Ashes Of Deep Sea
Chapter 395 - Chapter 395 Chapter 399 Connection

Chapter 395: Chapter 399 “Connection Chapter 395: Chapter 399 “Connection When the first deformed freak charged at her with a scream, Agatha merely shifted her body slightly, and at the moment she intersected with the enemy, she tapped the creature’s limbs with her cane, causing it to burst into flames in an instant in the “Cremation.” She then raised her cane before the pale fierce flames hit the ground, drawing a dazzling white line from the fire, leading it to fall into the road ahead, spreading like flowing fire to burn those ugly monsters.

She tried to avoid making extensive body movements to reduce fatigue and pain, and she tried to avoid contact with those freaks to lessen the mental strain–since she didn’t know how many indestructible monsters were waiting ahead, she had to conserve her strength.

She was not averse to death; she knew that her body could still fight after its death, all the way to turning into ashes, which would float around this cursed place, continuously purifying those disgusting creatures–she was never afraid of all this, but before embracing death, she still wanted to investigate the truth here and stop the heretics’ actions as much as possible.

Attacks on her became more frequent along the way, and the actions of the deformed freaks grew more restless, vaguely proving one thing–she was headed in the right direction; the lair of the heretics was right ahead.

More black sludge seeped out from the nearby walls and arches; every pore and crevice here was a breeding ground for these deformed beings. Due to the terrain, the appearance of these “replicas” began to become more bizarre and difficult to deal with.

A faint hissing sound came from behind, and a sense of alarm rose in Agatha’s heart. Feeling sluggish from fatigue, she could only awkwardly twist her body at a critical moment, using the cane in her hand to block–an acute pain shot through her shoulder as she saw a dazzling spark burst from the middle of the cane, sending a figure clad in black, holding a guardian’s cane, flying.

The figure fell to the ground and then crawled up like some repulsive soft-bodied creature. He lifted his head, under the black hat was a face slowly melting and deforming, in that horrifying visage, certain familiar contours could vaguely be discerned.

The next second, the flowing face solidified, transforming into a young man with distinct facial contours–he looked up at Agatha, a puzzled expression on his face, “Captain? What are you doing here?”

Agatha’s fingers tightened around the cane, her gaze blank for a second.

Almost simultaneously, she heard a voice–a voice whose source she couldn’t tell, as if the entire sewer system was resonating, whispering to her:

“Ah, you recognized him–when you were not yet the Gatekeeper, your loyal deputy protected you as you retreated from the darkness… you left him there… what if you take him back?”

Agatha did not respond, but silently stepped forward. After three steps, she transformed into a gust of Grey Wind, then that wind abruptly stopped and solidified in front of the young “guardian,” and as her figure reappeared, the tin staff in her hand had deeply pierced the chest of the black-clad guardian.

The young black-clad guardian stared at the scene in astonishment, as if he couldn’t believe he would die at the hands of his deeply trusted “captain,” but suddenly, as if realizing something, he murmured softly in his throat, “So it’s already over…”

“Sorry, it will be over soon,” Agatha said softly.

The young black-clad guardian slowly lowered his head and chuckled, “Captain, you’ve finally mastered the power of Ashen Wind…”

“Yes, I’ve practiced a lot,” Agatha said softly, as a pale fire rose before her eyes, and the body of the “black-clad guardian” dissolved and crumbled away in the “Cremation,” turning into a heap of black dust.

“Decisive, ruthless, very fitting for your role as a saint of death.”

That disgusting voice echoed again, Agatha turned around, only to see more deformed freaks taking shape, with “replicas” surging towards her from all directions–the voice’s owner clearly did not engage in any chivalrous spirit, even during a “heart strike,” he continuously directed these underlings to attack her.

The sounds of flames exploding, the staff striking back, and the whistling of the air echoed in the underground corridor. Agatha, while fending off the attacks of the deformed beings, said in a stern voice, “These tricks only serve to infuriate me, but they cannot delay my steps–on the contrary, anger only makes me faster in finding your hideout. How does that benefit you?”

“Indeed, you are angry, looking even fiercer than before, but that’s alright–appropriate emotional fluctuations are also necessary, Miss Gatekeeper.”

