Deep Sea Embers Chapter 340: Sink into the spirit world
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It was quiet in the guard's hut, and a strange silence seemed to fill the air as if frozen—the old guard even had some kind of illusion, feeling as if even the altar on the desk, the candlelight, the incense smoke, and the air in the air The faint spiritual power that diffused froze for a short time.
An illusion?
The old man raised his head suspiciously, and saw the flames of the candlesticks dancing in his vision, but it seemed as if they started dancing the moment he raised his head.
He stared at the pale flame for a long time, then slowly shook his head, put his gaze back on the letter paper in front of him, and looked at the words on it with a strange mood that he had never experienced in his life.
But after reading only a few lines, he couldn't care less about the disobedience and embarrassment in his heart—the contents of this letter began to make him realize the seriousness of the matter.
The warning that the city-state is being eroded and infiltrated by the power of the deep sea, the evidence of the large-scale activities of the Annihilation Cultists, the speculation about the invasion of the real world by the Lord of the Deep, and the warning about Dagger Island.
The old guard stared at the lines on the letter in his hand, and suddenly felt that the uneasy atmosphere spreading in the city-state had finally been explained.
He didn't know if he should believe this "report" from some unnameable being, but there was no doubt about one thing—the gatekeeper must be notified at this time, and the cathedral must be notified!
Agatha bent down and carefully examined the sleeping Sen'jin lady on the sofa—the latter was still asleep, unaware that a large group of guards had gathered in the room at this time, sleeping There was even an occasional muffled, disturbed grunt.
Can still talk in her sleep, which shows that her mind was not damaged in the "attack", and the uninvited guests who entered the house before were not malicious.
Agatha's eyes swept over Galone. Miss Senjin's body can almost be described as burly - most of the Senjin people are like this, they are born with well-developed bodies, and they are like stones. Tough skin——After a simple inspection, the young gatekeeper found that the muscles on the opponent's body would tense from time to time, coupled with the vague and uneasy sleep talk he heard just now... It seems that the dream of the Senjin lady did not Not stable.
"No external injuries, no signs of mental pollution, no signs of struggle, it looks like it's just an ordinary sleep—but can't be awakened," a priest in a gray coat stood aside, reporting to Agatha what he had so far. "Considering that there is no sign of damage to the door lock, and there are signs of use in the kitchen, it is preliminarily judged that the intruder was invited into the house."
"...It may be an acquaintance, or it may be a trusted guest," Agatha muttered softly, "How is the situation on the second floor?"
"A large number of samples have been collected, and a deathbed record was found. The person who left the record should be the source of the...abnormal substances in the room," the priest nodded, "According to the other records found in the house According to clues, the person who left the record should be called 'Brown Scott, a folklorist.」
"Folklorist?" Agatha frowned, "Have you investigated the background information?"
"I have sent someone to the nearest resident management office to file, but there is no response yet."
"You take care of this lady here first," Agatha nodded, "I'll go to the second floor to check the situation."
"Yes, Your Excellency the Gatekeeper."
In the study room on the second floor, the guards had already completed the preliminary inspection of the scene and the collection of samples. When Agatha came here, her subordinates were trying to dry up the bookshelves The "mud" was cleaned out to transfer the large collection of books in the room.
In places where extraordinary out-of-control has occurred, the books left on the site are very likely to be contaminated by extraordinary forces. It is a necessary process to transfer and seal these books for research-even if doing so will "destroy the scene" possible.
Agatha's eyes fell on the dried gray-black mud.
These things... reminded her of the samples collected in Cemetery No. 3, those... strange substances suspected of being "elements".
She also saw the "dying record" mentioned by the pastor before - it was placed in the most conspicuous place on the desk.
From the very first moment she saw the record, Agatha judged that the manuscript had been processed by someone. There were obvious traces of cleaning on its surface, and the cleaning was very meticulous.
