Ashes Of Deep Sea Chapter 407

Chapter 407: Chapter 411 Tracking Chapter 407: Chapter 411 Tracking “`
The room fell into silence for a moment.

This silence lasted for a good ten seconds before Agatha heard the deep, hoarse voice of Bishop Ivan from beneath the bandages, “Oh–”
“…Your reaction is a bit unexpected.”

“Because your information is too unexpected,” Bishop Ivan seemed to finally come to his senses. He adjusted his sitting posture and spoke with extra seriousness, “You're saying that the Boiling Gold veins of Frost City-State were exhausted decades ago? Is that the truth you uncovered down there?”

“Yes, at the deepest part of the second waterway there is a door, possibly sealed by the first city council. Behind that door is a mine shaft long depleted–judging by its location, it should be at the bottom of the mining site, in the enrichment area, theoretically the last to be mined…”
Agatha did not hide anything, sharing everything she had discovered underground and, during this process, Bishop Ivan's expression visibly became more and more somber.

After a while, when Agatha had finished relating her findings, she hesitated slightly before adding, “…That is just one mine shaft, there are countless more in the mine, and even if that is the deepest part of the enrichment area, we cannot from this determine that the entire mine is exhausted, so my conclusion relies heavily on speculation… I know, this guess is too crazy.”

“…Indeed, a crazy guess,” Bishop Ivan slowly began, “after all, if according to you, the Boiling Gold mine was exhausted long ago–then what have we been extracting and shipping out from the mines for the past half-century? What about the Boiling Gold Catalyst that Frost City-State has been supplying to other cities all these years?”

Agatha didn't speak; she knew that the problems Bishop Ivan raised were unavoidable and unanswerable questions.

Frost City-State has always produced the highest quality raw Boiling Gold and finished catalyst rods. In the past fifty years, the output of Boiling Gold from Frost City-State alone was almost equivalent to the total combined output of all other city-states by the Chill Sea–The source of Boiling Gold in the mines was inexhaustible; the mining machinery operated day and night, swallowing wealth, and the catalysts produced by the smelting factories were transported to the whole world, with ships using those catalysts scattered across the Endless Sea.

And in that entire half-century, not a single Boiling Gold order had ever had any problems.

If the veins really had been depleted decades ago, then setting aside the issues with the Frost mines–what are all those ships on the Endless Sea burning in their steam cores? Illusions?

After a long time, the gatekeeper could only sigh softly, “…If that too is a contaminated creation, then our world has indeed reached a terrifying level of absurdity.”

“Our world has always been absurd, but perhaps… you really have found a key clue this time,” Bishop Ivan shook his head, “Let's not consider whether that speculation is crazy. From a rational standpoint, the contradiction between a vein that was depleted decades ago and a mine that is still producing steadily now is very likely related to the current abnormalities within the city-state.”

“…But according to the clues we had before, the current abnormalities should be caused by those annihilation cultists,” Agatha reminded, “What do they have to do with the mines?”

“They may not necessarily be related to the mines–they might have just taken advantage of and ignited this crisis,” Bishop Ivan pondered swiftly, decades of life experience, particularly dealing with heretics, helping him piece together this puzzle, “Those heretics could not have laid out their plans in the city-state for decades without being discovered, especially when the depletion of the veins might date back to the time of the queen, an era when Frost's crackdown on heretics was much more severe than it is today, and no heretic could have escaped the Frost Queen's eyes…”
At this point, the old Bishop paused, then suddenly asked, “You just said, Governor Winston knows nothing about that door deep within the second waterway?”

Agatha nodded, “That's what he said.”

“…I don't quite believe him,” Bishop Ivan hesitated, shaking his head, “The situation with the original city council back then was indeed a bit chaotic, but there shouldn't be such a major oversight during the handover between the first few governors and their administrations, especially not with such a crucial and sensitive secret…”
“Are you suggesting that Governor Winston is hiding something from me?” Agatha frowned, “Why would he do that?”

“I don't know, it might be to maintain the authority of the city hall, there could be bigger implications behind this secret, or maybe he's been controlled by something, it's hard to say,” Bishop Ivan mused, his gaze suddenly falling on Agatha, “What surprises me more is that you didn't become suspicious in this regard–this is not like you to overlook such things.”

Agatha was stunned.

In this brief moment of stupefaction, she recalled the scene she had experienced on her way back through the second waterway–the reflection in the pool, the “other self” in the reflection heading in the opposite direction.

“Agatha, what's wrong?” Bishop Ivan's voice snapped her out of her reverie.

Agatha blinked and shook her head gently.

