Both Vanna and Valentine were taken aback by the unexpected turn of events. Pope Helena’s “judgnt” seed less like a solemn religious decree and more like a calculated step towards a predetermined outco—the conversation they just had appeared to be nothing more than a formality.
Vanna, the inquisitor, found it hard to accept the hasty “judgnt,” and Valentine was struggling with it as well. They both began, “Your Holiness…”
“It’s alright, it’s alright. There’s no issue. Life is full of ups and downs, much like storms being the most unpredictable forces,” Helena waved her hand, interrupting Vanna and Valentine. “And don’t succumb to despair too easily, Saint Vanna—being relieved of your duties as an inquisitor is not necessarily a punishnt. It’s simply that you’re not suited for this role right now. Maybe… the storm has other plans for you?”
Vanna hesitated, sensing a hidden aning in Helena’s words. But before she could inquire further, she saw the Pope shake her head.
“That’s enough for now. I need to see so things for myself before I can make a decision,” Helena said nonchalantly. “Pland… it’s been many years since I last set foot on this land.”
She paused briefly.
“You two head back to the upper level first. The elevator is waiting. I will finish a prayer here. It won’t take long. We’ll et on the upper deck.”
Before they could even make sense of what was happening, Vanna and Valentine were “escorted” back into the elevator. It wasn’t until the elevator reached the top, exited the cabin, and walking down the corridor to the upper deck, that Valentine finally broke the silence in a whisper, “Vanna, how are you feeling now?”
He couldn’t think of a better way to ease the awkwardness.
Vanna stopped in her tracks.
Valentine took a step back.
“Are you seriously stepping back like that?”
“I’m afraid I am.”
“Still able to crack a joke, it seems you’re aware of the odd nature of this event,” Vanna shook her head, speaking softly. “Honestly, my first reaction was disbelief and difficulty accepting this hurried, careless ‘judgnt,’ which felt more like a cruel joke than sothing that should co from the Pope. But as I reflected on Her Holiness’s words, I can’t help but think… she might have an ulterior motive.”
Taking a deep breath, she added, “I believe I should be patient and wait for the ‘storm’s favor’ the Pope ntioned.”
“Your composure and rational thinking truly surpass those of most people. Not many would be able to remain so calm after such an event suddenly befalls them,” Valentine moved forward again, speaking as they walked. “However, I’m more concerned about sothing else right now.”
Vanna furrowed her brow, “What else?”
“To replace an inquisitor, a new one must be appointed, and the Pope herself must ‘test’ and appoint soone to such an important position as a city-state inquisitor. You should be well aware of this process,” Valentine said slowly. “But Her Holiness didn’t ntion this at all. This ‘necessary matter’ should have been announced at the sa ti, or even earlier, when the dismissal was made.”
Vanna unconsciously furrowed her brow but remained silent for a mont. Valentine continued, “Furthermore, she chose to announce your dismissal in an unknown secret chamber. According to the doctrine, the Pope’s secrets shared in the secret chamber must not be disclosed to others, no matter the content of the secret. This is a sort of ‘safety code’.”
Vanna had to concede that her younger self was not as well-versed in the Storm Codex as Bishop Valentine, a senior clergyman. She hadn’t considered these crucial points at the ti!
“Do you an…”
“Your dismissal will remain unknown to anyone,” Valentine said calmly, looking into Vanna’s eyes, “and there won’t be a new inquisitor to assu your responsibilities.”
Vanna paused, furrowing her brow slightly, “Then how can I continue to carry out my duties in Pland?”
“I don’t know,” Valentine said softly. He looked up, gazing towards the corridor’s exit. After a mont of contemplation, he continued, “But I suspect that you might not need to continue fulfilling your duties in Pland for much longer.”
…
In the vast expanse, Pope Helena stood silently amidst the dim flas. After an indeterminable amount of ti, she finally raised her head and gazed into the darkness ahead.
