Chapter 452: All Things Permissible

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Fifty years ago, a project known as the Frost Queen’s Abyss was launched with the ambitious aim to identify and resolve the issue of mysterious metal ores located beneath the city-state. For decades, the ruling governors had been passing down arcane knowledge that included secrets about the ores, revelations about the Frost Queen herself, tales of curses, and even the myths of an ancient god. A menacing force, known as the Nether Lord, had manifested itself within the boundaries of the city-state, creating a substantial projection that hollowed out a large area underground. The magnitude of these truths was staggering, to say the least.

However, for Duncan, all these shocking pieces of information seemed trivial compared to one mind-blowing claim: that the notion of an ‘ancient god’ invading the city-state was a fabricated imitation.

Vanna, who was a specialized judge in matters of heretical claims, clearly understood the gravity of this assertion. She looked with great seriousness at the giant pillar that appeared to support the entire underground cavern. After a thoughtful pause, she finally said, “There are two ways to interpret the term ‘forgery’ that Agatha just used. First, it’s possible that this object is indeed a remnant of what the so-called ‘Ancient God’ left behind when invading the city-state, and its origin is in the deep sea below us. That leads to two separate interpretations.”

Duncan nodded in agreement. “Exactly, two interpretations. The first possibility is that the ‘source’ at the sea bottom is real. From this perspective, the ‘corrosive body’ that has been projected from this source into the city-state could be viewed as a kind of illusion or decoy. The second possibility is a bit more complex.”

He took a moment, lifting his gaze to the colossal pillar that held up the entire underground space before finally exhaling.

“The second possibility is that the ‘source’ deep under the sea is also a fabrication. Agatha, at the very last moment, not only touched what are believed to be the ancient god’s tentacles in this cavern but also gleaned some understanding about what really lies beneath the sea. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to elaborate.”

A heavy silence filled the room. Alice, who had been listening intently but without full comprehension, finally broke the silence. She tugged on Duncan’s arm and said, “This all sounds rather terrifying, doesn’t it?”

Duncan chuckled lightly, his eyes twinkling with a sort of ironic amusement. “Yes, it’s a bit unclear which scenario is more frightening,” he said as he patted Alice’s hair, comforting her. She seemed uneasy, even though she didn’t fully grasp the situation. “You don’t need to worry too much. Whatever we’re facing won’t be more difficult than dealing with the Mirror Frost.”

“Just so long as we don’t allow the ‘source’ at the bottom of the sea to keep evolving,” Agatha added, her gaze meeting Duncan’s. “As you suggested earlier, we need to venture below Frost again to verify whether this ‘Ancient God’ is still a threat to our reality.”

Duncan hummed affirmatively, fully aware that Agatha was already making preparations for this daunting task. But then, something caught his attention—a flicker of light in Agatha’s right hand revealed what appeared to be a metallic object.

“Agatha, what do you have there in your hand?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“In my hand?” Agatha appeared momentarily puzzled as she raised her hand for a closer look, feeling an unfamiliar object resting in her palm. It was cold to the touch, yet seemed to have absorbed some warmth from her own body heat.

She found herself holding a uniquely shaped brass key.

“A key,” Vanna intoned, her eyes widening in surprise before a light of recognition flashed in them. “Ah, is this the key you were talking about earlier? The one last given by Governor Winston to another ‘Agatha’? Could this be the key left behind by the Frost Queen herself?”

Duncan’s eyes subtly shifted, clearly intrigued. “May I take a closer look?”

“Certainly.” Agatha handed the key to Duncan without a moment’s hesitation.

The key was certainly peculiar. Its handle was meticulously crafted into the shape of an “infinity” symbol. Unusually, it didn’t have the teeth or serrations one would expect; instead, it featured a cylindrical structure with grooves. It reminded Duncan of a winding key for a clockwork doll.

Guided by the eerie luminescence of the spiritual fire they had set along their path, the group retreated from the deep cavern. They stepped onto an elevator platform, which promptly lifted them back up to the mining passage situated above ground.

As they traversed the metal mine’s dimly lit corridors, Duncan turned to Agatha, curiosity etched on his face. “What are your preliminary thoughts about what lies beneath us?”

Agatha considered his question. “I intend to organize additional expeditions to better understand the cave’s topography, particularly the environs surrounding that immense, pillar-like structure. Should we stumble upon anything of significance, you will be the first to know. After we’ve gathered sufficient data,” she paused, choosing her words with deliberate care, “my recommendation would be for the city-state to initiate a metal ore extraction project. The challenge lies in devising a method that neither compromises the cave’s stability nor damages the ‘pillar.’ Ultimately, the execution of such an undertaking would fall to the experts at City Hall.”

Duncan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t harbor concerns about the potential risks of mining this metal ore? It could, after all, be a residue of ancient godly forces.”

“Survival of the city-state is our primary imperative,” Agatha replied softly, shaking her head. “That said, something did strike me during our expedition.”

“Do tell.”

“If it’s indeed the case that the metal ore beneath Frost is a byproduct of ancient godly influences, what does that imply about the geological safety of other city-states scattered across the Boundless Sea? Are their subterranean realms equally secure?”

A thoughtful silence descended upon them.

“Recall that after the mines were depleted in the time of the Queen, Frost sourced its metal ore from the mirror world for half a century,” Agatha continued. “We assumed, naturally, that this ore was as much a ‘forgery’ as everything else in that parallel dimension. Yet even after the mirror world’s dissolution, the ore persisted. We’ve just identified a new, rich vein in this very cave. This suggests the ore, rather than being ‘twisted’ or counterfeit, is something far more natural.”

“If the ore is a natural formation and not some perverse manifestation, then its existence resonates with the Annihilation Cult’s doctrine of their ‘God Creating the World,'” Duncan observed, his tone imbued with a subtle gravity.

“Indeed, the mere suggestion borders on heresy,” Agatha conceded with calm assurance.

“You appear quite steadfast in your stance.”

Agatha paused, her head slowly rising. Even though a black blindfold veiled her eyes, it was as if her gaze managed to transcend it, settling resolutely on the path that lay ahead of them.

At the tunnel’s end, daylight spilled in—a warm, radiant flood of sunshine. Though in Agatha’s sensory world, everything remained as frigid as a crypt, she knew, somewhere beyond her perceptions, the sun was warmly shining.

At the tunnel’s conclusion, the surface exit of the mine came into view, framed like a picture at the end of a long, dark gallery. Through that aperture, bright sunlight cascaded inward, splashing the walls of the tunnel with its golden, inviting glow. It seemed as though the world outside was promising warmth and radiance, a stark contrast to the dank and mysterious underground they were leaving behind.

Yet, for Agatha, whose perceptions were shaded by her own unique sensitivities, the world continued to feel like an unyielding, cold place—a place as chilling and lifeless as a tomb. She didn’t feel the sun’s embrace or its radiant touch, but she intellectually recognized its presence. She knew that for others, the sunlight was a welcoming caress, a natural tapestry woven of warmth and light.

With her hands gently clasped together over her chest in a pose reminiscent of prayer, Agatha leaned closer to Duncan and whispered, “As I’ve mentioned earlier, the first and foremost priority is the survival of the city-state. In this world, heresy can only be defined in one way: as any belief or action that threatens our collective existence. Outside of that, all other beliefs, no matter how unconventional or controversial, must be permissible.”

Her tone was imbued with the gravity of a devout priestess, her words echoing in the narrow space as if reaching for some greater cosmic understanding, affirming that survival itself sanctifies all means to achieve it.