“Are you sure you're alright?” Bishop Ivan's tone was clearly suspicious, “You've been lost in thought more than once in the past couple of days, and…”

“I'm fine, always have been,” Agatha interrupted the old Bishop's words, and for some reason, after a brief moment of bewilderment, her tone was now lighter. She took a deep breath, got up from her chair, “I've just realized a few things–I should set out now.”

Bishop Ivan stood up, “…Are you going to the mine?”

“The navy is blocking the enemy, the law enforcers and guardians are controlling the situation, they've bought us time, and I still have the chance to understand the source behind all this. It's time to leave.”

Agatha paused there momentarily as if to emphasize, then added, “Time is limited, I can't rest here too long.”

“Alright, then set out,” Bishop Ivan nodded lightly, “I hope you uncover the truth smoothly and return safely.”

“`
“I will find out the truth.”

In the thick fog, distant gunshots rang out from time to time, interspersed occasionally with warning broadcasts from the autonomous police forces or the guardians' units, as well as the sounds of alarms automatically triggered by certain facilities.

The City-State was now blurred within the fog, which was permeated with an invisible terror.

“Compared to this, I'd much rather deal with hundreds of fully armed Heretics, or charge a few more times through a city ablaze.”

Fenna casually dispelled the giant sword condensed from ice, frowned, and looked at the ground before her.

Within the limited visibility, the ground everywhere as far as she could see was covered with terrifying, intersecting cracks, and large amounts of filthy black sludge were slowly flowing and wriggling between the cracks, quickly solidifying. Some of the sludge even retained a rough human shape, yet featured a chillingly twisted appearance in its critical limbs.

“Disgusting,” Fenna muttered again.

“Seriously, would you really be willing to fight another battle in a burning city?”

Morris's voice came from beside her. The old scholar, holding his staff, glanced at the shattered “battlefield” in front of him and spoke offhandedly to Fenna.

“…All right, I wouldn't,” Fenna shrugged her shoulders, “Neither the phony City-State shrouded in fog nor the Burning City under the Black Sun are any better.”

While they spoke, the fog swirled, and a tall figure suddenly emerged from the mist behind Fenna. The figure's head was swollen and misshapen, and its huge singular eye trembled violently through the fog. In the next second, the monster lunged at Fenna.

Fenna didn't even turn around; she simply stamped her foot on the ground–An invisible shockwave instantly spread out, shattering the lower body of the twisting creature that had only taken one step forward, which then collapsed to the ground and rapidly turned to sludge.

Under her conscious control, Morris, who was close by, was not affected by the shockwave at all–the old scholar merely adjusted his monocle and calmly scanned the fog-enshrouded streets.

The next second, he suddenly looked towards a specific location, a hint of silver light surfacing in his eyes:
“McAffinity's hypothesis and proof.”

The next second, a series of low, continuous booms, like watermelons being crushed, came from the fog. Vague figures emerged from the mist, their heads exploding like fireworks.

“The good news is, these inferior counterfeits have imitated a certain degree of thinking capability, and their controllers need even more brains,” Morris withdrew his gaze, the silver light in his eyes slowly fading, “At first, I was worried they were just chaotic husks, in which case the power of knowledge wouldn't have been of much use to them.”

Fenna looked somewhat oddly at the monsters with exploding heads turning into sludge in the distance, then turned to look at Morris: “When you taught me back then, you never said 'the power of knowledge' could be so useful.”

“At that time, I assessed that this path wasn't suitable for you,” Morris said casually.

Fenna: “…”

Judge Miss felt she might have been mocked for a moment but decided to maintain a humble attitude after recalling her past exam scores.

“Are there any more around?”

She stayed on alert and asked in a low voice.

“Not for now,” Morris shook his head.

He continually sensed the surroundings–when those creatures emerged from the fog, their chaotic thoughts were the first to register in his perception. The fog could obstruct sight, but the brilliance of thought shone in his eyes like bright lights in the dark night.

It is exceedingly rare for someone to actively control their thoughts, so in the field of “detecting intelligent beings,” no one could surpass the saints of the God of Wisdom.

“It's good that there are none for the time being, although new ones will likely appear soon,” Fenna breathed a sigh of relief, slightly warming up her limbs. “Have you noticed… there are a lot of these counterfeits in this direction, and they're more aggressive than those elsewhere?”

“You felt it too?” Morris raised his eyebrows, “Then it seems my judgment is correct.”

“You mean…”

“The counterfeits that emerge from the fog aren't all acting blindly. Some of them are being controlled by someone behind the scenes.”

Chapter end

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