The voice echoing in the corridor seemed to gradually fade away. Agatha felt a stir inside–appropriate emotional fluctuations are also necessary? What did that mean?

However, there was no one here to answer her questions anymore; the master of the voice had only one goal, to use the cannon fodder to constantly weaken her strength and delay her steps, and now he had already left, leaving behind only the monsters that had just “seeped” from the surrounding walls.

Agatha’s gaze intensified, and she faced her enemies once again.

…

“Our warriors are engaged in battle!”

A green blaze suddenly tore through the dimness of the second waterway; Pigeon Ai Yi burst out from the flames, slamming directly onto Duncan’s shoulders, flapping its wings vigorously while emitting a sharp, noisy shriek.

This silly bird that suddenly shot out, along with its sharp shriek, startled Duncan, almost causing Alice’s head to fall off.

Having searched the dry, spacious underground corridor for half a day, Duncan instantly widened his eyes, turning to look at the fiery pigeon spirit on his shoulder, “What are you screaming about?”

Ai Yi tilted his head, his small eyes staring intently at Duncan, nodding solemnly, “Our scout is under attack! Our scout is under attack! The battle situation is too unfavorable for us… Our warriors are fighting the enemy!”

Alice leaned in, holding her head, “Captain, did Ai Yi have a stomachache?”

Ai Yi turned his head and glared at the doll, stretched his neck, and pecked twice on her head, making a “dong dong” sound before shouting, “Does this make sense? Does this make sense? Does this make sense…”

Alice let out a startled cry from being pecked and ran off, holding her head.

Duncan, however, did not pay attention to the commotion around him. He had already become serious upon hearing Ai Yi shout the second time and soon after looked thoughtfully in a certain direction.

“Both of you quiet down,” he suddenly broke the silence several seconds later, his expression extra solemn as he looked towards the corridor on the other side, “Ai Yi might have sensed something.”

Alice immediately behaved and looked in the direction of Duncan’s gaze.

“It’s my mark… it’s the ‘Gatekeeper’,” Duncan’s voice rose, and he took steps forward, “she’s nearby.”

Alice looked in that direction and then suddenly widened her eyes,

“Ah, a line!”

Miss Doll let out a short cry of alarm and then quickly ran over — she was even faster than Duncan, like an anxious child hurrying to catch a balloon about to fly away. She sprinted to the corner, then jumped up to grab at some invisible things in the air.

Duncan just saw Alice running past, jumping up to grab at things in the air, and then, he faintly saw something truly appearing in Alice’s hands.

Some white, almost translucent lines, slightly refracting the ambient light in the air…

He walked quickly over, and Alice turned her head, her face breaking into a radiant, joyful smile.

“I caught it…”

Miss Doll’s joyful smile lasted only a moment before the vaguely visible lines in her hands suddenly began to shatter, break, and rapidly disintegrate in the air like accelerating erosion.

“Ah!” Alice cried out, “the line broke!”

But before her cry finished, a tall, burly figure had already quickly walked over, and Duncan reached out for the disintegrating “line” — a piece about to completely vanish fell into his hand.

Instantly, a layer of eerie green fire coated the line.

Duncan slowly turned his head, looking into Alice’s eyes, Alice’s widened eyes reflecting a burst of eerie green.

“I got it,” Duncan said softly.

…

An abomination turned to ashes in pale flames, another’s head smashed by a staff, collapsing like mud, Agatha turned her body, her combat staff cutting through the air, fiercely slamming into the last enemy still standing at the corner.

Then, her actions abruptly stopped.

Completely out of instinct, without the time to think, immense fear and shock seized her entire mind. She even felt her muscles and bones emit a harsh, terrifying creak in that moment, some powerful force from her spiritual intuition — possibly even a direct warning from the death god Bartok himself — suddenly halted her movement.

She saw her staff stop, just millimeters away from the head of the last “counterfeit” who had just risen from the mud.

Her eyes widened as she watched the humanoid figure formed from flowing mud slowly raise its head, its head gradually forming a pair of eyes, with eerie green flames igniting on the surface of its body, and a deep voice crackling through the flames —

“Agatha, do you need help?”