Chapter 322: Revisiting the Old Place by Opening the Mystery Box Again

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As Agatha expressed her undisguised contempt for the Annihilation cultists, the old caretaker’s expression remained mostly unchanged—his focus was still on the latest intelligence. The “samples” taken from the cemetery... in the laboratory, they demonstrated properties akin to the “primal essence” described by the heretical cultists.

No matter how insane and misguided the heretics were, and regardless of how their warped theories defied morality, as a member of the Orthodox Church, the old caretaker had to comprehend the heretics’ information, their fanatical doctrines, and their highly tainted knowledge system. At the heart of the Annihilation cultists’ entire heretical system was one thing: The shadowy Nether Lord and the various “miracles” he created.

The Annihilation cultists firmly believed that the world, now blessed by the gods, was not a “peaceful paradise” but a deeply corroded and twisted “land of exiles” at its core. They believed that the real world’s prosperity was an illusion crafted by the gods and that the true destination of human souls and the “untarnished real world” was not here but in the depths of the world—the Abyss Realm.

Based on this belief, they considered the Nether Lord and the demons to represent the purest, most primal, and uncontaminated state of the world. They thought that humans could only “return” to the Abyss Realm and regain their original purity by purifying their tainted flesh.

However, the mortal world was sealed by the gods, and there was a barrier between the “distorted real world” and the “true real world (the Abyss Deep Sea).” The flesh and blood of mortals represented this barrier. As long as human souls were trapped in this shell and continuously subjected to “contamination” throughout their lives, they could not return to the Abyss Realm.

Therefore, the Nether Lord would bestow a miracle called the “primal essence”—the heretics believed that this sacred substance was the foundation of everything at the beginning of the world. The blueprint for the “real world” was hidden in the microscopic scale of the “primal essence.” Only the “primal essence” could counteract the curse in the flesh and blood of mortals and bring them back to the “pure state of their birth.”

As for the substance called “primal essence,” the Annihilation cultists described it like this:

“... it will display all the characteristics of everything in the world and will always be in a constant cycle of evolution. It represents all the plans and blueprints of the Nether Lord when shaping reality. Shortsighted mortals can never measure any accurate nature of the primal essence...”

The old caretaker abruptly looked up, staring into Agatha’s eyes: “...So that is the ‘primal essence’?”

Agatha replied without hesitation: “The primal essence is just nonsense from those heretics. It’s likely just a new substance that we can’t explain with our current knowledge system. Its property changes may be a natural phenomenon or perhaps some extraordinary power, but it can’t be a ‘miracle’ bestowed by the Nether Lord.”

However, faced with such an answer, the old caretaker’s expression didn’t change at all, still quietly gazing into the gatekeeper’s eyes: “But do you believe that is the ‘primal essence’?”

Confronted with the question a second time, Agatha finally fell silent for a brief moment. After two or three seconds, she let out a gentle sigh, “I must admit, at least in terms of properties... the samples we brought back do match the description provided by those heretics.”

The old caretaker looked up, gazing at the distant morgue. The fine snow had grown larger after nightfall, with snowflakes continuously falling from the dark night sky. Staves stood in the dim cemetery, their lanterns at the top illuminating the surrounding scattered snowflakes, as if adding a hazy texture to everything.

His gaze, however, went through these scattered snowflakes and lights, landing on an empty autopsy table not far away. There was once a unique corpse placed there.

Although this time he was not affected by the incense, his clairvoyance didn’t spiral out of control, and he even took a potion to resist spiritual contamination in advance. However, the psychological shadow from the last “contact” was severe, making the experienced old soldier extremely cautious.

“...Did you just arrive?” After calming down a bit, the old caretaker finally broke the silence.

“I’ve been here since you started discussing that essence thing,” Duncan’s voice came from the coffin, “I felt like I heard some interesting information—but you suddenly stopped talking.”

Agatha looked up, puzzled, and exchanged glances with the old caretaker.

Her lips moved slightly, but her voice went directly into the old caretaker’s mind: “Is this visitor... really so approachable?”

The old caretaker shrugged, also moving his lips slightly: “How would I know?”

The two church officials briefly communicated before Agatha gestured gently to their surroundings, signaling the guardians to step back.

Duncan had actually sensed the atmosphere around him from inside the coffin long before. He had been lying there for more than a few minutes, listening patiently and curiously since the old caretaker and the young woman started discussing the “essence”. Now, feeling the atmosphere dissipating, he casually said with a smile, “There are quite a few people here tonight.”

“...We mean no offense,” Agatha immediately responded cautiously, as she could not yet determine the origins of this “visitor.” But at least the other party had not shown any initial hostility, so being polite was the first step in dealing with a superior, non-hostile “god-like” existence, “The arrangements here are just to protect our own sanity.”

“Oh, I understand. People often start talking to me and suddenly go crazy. To be honest, it’s quite troublesome,” Duncan’s voice carried a hint of amusement, “It’s good that you know how to protect yourselves.”

Agatha furrowed her brow.

She had dealt with many supernatural beings before, some of which were extremely malicious or chaotic and dangerous, but this was the first time she had ever encountered one that was chatting with her so casually.

“May we know who... you are?” After a moment’s hesitation, she finally mustered the courage to ask.

Duncan pondered seriously inside the coffin.

Then he recalled the glorious achievement of the Vanished dragging the thirteen islands of Witherland into subspace and the connection between the thirteen islands and the Death Church.

“Just an unnamed traveler. Don’t be curious about my name—it’s better for both of us.”