown facility during the previous defense battle of Frost.
Now, both the invaders and the guardians had perished in that battle.
She extended her hand, gently exerting force, and slowly pushed open the heavy door.
The locking chanism of the door had been damaged, and the thick alloy doors opened to either side with squeaking and creaking noises, revealing a more spacious space illuminated by gas lamps and electric lights.
The salty scent of seawater also made its way into her nostrils.
Standing at the entrance of the hall, Agatha “watched” the massive elliptical do-shaped machine fixed between sturdy beams that appeared in her vision.
Below the massive machine at the end of a long slide was the source of the seawater scent—clearly a water channel leading directly to the sea.
After standing in astonishnt for a while, Agatha finally broke the silence, “This is…”
“It’s a deep-sea subrsible, madam,” Tyrion exhaled softly, his tone carrying an indescribably complex emotion, “Manufactured based on the blueprints of the last generation of deep-sea subrsibles and incorporating many newer technologies, it’s much more advanced than what we’ve used in the past…”
Her guess confird, Agatha couldn’t help but take a breath and then suddenly turned around, “Who built this?”
“It might have been Governor Winston, or perhaps even several of the previous governors—we haven’t found detailed construction and approval records, so we can’t confirm who exactly initiated the original construction orders,” Tyrion spoke slowly, “Based solely on the limited information we’ve found so far, this facility has been secretly operational up until at least two months ago.”
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