Chapter 1 The Black Soil

Black soil scattered down, covering the not-so-wide grave, like night closing at the end of time, burying the eternal death. The god born after the silence of all things now rested, turning into a small mound on the hillside as the world came to an end.

A chaotic wind blew from the darkness, gently caressing the small mound. Nameless wildflowers and weeds swayed in the wind, rustling softly. Duncan stood in the wind, his hands on the shovel, gazing for a long time at the fresh pile of earth before him.

Then he looked up, surveying his surroundings—Death had not prepared a tombstone for himself, nor was there any material here that could serve as one.

Duncan then forcefully thrust the shovel, which had been used to dig the earth, into the ground in front of the mound, and used his hands to pile some soil around the shovel to reinforce it, using it as a tombstone.

After doing all this, he breathed a long sigh and placed his hand on the shovel handle one last time.

A wisp of faint green firelight, accompanied by dim starlight,溢出 from between his fingers, slowly covering Death's "tombstone," before disappearing again.

"May you rest in peace, Bartok, goodbye," Duncan said softly, his figure slowly disappearing into the wind.

Disordered, fragmented winds turned into brief howls, light and shadow溢出 from the darkness and reorganized in an instant. After a brief moment of weightlessness and sensory change, the feeling of being on solid ground returned once more, and the scene before Duncan's eyes quickly stabilized.

The magnificent Gate of Death still stood quietly in the center of the gravel wasteland, but in front of the triangular gate, the tall figure sitting on the black throne was silently collapsing, as if a fragmented dream awakened in the morning. The shapeless shadow shrouded in a black robe dissipated in the wind, and the robe fell like night, rotting and weathering away.

In the fluttering black debris and dust, only a faint green firelight闪烁 in the wind, emitting a hazy starlight.

Duncan lowered his head and saw that the edges of the hourglass in his hand were闪烁 with a dim glow. A vague murmur seemed to echo in his ears, and he understood. He took a few steps forward and placed the ancient and exquisite hourglass next to the throne where Death had once sat.

He stepped back and saw Agatha standing quietly, gazing somewhat distractedly at the now empty throne. After who knows how long, this "Gatekeeper" born from illusions slowly turned her head, her eyes revealing complex emotions: "...He rests?"

"Yes, I sent him on his final journey," Duncan nodded gently, then added, "The hourglass contains a portion of the power he left behind. I left it by the throne so that the churches of Death in the mortal world can still briefly borrow some 'blessings'... They can still use them."

Agatha nodded slowly, seeming to want to say something, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. In the end, all her thoughts and emotions could only be turned into a faint sigh.

"We should go back," Duncan said slowly. "The final countdown has begun. We must return to the Leviathan Queen's node immediately."

Agatha "嗯" and looked up in the direction she and the captain had come from, but saw only a gravelly wilderness with no visible landmarks.

The dim night shrouded this desolate kingdom. The path for the dead had no way back for the living.

But then, she saw the "Gatekeepers" standing around Death's throne suddenly move—the silent, towering phantoms slowly raised their hands, one after another, pointing towards a certain direction in the darkness. Twilight-like light seemed to逸散 from their sides, converging and flowing along the direction of their fingers.

Guided by the fingers of thousands of towering phantoms, a small path appeared in the gravel wasteland, shrouded in twilight, with nameless wildflowers blooming beside it, swaying slightly in the wind.

After the mechanism of death had ceased to function, after Death had rested, this was the first time a path allowing the living to return had appeared in the kingdom of death.

Agatha looked at this scene in astonishment, subconsciously looking up at the tall Gatekeeper who had initially led her and the captain, but saw that the Gatekeeper simply waved his hand silently.

Leave, do not look back, do not communicate with the kingdom of the dead again.

Agatha understood the other's meaning, turned around, and stepped onto the path leading out of the gravel wasteland with the captain.

There was no guidance from the "Gatekeepers" on the way back, only occasional breezes blowing from the darkness, accompanying Agatha and Duncan. They walked on this path for who knows how long, until the gravel wasteland disappeared and the black and white nameless weeds appeared in their vision again, until they returned to the depths of the wilderness where the weeds swayed, and the massive figures of the Vanishing Sail and the Brilliant Star appeared at the end of their vision—and then, after only taking two steps towards the Vanishing Sail, Duncan and Agatha returned to the place where they had initially left.

The paper boat was still parked in the open space, and Lucrezia was standing somewhat dazedly at the bow. When she saw Duncan, she raised her eyebrows in surprise, then immediately jumped off the boat and greeted them.

