Ashes Of Deep Sea
Chapter 744 - Chapter 744 Chapter 741 The Beginning of a Long Night

Chapter 744: Chapter 741 The Beginning of a Long Night Chapter 744: Chapter 741 The Beginning of a Long Night Hasty footsteps disrupted the tranquility of the sanctuary, as a middle-aged priest clad in a deep blue robe embroidered with gold swiftly passed through the long corridor. Under the silent watch of numerous sages depicted on the murals on both sides, he arrived at the doorway to the prayer room. Before he could knock, a gentle female voice already emerged from inside, “Come in.”

The middle-aged priest pushed open the door and saw a figure standing before the statue of the Storm Goddess–it was Helena, dressed in a simple priest’s robe, her wrists entwined with a string of ocean-blue crystal beads. It seemed she had been devoutly praying until just a second ago. Hearing the sound of the door opening behind her, she did not turn but remained quietly fixated on the veiled statue of the goddess and softly began to speak, “How are things outside now?”

“Dusk still lingers, the sun remains fixed in its original position, maintaining ‘normal’ brightness and form,” the middle-aged priest promptly reported with a bow, “Order within the City-State is still good. Due to the unclear situation, most citizens have returned to their homes awaiting further instructions. No anomalies have been reported from the Ark ships, and four squads of technical priests are on standby near the steam boilers.”

Helena nodded slightly, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before suddenly asking, “What about the other Arks?”

“Just minutes ago, we had a connection. Everything on the Arks is normal. The Academy Ark reported that their observation equipment received a series of repeated signals from the direction of the sun, different from previous signals. When converted to sound, they were sharp, brief noises…”

Helena hummed in response, then fell silent again, continuing to gaze quietly at the statue of the goddess. For a while, she seemed to have forgotten about the middle-aged priest still waiting for instructions beside her, until several minutes later, she murmured to herself, “The long dusk…”

Taran El furrowed his brows, gazing at the report just delivered by his apprentice. The long paper strip, automatically recorded by a machine, was covered in complex curves and seemingly patternless holes, baffling to the ordinary eye. These enigmatic data depicted the current state of the long-standing luminary and guardian of their world, “Anomaly 001 – the Sun.”

After a long time, the Elf scholar finally put down the paper strip, tiredly rubbing his temples, not speaking for a long while.

A calm voice came from the side, “Talk about the current situation, Taran.”

Taran El looked up to see Ted Riel standing by the bookshelf. The Truth Confidant was dressed in an academy robe, yet beneath it, one could see close-fitting soft armor and weapon attachments. He stood there seemingly calm, but his eyes were as sharp as a soldier ready to step into battle.

“…The sun is flickering. Though invisible to the naked eye, it is indeed flickering, not like a regular ‘signal,’ but more like a… poorly functioning light bulb,” Taran El moistened his dry lips and pushed the documents aside, “Additionally, the latest tracking has shown it not to be completely stationary on the horizon but still moving, albeit very, very slowly–so slow that it’s imperceptible to the naked eye.”

Ted Riel was silent for two or three seconds before asking, “…How slowly?”

“If the current speed holds, it will fall below the horizon in about seventy-two hours,” Taran El said, reaching for a glass of water by his side but nearly knocked it over. Hurriedly seizing the cup, he downed a couple of swigs of the now-cold tea, his complexion then slightly improved, “But the worst part isn’t the dusk that will last seventy-two hours; it’s what will happen after dusk, Ted–you know what I mean.”

“…Longer than the dusk will be the night,” Ted Riel’s expression instantly turned grave; he undoubtedly grasped the subtext of his friend’s words, “If the speed stays constant, how long will the ensuing night last?”

Taran El did not answer; he simply set down his tea cup and stared intensely at the papers in front of him. It looked as though he was trying to discern the future of the world or pry out a secret from an enemy from those papers. After a lengthily time, he managed a bitter smile and spread his hands at Ted.

“…I will make arrangements for the Guardians of Knowledge to be prepared,” Ted Riel quietly watched his friend for a moment before gently nodding, “We have contingency plans in place for unexpected lengthy darkness. The ‘Glowing Falling Object’ beside Light Breeze Harbor will also provide basic protection during the night. Things shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Yes, Light Breeze Harbor’s situation shouldn’t be too bad–other City-States not necessarily,” after a moment of silence, Taran El sighed softly, “Unlike the previous instances when the sun extinguished and different City-States ‘skipped over time,’ this time we’re facing a solar slowdown. All City-States are undergoing this world-class anomaly… I wonder how they will handle the prolonged night coming.”