This was the bottom of the Pilgrimage Ark, an area rarely visited or even known to ordinary people. She referred to this place as “the belly of the beast,” which, in a way, wasn’t an inaccurate description.
Helena took a step forward, passing the blazing basins, and reached a spot previously untouched by the flas.
Flas spread with each of her steps, gradually illuminating the entire dark space and unveiling the previously hidden objects.
The intertwined structures on the ground, the massive tumor-like formations or nerve nodes suspended from the high do, the nerve fibers and vascular pillars dangling from the do, and the colossal, pale supports resembling skeletons.
Originally concealed in the darkness, these things were now exposed to Helena as the flas spread.
She finally halted in front of an enormous “pillar.”
This pillar was composed of a multitude of intricate, intertwined structures. Its surface was uneven, with nurous nerve channels and vascular systems wrapped around it like bas-relief. Deep within the nerve systems, one could barely discern the intricate tal wires and gleaming silver needles seemingly extending from above.
At the top of this pillar, on the dim do, even more densely clustered hanging organs could be seen, their surfaces covered in grooves, resembling… a brain.
Helena stared at the pillar for an extended period before reaching out and gently touching the grooves ford by the nerve fibers.
“The Academy of Truth… truly remarkable technology,” she whispered in admiration, “Who would have thought that the deceased Leviathan could ‘resurrect’ in this manner…”
A deep rumble suddenly erged from the pillar as her words trailed off. Then, a raspy, ancient voice resonated from an unknown structure, “First of all, I was never truly dead, and secondly, I don’t believe I’m ‘alive’ now either. Using life and death to describe the Leviathan is a rather imprecise way of speaking, young lady.”
“…I thought you were asleep.”
“I do sleep most of the ti, but today you prayed to Queen Gomona with particular solemnity and brought a stranger here, so I thought I should be awake.”
Helena’s mouth seed to twitch, “…Did you witness a satisfying scene then?”
“I think you’re being quite unkind,” the raspy, ancient voice replied, “She’s perford quite well, hasn’t she? No one in the comprehensive evaluations of the inquisitors from all the major city-states can surpass her, and you dismissed her just like that, not to ntion the reason being wavering faith… We all know that as long as one can continue to perform their duties, this reason is the least important.”
“It’s the Storm Ruler’s arrangent,” Helena said indifferently.
The raspy, ancient voice hesitated noticeably before speaking again, “…Oh, well, then I have no objection.”
Helena shook her head helplessly, “I thought you’d at least inquire a little more.”
But this ti, the raspy, ancient voice did not respond at all.
He had fallen asleep.
…
Cutting through the ocean waves with relative ease, the Sea Mist had mostly healed itself and had engaged its powers by creating a thin layer of fog around the ship.
At the mont, Tyrian stood at the bow gazing out over the open sea ahead.
For so reason, he felt an inexplicable sense of unease.
At first, he thought it was the aftermath of the “fatherly injury he suffered” at Pland. The pressure from the incident must’ve built up from the several encounters, but as he moved further away from that Pearl of the Sea, the unease only got worse and didn’t diminish in the slightest.
This irritated him.
It seed as if sothing was about to happen, or… had already happened, and this matter was very likely related to him.
He trusted his intuition as a transcendent in this regard.
Tyrian took a deep breath, placed his hand on the railing in front of him, and frowned in thought.
Just then, as if to confirm his growing unease, hurried footsteps suddenly ca from behind.
Tyrian turned abruptly and saw his First Mate Aiden approaching him.
The usually composed first mate wore a look of tension on his face.
Tyrian imdiately furrowed his brow, “What happened?”
“Just now, the small chapel received a psychic ssage from the ho port. There’s been an incident in the seas near Frost…”
“Near Frost?” Tyrian felt his heart skip a beat and asked, “What’s going on?”
“…An ancient diving device suddenly appeared in the waters near Frost,” Aiden said, unable to help but take a breath, “It’s Subrsible Number Three’—the eighth one.”
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