Chapter 1 Agatha

Agatha held the small flame in her hand and stepped forward again, heading deeper into the Second Waterway.

In fact, she had lost track of time, and even her perception of everything around her had become blurred. She couldn't quite remember how long she had been trudging through this damp, cold place, nor how many monsters she had dealt with, nor how many wounds she had added in the process—for a time, she even forgot her own name, forgetting why she was in this sewer.

But when the green flame leaped in her palm, she would always find her reason again, and firmly remember the only, ultimate mission: to take the fire, to deliver the fire to the nests of those heretics.

A cold wind blew from the dark corridor ahead, carrying with it layers of murmurs and roars. Agatha swayed slightly. Sensing malice in the wind, she carefully hid the flame in her tattered black cloak.

*Must hide it well, can't let those heretics notice.* She raised her head, looking into the depths of the darkness, and saw countless amorphous shadows rising and falling in the wind. The gas lamps on the corridor walls had dimmed to a firefly-like glow, and filthy black sludge seeped little by little from the surrounding ceilings and pipe grates, wriggling, coalescing, taking shape, and emitting nauseating murmurs.

Agatha raised her staff, as scarred as she was. For some reason, she felt filled with strength again, the annoying feeling of fatigue had quietly disappeared.

She slammed the staff heavily on the ground, her eyes fixed on the blasphemous filth surging in the darkness. The tip of the staff struck the ground, emitting a booming sound like a resounding bell—

"Dong—"

The elevator creaked as the car sank deeper into the mine shaft. A guardian warrior on guard at the edge of the elevator car suddenly raised his head and said to his comrade beside him with some doubt:

"Did you hear something just now?"

"It sounded like a *dong*," another guardian said uncertainly, then subconsciously turned his head to look at the Gatekeeper standing in the center of the car.

"It was like… like…"

Like the sound of the Gatekeeper striking the "Death Knell" with her staff before the start of a heretic purification operation—he wanted to say it, but didn't.

Because the Gatekeeper was right here, resting with her eyes closed.

Seeming to hear the conversation of her subordinates, Agatha opened her eyes. She looked around, and silently came to the edge of the car surrounded by the railing, looking down.

"Gatekeeper," the guardian who had spoken earlier came over and said hesitantly,

"It sounded like there was a sound coming from below just now. Could it be that someone else is operating in the mine?"

"We're the only ones here," Agatha said without turning her head.

"Don't mind the sound just now."

The subordinates temporarily withdrew, but Agatha still looked down into the boundless and hazy darkness.

This was the Boiling Gold Mine, the largest vertical passage leading to the lower excavation area, and even in the depths of this mountain, fog... was still everywhere.

Normal fog, of course, could not possibly permeate such a place, but these strange fogs were obviously the work of extraordinary power. They seemed to seep everywhere consciously, and in dimly lit, underground areas, the fog was even more abundant, as if appearing out of thin air.

The mine elevator creaked and groaned as it continued to descend through this hazy fog. Occasionally, faint orbs of light could be seen moving upwards—these were the gas and electric lamps set up in the shaft, which looked so weak that they seemed like the faint glow of fireflies when viewed through the fog.

But in any case, the equipment in the mine was obviously still operating—the ventilation system, power pipelines, lighting system, and hoisting equipment... were all running normally.

Of course, extra caution was required when using machinery at this time. Agatha had specifically sent a priest to check the condition of the hoist before deciding to use the elevator—a safer option would have been to use the steps and ramps in the emergency passage to go down the well, but that would have taken too much time and energy.

"Hopefully this thing won't break on the way up," a young guardian warrior muttered softly.

"The cargo car and track that went out of control and crashed on the hillside were quite impressive."

"Can't you say something nice at a time like this?" Another older guardian frowned.

"Everyone's on the elevator—if you're so nervous, why don't you just jump down and be done with it. There definitely won't be any malfunctions during free fall."

"No, no, no, I was just saying it casually. This thing looks very strong and stable. It definitely won't have any problems…"

At this time, a nun with shoulder-length short hair heard the conversation between the two warriors and chimed in:

"But I heard that there is a female inquisitor in the distant city-state of Pland, who can jump directly from a cliff to a stone beach to kill the 'Offspring.' She would definitely be fine jumping from here…"

The two guardians were silent for two seconds, then said in unison:

"...Is that even human?!"

