Chapter 341: Three Questions and Answers

Chapter 341: Three Questions and Answers

The words that slipped from the gatekeeper’s lips held a potency that was palpable, resonating in the air with an imposing force. As she let her tin staff slam against the ground, the resultant echo was like a peal of thunder, making its way layer by layer into the cryptic and tumultuous depths of the spiritual realm.

In the blink of an eye, the silent “whisperers,” whose presence had filled the room, ceased their murmuring, once again succumbing to silence. However, after a few moments of this quiet, a low, distant rumble began to permeate the atmosphere, suggesting the approach of some massive, lumbering entity.

The gatekeeper, Agatha, lifted her hand to adjust her eyeball, shifting her gaze toward the origin of the noise. There, a window stood, its view obstructed by layers of wooden planks, where a pale glow eked out through the narrow gaps between them. Suddenly, the subtle glow flickered, then dimmed dramatically as if a gargantuan being had positioned itself outside the window.

In the next heartbeat, the wooden planks barring the window spontaneously splintered, and countless pieces of the grayish-black wood cascaded silently, only to suspend in the air near the window as if trapped in suspended animation. From beyond the broken window, a behemoth made its appearance.

Draped in a black robe that symbolized the grim nature of death, the giant’s frame was swathed in bandages beneath the robe. Only its eyes, emitting a soft, yellow glow, were visible. The size of the giant was truly astounding as it stood next to the building, its stature comparable to a house’s height. Then, it hunched slightly, bringing its impassive bandaged head level with the opening on the second floor. A hand was raised, displaying three extended fingers toward Agatha.

“Three questions and answers,” the colossal figure intoned with a voice that boomed like thunder.

Agatha hesitated slightly at the sight of the gigantic figure before her. This entity was different from the familiar gatekeeper she often communicated with – it had a far more imposing physique. This figure was obviously a higher-ranking envoy. Why would such a powerful being respond to her summoning?

Quickly though, she pushed her doubts aside – all envoys were servants of Bartok, the god of death, so it was unnecessary for her to probe further. Her priority at that moment was to ascertain what had transpired there.

“I am in search of the soul that was last present in this room,” she said, her staff indicating an empty table nearby. “It might have been tainted, but now its location is unknown.”

“That soul has departed and entered the realm of repose. A formidable force has absolved it of its debts, and it no longer suffers from contamination,” boomed the voice of the Death Messenger from outside the window. Following this proclamation, it retracted one finger, signifying two questions remained.

Agatha momentarily hesitated, her attention drawn to the phrase “formidable force” in the messenger’s declaration. She rapidly assessed her situation before launching her second question, “Who wields this formidable force? Who has wiped clean the soul’s debts?”

“The Usurper of Fire,” declared the messenger, his eyes, aglow with an obscure yellow light, flickered momentarily as if issuing a tacit warning. As the echo of his words dwindled, he retracted another of his extended fingers.

The words “Usurper of Fire” made Agatha’s head reel. She felt an unanticipated rush of dizziness as she realized she had brushed up against knowledge buried deep within the world’s layers, a knowledge previously unbeknownst to mortals.

However, Agatha managed to retain her composure. Conversing with the gatekeeper from the “other realm” and occasionally stumbling upon potentially perilous knowledge was part and parcel of her existence. Despite her relative youth, she had experience in navigating these waters. Furthermore, the fact that the messenger outside the window had chosen to divulge this term to her indicated she was deemed capable of grappling with it.

If it were a truly forbidden inquiry, the messenger would have surely issued a clear warning.

With her resolve fortified, Agatha steadied herself, inhaled softly, and proceeded to voice her third question, “Who is the Usurper of Fire?”

Pushing her thoughts aside, Agatha made a beeline for the first floor, where she found Garloni, who had stirred from her unconscious state.

The formidable woman, her skin resembling stone in terms of toughness, sat ensconced on the sofa, cradling a cup of soothing herbal tea brewed by the priest himself. She stared absently at the tea table before her, only registering Agatha’s presence when she sat opposite her and gently rapped the table. Slowly, Garloni began to regain her senses.

“Hello, my name is Agatha, you should recognize me,” said the young gatekeeper, scrutinizing the woman opposite her with a keen eye, “Do you recall what happaned?”

“I... my name is Garloni,” replied the female apprentice clutching the herbal tea, her voice faintly slurred and her gaze still somewhat vacant, as if she had yet to completely rouse from her sleep. “I apologize, Gatekeeper, my mind is still in a fog. I feel as though I’ve had an incredibly prolonged dream wherein I was incessantly solving mathematical problems, proving them time and again. I’ve never experienced such fatigue, even when I amalgamate all my educational experiences from childhood to my adult years...”

“Solving math problems?” Agatha’s surprise was evident, but she quickly composed herself to ask more pointedly, “Do you recollect how you descended into such profound slumber? Prior to that, did you encounter anyone unusual or undertake any peculiar activities?”

Garloni’s brow knit in concentration as she strained to summon the memories, but after an agonizingly long half-minute, she apologized and shook her head, “I’m sorry, I don’t remember. In fact, I have no recollection of anything since yesterday afternoon. If not for these guardians reminding me, I wouldn’t even be aware that an incident had occurred at my residence.”

Agatha’s features mirrored Garloni’s furrowed brow.

Memory obliteration, deep sleep, and “solving math problems” – these suggested the workings of the clergy of the God of Wisdom.

But why would the clergy of the God of Wisdom, one of the four primary deities, resort to such actions?

They were not heretics.

The events of the day seemed to be piling up in a jumble of perplexing puzzles, and a faint headache began to prick at Agatha’s temples.

The unexplained and suspicious combat traces in the alleyways outside, the rising cultist activities in the city-state, the “elements” and suspect accidents in the mines, the peculiar happenings in this house, and the messages from the emissaries of death...

“Excuse me,” Garloni interjected apprehensively, her eyes glued on the young gatekeeper before her. Despite Agatha’s youth, Garloni couldn’t shake off an uneasy feeling, “Is my teacher alright?”

“Your teacher?” Agatha echoed, bemused.

“He should be upstairs, his name is Scott Brown,” Garloni hastened to explain, “When I woke, I was somewhat disoriented and forgot to mention it. He requires some solitude and tranquility...”

Agatha found herself rooted to the spot in stunned shock.