“Every City-State has contingency plans for extreme scenarios, but how much can be accomplished is another matter… all we can do is wish for them, hoping the Four Gods will protect them.”

Ted’s voice was deeply resonant as he spoke and then shook his head, picking up the thick tome that recorded many miracles, seemingly about to open a portal and leave. But suddenly he hesitated, placed the book back, and with a sigh, turned and walked towards the door.

Taran quietly watched the back of the Truth Confidant as if seeing off a warrior ready for battle, until the figure vanished on the other side of the door. Only then did he avert his gaze, his eyes sweeping over the papers he had pushed aside earlier.

Among these papers, at the end of one page, a slightly trembling handwriting left a line by the observer–

“…according to current calculations… until sunset ends… seventy-two hours…”

Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, the golden sunset still lavishly covered the tiered rooftops of the City-State, splendid and magnificent.

And then, he heard the ethereal tolling of a bell.

The bells rang urgently, regularly repeating, as if calling out to everyone who heard them, calling them to listen to the proclamation before nightfall–

Deep within the grand cathedral, as Archbishop Valentin was discussing with Governor Dante Wayne how to handle the sun anomaly, he suddenly stopped and turned his ear to the sudden peal of the bells.

Sitting opposite Valentin, Governor Wayne immediately raised his head, “Your Excellency? What has happened?”

Valentin waved his hand gently and after a moment of hesitation, replied, “The swift bells.”

“The swift bells?” Dante’s face changed slightly, and although he was not a clergy member, due to Fenna’s connections, he knew quite a bit about church-related matters and naturally understood what “the swift bells” were, “Then…”

However, Valentin shook his head, “No, let us continue, Governor.”

“…Are you not going to respond to the ‘swift bells’ summons?”

“Do not respond,” Valentin said slowly, as if recalling many things momentarily, but ultimately, he shook his head, “That is an order.”

Do not respond to the bells, do not respond to the Tomb of the Nameless King, do not respond to the calls of the Tomb Guardian–

The bells still repeatedly rang out, in every city-state, every cathedral, aboard every ship, and in the minds of every clergy who worshipped the Four Gods, urgent and repetitive tolling sounded time and again.

The priests unanimously stopped their tasks at the instant the bells rang, yet after a brief pause, everyone returned to their tense, busy work–continuing to receive and comfort the believers seeking help, continuing to maintain the Holy Artifacts and the cathedral, and continuing to prepare blessings for the warriors to face what may be a very prolonged nightfall.

The bell sounds, like a breeze by the ear and distant ocean waves, echoed in far-off places, yet no priests responded to its call…

And in that far-off dimension, shrouded in ancient, chaotic darkness, the last stationed community of ascetics was quietly watching the center of the square.

Huge towering stone pillars surrounded the gathering place, chaotic streams of light flashed across the somber sky, the austere pale pyramid tomb rose from the center of the square, in the desolate, abandoned center of the gathering place, the Tomb Guardian, wrapped in bandages and seemingly forever between life and death, stepped out and stood in the empty square.

However, unlike the past centuries, now no holy men stood here. The Tomb Guardian held parchment in his hand, yet no one came forward to listen to the messages from within the tomb.

The ascetics stood at a safe distance from the center of the square, their bodies tattooed with runes symbolizing the blessings of the Four Gods. Their eyes and ears sealed by curses, they sensed the condition of the tomb through divine miracles granted, all to avoid directly witnessing the Tomb Guardian or hearing his voice.

The Tomb Guardian stepped forth, a massive shadow growing behind him, indescribable limbs and twisted figures spreading like undulating mud along his steps toward those ascetics, extending a hand with parchment, from which trembling eyes continually emerged. Opening his corrupted, deformed mouth, he called out to the vigilant ascetics–

His voice was like ten thousand desecrating, polluting curses, each tremor carrying a force that gouged at the heart, destroying the mind.

The vigilant ascetics just stood quietly outside the range of the tomb, like statues, silently “watching” the guardian of the tomb.

They could make no response, engage in no communication, yet they could not leave their post.

The formless, bizarre, writhing shadow slowly calmed down after a prolonged confrontation. The Tomb Guardian lowered his head, his murky eyes looking at the parchment in his hands. After a long silence, he slowly turned and walked toward the tomb.

Layers of deep murmurs emanated from the tomb; the low whispers of the Tomb Guardian and the voices coming from within gradually merged.

He muttered softly, repeating over and over–

“Dusk has arrived…”