Ashes Of Deep Sea
Chapter 399 - Chapter 399 Chapter 403 The Truth of Depletion

Chapter 399: Chapter 403 The Truth of Depletion Chapter 399: Chapter 403 The Truth of Depletion Leading a small squad of fully armed guardians, Agatha left the forward base established by the church’s troops. They passed through several makeshift barricades and firing positions and crossed an intersection lit by gas lamps, eventually reaching the deepest part of a branching corridor.

The gas lamps embedded in the walls emitted a faint hissing sound. The ancient piping system provided an unstable supply of gas, causing the light to flicker dimly. Beneath this not-so-bright illumination, one could see a dark and hefty alloy door quietly standing at the end of the corridor.

The sound of a cane and heels tapping against the floor echoed hollowly in the corridor as Agatha approached the door–which, perhaps due to the passage of too much time, was actually somewhat unsealed. A narrow gap was visible between the two doors, and the lead block that was originally sealed on the bolt appeared to have sustained an undefined impact, with clear signs of stretching and tearing.

On the nameplate beside the door, one could see the steel stamp left by the Frost City-State Hall.

This was the discovery of the exploration team deep underground, the strange door located in the central area of the second waterway that she and Governor Winston had mentioned.

The City-State Hall had blocked off this place, yet the Governor himself was completely unaware of the door’s existence–the records related to this door had been lost. It might date back to the chaotic era that had just ended with the Queen’s reign when the turmoil caused both the door and the secrets behind it to fade from public memory.

Could this be the lair where those obliterated cultists were hiding? Or the enigma left by Frost Queen Lei Nora to the world?

Agatha reached out a hand, lightly touching the rough and thick alloy door panel. The sensation on her fingertips felt surprisingly dull and numb, except for the pronounced chill.

“Shall we open this door?” a guardian in black stepped forward to ask, “The permission from the Governor has come through…”

“Mr. Winston indeed granted permission, but this door, sealed in darkness for so many years, should not be hastily opened,” Agatha gently shook her head, “There might be dangerous things sealed behind it–I’ll go check the opposite side first.”

The nearby guardians immediately understood their commander’s intent and stepped back.

Agatha then raised her head, eyeing the crack between the two door panels before reaching forward with her hand.

Nothing happened, and she furrowed her brows in confusion.

A black-clad guardian looked over curiously, “Is there a problem?”

“…No, there’s no problem.” Agatha shook her head, then focused her attention once more.

A gust of wind finally rose from the ground, her figure turning into a greyish-white mist in the wind. The Grey Wind swirled in front of the door twice before slipping into the narrow gap.

“Stay alert in position and wait for the Gatekeeper to return.”

The black-clad guardian captain, relieved that Agatha had passed through the door, began ordering his men to set up guard positions in the corridor.

On the other side, the grey-white whirlwind passed through the gap in the door and entered a dim space. After a moment’s swirl, Agatha’s figure reformed from the mist.

The Gatekeeper turned to glance back at the door she had come through and checked her condition, instinctively furrowing her brow.

Why… The Divine Arts she was accustomed to using daily felt somehow crude today–why did even her body’s own response seem slower?

After a moment of perplexity, Agatha shook her head, temporarily refocusing on the task at hand.

She looked around. The lantern at her waist cast a dim yellow glow that dispelled the lingering darkness. From all directions, shadows seemed to conceal many restive things, yet when she focused her gaze, those within the darkness quieted once more.

A damp and gloomy passage, where exposed earth and stones with a metallic luster could still be seen. Under the inadequate light of the lantern, one could make out the crossbeams and supports that propped up the passageway, as well as some miscellaneous items scattered near piles of rocks nearby.

Agatha frowned, deducing that the scene here did not resemble a part of the second waterway–a normal sewer corridor would not have this structure. The space behind this door… It looked more like an abandoned mine passageway.

A mine passage?

Agatha lifted her head, thoughtfully gazing at the moist and dark rock ceiling above, while her gaze seemingly pierced through the thick rocks and mud, reaching upward all the way to those layered passages, shafts, machinery, and ramps.

The Boiling Gold mines.

This part of the second waterway was located in the center of the City-State, with underground tributaries crisscrossing around the Boiling Gold mines. A significant portion of the sewage system was actually part of the mine drainage system from the Queen’s era, and indeed, the places closest to the mine passages in these channels might only be separated by a door.

