Chapter 1 The Room Falls Silent

Silence filled the room for a good ten seconds before Agatha heard Bishop Ivan's low, raspy voice coming from beneath the bandages: "Oh."

"...Your reaction is a little unexpected."

"Because your information is too unexpected," Bishop Ivan seemed to finally recover. He adjusted his sitting posture, his tone becoming particularly serious. "You said the Gold-Seething Mine in Frost City-State was exhausted decades ago? That's the truth you discovered down there?"

"Yes, there's a door at the deepest part of the Second Waterway, probably sealed by the First City Hall. Behind the door is a mine tunnel that has long been exhausted—judging from the location, it should be in the enrichment zone at the bottom of the mine, which is theoretically the last area to be mined..."

Agatha didn't hide anything, telling everything she had found underground. In the process, Bishop Ivan's expression visibly grew more solemn.

After a while, Agatha finished describing her findings, but then added hesitantly, "...That's just one mine tunnel. There are countless mine tunnels in the mine. Even if it's the deepest part of the enrichment zone, it can't be used to judge that the entire mine has been exhausted, so a large part of my conclusion is based on conjecture...I know, this conjecture is too crazy."

"...Yes, too crazy a conjecture," Bishop Ivan slowly said. "After all, if what you say is true, the Gold-Seething Mine has long been exhausted—then what have we been constantly transporting out of the mine for the past half-century? What Gold-Seething catalysts have the Frost City-State been sending to other cities all these years?"

Agatha didn't speak. She knew that the problem Bishop Ivan mentioned couldn't be avoided or answered at all.

The Frost City-State has always produced the highest quality Gold-Seething ore and finished catalyst rods. In the past fifty years, the Gold-Seething production of Frost City alone has been almost equal to the total of all the other city-states in the Frigid Sea—the Gold-Seething in the mine is endless, the excavating machinery swallows wealth day and night, and the catalysts produced by the smelting factories are transported to the entire world. Ships using those catalysts are all over the Boundless Sea.

And in the entire half-century, not a single Gold-Seething order has ever had a problem.

If the mine vein really dried up decades ago, then not to mention the Frost Mine problem—what are all those ships on the Boundless Sea burning in their steam cores? Illusions?

After a long time, the Gatekeeper could only sigh softly, "...If that is also a creation of pollution, then our world is truly absurd to a terrifying degree."

"Our world has always been absurd, but perhaps...you have really found a key clue," Bishop Ivan shook his head. "Let's not worry about whether that conjecture is crazy or not. From a rational point of view, the contradiction between a mine vein that dried up decades ago and a mine that is still producing steadily today is very likely related to the current anomalies in the city-state."

"...But according to the clues we have so far, the current anomalies should have been caused by those Annihilation Cultists," Agatha reminded. "What do they have to do with the mine?"

"They don't necessarily have anything to do with the mine—they may just be taking advantage of and detonating this crisis," Bishop Ivan quickly thought. The experience he had accumulated over decades, especially in dealing with cultists, was helping him complete this puzzle. "Those heretics couldn't have been setting up a layout in the city-state for decades without being discovered, especially since the exhaustion of the mine vein can be traced back to the Queen's era. In that era, Frost's crackdown on heretics was far greater than it is today. No cultist could escape the eyes of the Frost Queen..."

Speaking of this, the old bishop paused, and then suddenly asked, "You said earlier that Governor Winston knew nothing about the door at the depths of the Second Waterway?"

Agatha nodded: "That's what he said."

"...I don't quite believe his statement," Bishop Ivan shook his head hesitantly. "The situation at the time of the First City Hall was indeed a bit chaotic, but the handover between the first few governors and the administrative teams shouldn't have had such a big flaw, especially such a critical and sensitive secret..."

"You mean, Governor Winston is hiding something from me?" Agatha frowned. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know. It may be to maintain the authority of the City Hall, it may be that there are bigger implications behind this secret, or it may even be because he has been controlled by something. It's hard to say," Bishop Ivan said, his eyes suddenly falling on Agatha. "What surprises me more is that you didn't have any doubts in this regard—you usually wouldn't have this kind of oversight."

Agatha was stunned.

In this moment of daze, she recalled the scene she had experienced when returning from the Second Waterway—the reflection in the pool, the "other self" in the reflection walking in the opposite direction.

"Agatha, what's wrong?" Bishop Ivan's voice woke her from her trance.

