Chapter 257: Courteous

The urgent bell rang rapidly, sounding seven short rings in succession, followed by a brief pause and another seven rings before repeating this pattern thrice.

Tyrian listened closely to the sounds coming through the window. He could hear conversations echoing in the corridor and hurried footsteps from the open space. These were the commotions caused by the senior priests running around to establish protection at crucial spots for the night watch. At the same time, the highest-ranking individual in the cathedral should have already retreated to a hidden sanctuary, getting ready to participate in the saints’ gathering.

Although Tyrian wasn’t a church member, he had lived for half a century and was well-acquainted with its rules. He could deduce vital information from the frequency and repetition of the bell sounds. It signaled a “listening” assembly, an invitation sent directly from the Tomb of the Nameless King, and it seemed quite urgent.

“Could there be an issue with an anomaly or a vision? Is it a new discovery, or has an old one changed significantly?” Lucretia pondered aloud, “It feels like it hasn’t been long since the last ‘call’...”

Tyrian listened to the commotion outside for a while longer before refocusing his attention and shaking his head, “This is the Storm Church’s own affair; we don’t need to interfere.”

“Mhm,” Lucretia nodded gently, then looked at her brother, “Do you have any more questions about Anomaly 099?”

Tyrian considered for a moment and shook his head, “No, that’s all. Besides, with the urgent bell ringing this evening, the cathedral will soon enter a state of night watch, so it’s best not to continue discussing matters related to anomalies.”

“Alright, then I’ll carry on with my own tasks,” Lucretia promptly said. The crystal ball on the table began to flicker slightly, and her figure started to fade. But just before the connection was severed entirely, she recalled something and suddenly said, “Oh, there’s one more thing, about our father.”

Tyrian hesitated slightly, “Go ahead.”

“Did he appear... normal when he came to see you this time?”

“He was very lucid, clear-headed, and even somewhat...” Tyrian hesitated but ultimately continued, “I can’t be certain, but he seemed almost affectionate.”

“Ah, that’s good.”

...

Vanna rushed into the cathedral and spotted Bishop Valentine already waiting for her in front of the goddess’s statue. She hurriedly approached and asked, “Why is there another call so soon? This has never happened before.”

“I don’t know, but this time the bell ringing is directly controlled by the Storm Cathedral, so it must have a reason,” Valentine nodded at Vanna, and as they walked toward the passage leading to the “Flooded Cave,” he spoke quickly, “Like last time, it might be due to direct changes in the list of anomalies and visions, with the tomb keeper sending out a summons.”

Vanna followed the elderly bishop’s footsteps. As she passed the statue of the goddess, she hesitated for a moment but soon bowed respectfully as she had always done before continuing toward the passage’s entrance.

Before long, they were at the flooded cave used for constructing the “psychic channel.”

The scene in the secret chamber remained unchanged, with the ancient stone walls perpetually damp and the fire basin in the center burning with an ethereal flame. It’s tranquil in here, masterfully created by the sounds of trickling water and echoing waves.

Then, the door to the secret chamber slammed shut.

Wrapped in burial cloth, with half of its body burned and the other half entwined in chains, the horrifying creature made of flesh, steel, and deadly curses strode straight towards the saints gathered in the square, just as it had the previous time.

The chosen one had been decided.

The next moment, without any hesitation, it bypassed every shadow in the square and stopped directly in front of Vanna.

The tomb guardian lowered its head, its single eye calmly staring at the saint before it: “You may enter the tomb.”

It raised its hand, offering a quill and parchment, awaiting Vanna’s response.

Vanna was stunned—as were almost all of the saints.

The tomb guardian had chosen the same saint to enter the tomb twice in a row!

This had never happened in the past thousand years!

Of course, there were no explicit “rules” preventing the tomb guardian from choosing the same saint consecutively. However, over the years, the guardian had always chosen different saints to enter the tomb during nearby assemblies, which had become an unwritten “rule.” Even if a saint who had previously entered the tomb attended the assembly again, it was merely to follow orders and ensure the completeness of the “listening” ritual.

No one expected Vanna to be chosen again.

Vanna hesitated for several seconds, and the tomb guardian patiently waited with an outstretched hand. At that moment, she felt someone’s gaze again. The lady instinctively followed the sensation, only to meet Pope Helena’s deep eyes.

Vanna’s heart tightened, and she guiltily looked away, only then noticing that the tomb guardian was still waiting. The ancient, seemingly terrifying guardian calmly lowered its head and extended the parchment and quill a little further.

“Me again?”

Vanna asked subconsciously but immediately regretted it—why would the tomb guardian answer such an irrelevant question?

However, she then heard a hoarse, low voice coming from in front of her: “Yes, you again.”

Vanna was taken aback, and she looked up at the tomb guardian’s slightly fearsome face before taking the parchment and quill.

The tomb guardian seemed to nod slightly and said as it straightened up, “Please write what you heard on it.”

Vanna nodded instinctively but suddenly felt that something was amiss.

It seemed... that the tomb guardian had become considerably more courteous?