She walked slowly along the mine passage while more and more doubts surfaced in her mind.

This was merely a mine passage, and it even seemed to be not completely swallowed and distorted by darkness, for Boiling Gold was a metal that possessed Holiness. The traces of boiling gold contained within the rocks and soil were enough to withstand Corrosion just like light and steam–why would such a passage be solemnly sealed behind such a heavy door?

It was sealed underground, and even the present Governor was unaware of its existence–if it was indeed the first generation City-State Hall that issued the sealing order following the Queen’s era, then what was so special about this place to cause them such alarm?

And yet this mine tunnel had clearly been abandoned… Why was that the case? It was not polluted, there were no monsters, no illusions, and no…

Hythloth.

Agatha suddenly stopped, her gaze sweeping over the excavation layers beneath the slopes on both sides of the mine tunnel; she finally began to realize the source of the dissonance she had been feeling all along.

There was no Hythloth.

…

In the City Hall, once the highest level of the Queen’s Palace, within the domed office, the corpulent Governor Winston slowly fiddled with the delicate machinery in his hands.

The brass mechanism made slight clicking sounds in his grasp, gears and link rods turning, their engagement and rotation carrying a precise and chilling beauty.

The creations of intelligence, the crystallization of engineering, the achievements of civilization–the spinning gears were badges and ribbons of mortal endeavor.

Winston placed the mechanical model before him, indifferently using the ornamental ribbon from the outside of his coat to wipe away a spot of grease near the model’s base. After cleaning it, he nodded slightly, his face showing a satisfied appreciation as if admiring a piece of fine art.

“Hythloth is the blood of Frost, and the mine machinery is the heart pumping fresh blood…”

As if speaking to himself or perhaps to the tiny intricate machine before him, Winston murmured softly while his fingers toyed with those fine brass gears.

“Fifty years… truly like a fleeting dream, an illusion…”

He slowly rose to his feet and walked towards the windowsill.

Outside the broad glass window was the thick fog that enveloped the entire city; amidst the rising, swirling mist, every building and road blurred its contours and boundaries, as if they were about to melt into the fabric of the City-State itself. Even the grand church across the open space became a hazy shadow in the mist, while the myriad tall towers and spires seemed like the gasping, dying breaths of giants.

Winston watched the fog outside the window with a calm expression, listening to the alarm bells coming from the plaza across, as well as the sounds of the City Hall guards and the police forces assembling and coordinating in the square.

Such extensive and eerie fog would, of course, alert the City Hall; even without his personal orders as Governor, the City-State’s defense forces would already be moving according to predetermined procedures–however, maintaining order in the thick fog might be just the easiest part of what was to come.

Winston stood at the window for a while, then turned and walked a short distance away.

A small, round table was placed near the windowsill, with wisps of fog seeping through the window cracks, hovering around the table–and amidst the smoke-like mist, he saw two things resting upon it.

One was a stack of yellowed, brittle documents; the other was a beautifully crafted revolver.

The documents were written and produced in a classical format, with high-quality paper edges showing intricate and elaborate embossed borders, carrying the unique, elegant atmosphere of the Queen’s era.

“Hythloth Mine Depletion Alarm,” “Investigation Report on Abnormal Mine Tunnel,” “Analysis of Examination Results of Samples from the Mine”…

Most of the documents had been signed off as read between the years 1840 and 1845.

The signature of the reviewer was Lei Nora.

The revolver was Governor Winston’s personal collection, a classic model from twelve years prior, still robust and reliable even today, its well-maintained handle and mechanism gleaming, seemingly capable of another dozen years of service–or perhaps even longer.

Winston’s gaze swept over the documents before finally resting on the revolver.

He reached out and picked up the heavy steel, feeling its cold touch, opened and checked the gun’s cylinder, then snapped it back into place.

His right hand slowly raised, the barrel once carefully maintained by its owner pressed against the temple.

A few seconds later, the gun was set down.

“This position is not bad, I’ll use this one later,” Winston said softly, then checked the gun’s safety and placed the revolver securely in the holster at his waist.

Hurried footsteps came from the corridor.

“Governor, the dense fog in the city is getting worse…”

“I know, I’m on my way.”