Agatha blinked and shook her head gently.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Bishop Ivan's tone was obviously suspicious. "You've been distracted more than once in the past two days, and..."

"I'm fine, always fine," Agatha interrupted the old bishop. For some reason, after a brief moment of confusion, her tone became relaxed. She took a light breath and got up from the chair. "I just suddenly figured out some things—I should leave."

Bishop Ivan stood up: "...You're going to the mine?"

"The navy is blocking the enemy, and the constables and guards are controlling the situation. They've bought time. I still have a chance to figure out the source behind all this. It's time to leave."

Agatha paused here, as if to emphasize, and said again: "Time is limited. I can't rest here for too long."

"Okay, then go ahead," Bishop Ivan nodded gently. "I hope you can find out the truth and return safely."

"I will find out the truth."

In the thick fog, distant gunfire rang out from time to time, occasionally mixed with warning broadcasts from the constable or guard units, and the sound of sirens automatically sounded by certain facilities.

The city-state was blurred in the fog, and an invisible terror permeated the fog.

"Comparatively speaking, I would rather deal with hundreds or thousands of fully armed cultists, or charge back and forth in a burning city a few more times."

Vanna casually dissipated the giant sword condensed from ice and frowned as she looked at the ground in front of her.

In the limited view, the ground within sight was covered with terrifying cracks crisscrossing, and a large amount of turbid black mud was slowly flowing and wriggling between those cracks, and quickly solidified. Some of the mud even barely retained the outlines of human figures, but presented a chilling distortion on the key limbs.

"Too disgusting," Vanna muttered again.

"Seriously, would you really rather fight another battle in a burning city?"

Maurice's voice came from the side. The old scholar held a cane and glanced at the fragmented "battlefield" in front of him, casually saying to Vanna.

"...Okay, I don't want to," Vanna shrugged. "Whether it's a fake city-state shrouded in fog or a burning city where the black sun descends, neither is a good place to be."

As she spoke, the thick fog flowed, and a tall figure suddenly appeared from the fog behind Vanna. The figure's head was swollen and deformed, and a huge single eye trembled violently in the fog. The next second, the monster pounced on Vanna.

But Vanna didn't turn her head, just stomped on the ground—an invisible shock wave spread out in an instant. The deformed and twisted thing only took one step forward before its lower body was directly shattered, and it quickly turned into mud after falling to the ground.

And under her conscious control, Maurice, who was close at hand, was not affected by the shock wave at all—the old scholar just adjusted his monocle and calmly looked around at the misty streets.

The next second, he suddenly looked at a certain position, and a silver light flashed in his eyes: "The Macafini Conjecture and Proof."

The next second, continuous, low explosions like watermelons being stepped on came from the fog, and several figures could be vaguely seen emerging from the fog, their heads exploding like fireworks.

"The good news is that these inferior fakes imitate a certain degree of thinking ability, and the controllers behind them need to be even more intelligent," Maurice withdrew his gaze, the silver light in his eyes gradually weakening. "I was initially worried that they were all chaotic shells, in which case the power of knowledge wouldn't be very effective against them."

Vanna looked strangely at the monsters whose heads exploded in the distance and gradually turned into mud, and looked back at Maurice: "When you taught me back then, you didn't say, 'The power of knowledge is so useful.'"

"At that time, I judged that you were not suitable for this path," Maurice said casually.

Vanna: "..."

The Inquisitor小姐 felt mocked for a moment, but after recalling her exam scores back then, she decided to continue to maintain a humble attitude.

"Are there any more around?"

She maintained her vigilance and asked in a low voice.

"Not for now," Maurice shook his head.

He was constantly sensing the surrounding situation—when those monsters appeared from the fog, their chaotic thoughts would first appear in his perception. The fog could block people's sight, but the light of thought was as conspicuous as a beacon in the dark in his eyes.

Very few people can actively control their thoughts, so in the field of "detecting intelligent creatures", no one can compare to the saints of the God of Wisdom.

"It's good that there aren't any for now, although new ones will appear soon," Vanna took a breath and stretched her hands and feet slightly. "Don't you think... there are a lot of fake monsters in this direction, and they are obviously more aggressive than those in other places?"

"You felt it too?" Maurice raised his eyebrows. "Then it seems my judgment is correct."

"You mean..."

"Those 'fakes' that appear from the fog are not all acting blindly. Some of them are controlled by someone."