"I just heard…"

The warriors were talking, which would not affect their subsequent actions, but it could dilute the tension brought about by the continuous descent in the darkness—guardians are also human and need to relax their nerves.

Agatha turned her back to them, neither joining in nor stopping her subordinates—she just listened quietly, with a faint smile on her face.

Contrary to what many people thought, the usually serious and steady Gatekeeper was actually quite peaceful and tolerant towards her subordinates.

Just then, the sound of steel cables tightening and the friction of the braking system rang out from all around, interrupting the exchange between the guardians. The elevator car began to slow down and gradually stopped in an open and cold place.

"This is the transportation point on the first level," Agatha looked around and saw the nearest supporting structures, lighting systems, and the somewhat messy mining equipment in the nearby open space—the mining staff who had hurriedly evacuated obviously couldn't take everything with them, and traces of their hasty departure could be seen everywhere.

"Where's the transportation map?"

"Here it is," a priest immediately stepped forward and handed the transportation map brought from the Mine Affairs Bureau to the Gatekeeper.

"Our current location is Shaft No. 2."

Agatha took the map, and while walking out of the elevator, she compared the surrounding environment with the information, while recalling the intelligence she had obtained from the mine management before going down the well:

"The underground track cars leading to the excavation area have been shut down. To get to the excavation area, you can only walk. Follow the red line markings, and there will be a ramp leading to the excavation work surface one hundred and fifty meters away."

She raised her head and confirmed the surrounding situation again.

"First check the surroundings, establish a safe point, and then go deeper."

The subordinates became busy. The guardians went to confirm the safety of each traffic checkpoint, and the priests and nuns began to perform simple purification of the open space around the elevator and set up altars and holy objects.

Agatha walked around at will.

She stopped in front of an overturned transfer box that had not been taken away.

The transfer box was made of iron, with a tin lining inside. The lid was not fastened tightly, and it had been knocked open after falling to the ground, revealing the contents—some ore that had been broken into small pieces.

The ore had a dim metallic texture, and vein-like, pale gold streaks could be seen on the dark-colored outer skin.

"It should be a sample to be sent up with the shift change personnel for testing," a middle-aged guardian came over from the side and judged with experience.

Because Agatha had to investigate the situation in the mine, about half of the subordinates she brought this time were guardians who had been performing long-term missions in the Boiling Gold Mine area. Although they were not professional miners, they had quite a bit of experience with the situation here.

"Boiling Gold ore…"

Agatha's expression was serious as she poked at a few pieces of ore on the ground with her staff, then bent down, picked up a piece, and examined it carefully.

After a moment, she handed the ore to the middle-aged guardian:

"Check it out."

"It's high-quality raw ore. It looks like it can be sent to the furnace with just simple crushing and primary screening, but I can't really judge the ore extraction rate... I need a professional."

Agatha frowned:

"That's it?

No problems at all?"

"I didn't see any problems, it's just ore," the guardian said frankly, then asked with some doubt,

"Do you have any questions?"

Agatha silently picked up a piece of Boiling Gold ore, looked at it for a long time, and then said softly:

"What I'm about to say is just a guess, but it's also a secret—only those participating in this operation can know, and it must be after entering the well."

The guardian standing opposite her was slightly stunned, but in the next second, the warrior's face was already solemn and serious.

Surprised, but not panicked, unexpected, but not at a loss.

Because every clergyman who is qualified to follow the Gatekeeper on a mission—whether it is a guardian, or a nun or priest, has been selected by the church, and they have all sworn an oath and signed a contract under the gaze of Bartok.

Everyone knows the special nature of their mission, and knows how strange and棘手 the events that require the Gatekeeper to handle in person will be—in these actions that go deep into the darkness, anything can be a secret, and things that seem ordinary in the previous second may become a taboo that must be isolated from the civilized world in the next second, and even the people participating in the action may at any time become

a part of the "secret".

After all, some things, even just "knowing," are leaving a crack of erosion in the real world, and even just leaving an "impression" in the minds of those involved is leaving a shadow for future loss of control.

Agatha raised her head and saw that the temporary altar and the placement of the holy objects had been completed, and the safe point had been established.

"Everyone, gather—I have some things to announce."