"You've been waiting here all this time?" Duncan looked in surprise at the "Sea Witch" before him. "We were gone for a long time..."

"You just left a few minutes ago—just after your and Agatha's figures suddenly passed through a twilight-colored light curtain, it hasn't been long," Lucrezia said in surprise when she heard Duncan's words. "I thought you had encountered something and suddenly turned back."

"A few minutes?" Duncan frowned upon hearing this, but quickly pushed the incredulity aside—having experienced so many bizarre situations, he had grown accustomed to it.

"Our business is finished," he said simply. "Let's return now."

Lucrezia looked at Duncan, then at Agatha beside him. She instinctively felt that in the past "few minutes," her father and Agatha seemed to have had an unforgettable experience or "witnessed" something, but in the end, she didn't ask anything, just nodded gently: "...Okay."

……

The pale flames in the brazier were extinguished, and the low, indistinct murmurs gradually disappeared from her mind. Agatha, who was kneeling in the prayer room, raised her head, as if sensing something, and turned to "look" at the mirror beside her.

Her eyes, covered with black cloth, could no longer see the scenes of the mortal world normally, but her clearer spiritual eyes allowed her to see the "reality" from other dimensions more clearly than ordinary people.

In the mirror, she saw a grave, a wasteland plunged into darkness, and the twilight gradually fading in the distance.

This brief "revelation" lasted only a second.

The young Gatekeeper and Archbishop had already understood the truth conveyed to her by this scene.

She knelt quietly before the icon, then lowered her head again, returning to her prayer—her lips moved, silently reciting the prayers offered for the dead.

The prayer was not long, but she repeated it three times before slowly rising from the cushion and coming to the shelf not far away. She took a dried flower with pale petals from a wooden box on the shelf and turned to place it next to the candlestick in front of the icon.

In the distant city, faint commotion echoed across the streets, entering the cathedral.

Slightly hurried footsteps came from the direction of the corridor, and after a moment, the voice of a cleric came from outside the prayer room: "Archbishop, are you inside?"

"Come in," Agatha said casually.

The door to the prayer room was pushed open, and a middle-aged cleric with short black hair and half his face covered in bandages stepped in.

Then his gaze was attracted by the white flower in front of the icon.

The middle-aged cleric frowned subconsciously. He instinctively felt that the flower seemed to have some meaning, which gave rise to some natural questions, but he found that he couldn't remember what it was. He opened his mouth, his eyes full of doubt, pale and turbid from the loss of vitality.

Then, Agatha walked over from the side, blocking the middle-aged cleric from the white flower with her body.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

The dazed look on the middle-aged cleric's face flashed past, and then he immediately reacted, quickly reporting: "Archbishop, another group of people has come to the cathedral seeking shelter and guidance, a dozen people. According to your instructions, I asked Mark to take Sister Natasha to receive them."

"嗯," Agatha nodded, then casually asked, "How are those people? Which district did they come from?"

"They seem to be quite frightened, in a state of agitation and doubt, but unable to accurately describe what happened," the middle-aged cleric reported. "The one in the best condition said that he suddenly 'woke up' this morning, and then felt that many things around him were wrong, and even the relatives and friends around him seemed strange and... terrifying. He was very scared, so he went to a small church for help, and there he met other people seeking help...

"The priest of the small church gave them emergency tranquilizers and blessings, and then sent two guardians through the city to bring them here.

"Most of them are from near the southern port, and three are from the cemetery ring district. They hardly know each other, have no interaction, and their residences have no unified characteristics..."

Listening to the middle-aged cleric's report, Agatha said nothing, just nodded with a calm expression.

"The city hall will send people later. Shelters in the foothills district have been temporarily arranged for accommodation... Although the conditions are limited, it is very safe there."

"Okay," the middle-aged cleric responded, then looked at Agatha with some hesitation and unease, observing the expression of this "acting Archbishop" as he hesitated to speak, "Archbishop, what... happened? This situation has been happening one after another recently, and in the church too..."

"John," Agatha interrupted him, "do you remember what I said to the clerics when I gathered them the day before yesterday?"

The middle-aged cleric's expression changed slightly, then he nodded.

"I can't explain it to you now, because even if I explain, you won't hear those voices," Agatha said calmly. "But when you suddenly 'wake up,' you will understand—then don't panic, just go to the inner sanctuary, someone will arrange it there."

(End of chapter)