This is not something that an intruder with malicious intentions would do, but like a "professional" who investigates the incident for a legitimate purpose like myself, thinking of the lady on the first floor who fell asleep soundly, Agatha already had some preliminary guesses in her mind.
A mysterious third party, at least it doesn't look like an enemy—is it the same group of people who fought against the Oblivion Cultists in the alley outside?
If so...then this "third-party" power should be paid close attention to.
With all kinds of conjectures and inferences in her mind, Agatha's eyes slowly scanned the words on the "Death Record", and as the words soaked in determination, courage and awareness came into view, this The eyes of the gatekeeper gradually became heavy and serious.
The owner who left the record...has retained a clear consciousness and memory.
After pondering for a while, Agatha took a light breath. She solemnly put the deathbed record back on the desk, then raised the cane she carried with her in one hand, and held it on the floor with a tin cane to slow down. Slowly across.
The sound of metal and wood rubbing against each other sounded, and a pale flame burned at the end of the stick, leaving the same pale glowing trace on the floor. The sound began to change—it became low and slow, as if a thick barrier had been built invisible, isolating the surrounding space little by little.
Soon, Agatha outlined a triangular area large enough for adults to stand, and painted the rune of Bartok, the **** of death, in the triangular area, and then she stepped into the center of the triangle, a One hand put the cane beside him, and the other hand stretched out to his eye socket.
A vivid eyeball jumped out of the eye socket and landed on her palm.
In just a moment, the surroundings became quiet, and all the sounds from the real dimension were cut off from the triangle by an invisible barrier. Then, countless whispers emerged in the silence, as if there were thousands of whispers. Unseen voyeurs were gathering outside the triangle, babbling something to the gatekeeper.
Agatha raised her hand, palm up, and scanned her surroundings with her eyeballs.
Everything in the room, including the busy guards, the flying dust in the air, and the hands of the clock on the wall, fell into a stillness like solidified amber, and quickly faded into darkness in the stillness, A strange pale glow diffused in from the window, passed through the wooden boards blocking the window, and reflected the room indistinctly.
In this eerie pale stagnant time and space, only Agatha in the middle of the triangle still maintains the appearance and color of a living person. All around said calmly: "I want to talk to the dead here."
The countless irritating whispers around her suddenly weakened a lot, and Agatha turned her left hand to let her eyes look at the desk not far away.
It is the last place where the folklorist Brown Scott left his "dying records". In theory, if a soul really lived here, some of its afterglow should still be here hovering.
Even if the "mud" that can be seen everywhere in the room shows that the person in this room was probably just a "monster" condensed by extraordinary power, the "monster" obviously had human nature in its body. , Agatha was convinced after reading that record.
But beside the empty desk, she found nothing.
There is no afterglow of the soul, no projection formed by obsession, and even a little flash representing the remnant of spirituality. There is only a table that has lost its color, and black matter is piled up on the table. smoke.
Agatha's eyeballs were slowly shaking in the palm of her hand.
The gatekeeper is thinking.
Is it because the death time is too long, and the afterglow of the soul has dissipated? Or is it because the person who stayed in this room was just a "fake~IndoMTL.com~ so in fact there is no real humanity, but only simulated memories and people
Grid? Or... that soul has already passed through Bartok's gate and entered its resting place?
The last conjecture is especially impossible—after all, judging from the current situation of the room, even if the "Brown Scott" once had a soul staying here, it has been seriously polluted, and the polluted Souls... cannot pass through that door.
But where did the soul go?
The low whispers around him sounded again, and it was noisier and more annoying than before.
The shadows of the spirit world are starting to be restless, they don't like the sudden intruders—even if they are powerful gatekeepers, it's best not to stay at this depth for too long.
Thinking of this, Agatha raised her cane and paused twice on the floor.
When the tin cane hit the ground, it made a loud noise like thunder.
"Agatha, the gatekeeper of the world, wants to talk to the gatekeeper of the world of the dead."