Vanna returned to the archives again.
Although she herself didn't know why she came back here, an inexplicable sense of disharmony and crisis seemed to be an invisible shadow chasing her, making her subconsciously recall the details of searching for information in the archives, and she always felt that she seemed to have forgotten something.
Of course, another reason for her to return to the archives was that there was nowhere else to go anyway.
Due to the increasing connection with the Lost Homeland, she is now actually under a state of round-the-clock surveillance - she is still the inquisitor of the Pland City-State, but this is only because no one can replace her important duties at the moment, so except for necessary attendance, she must stay in the cathedral all the time.
The encounter with "Captain Duncan" in the dream was anxiety-provoking, and the clues found in the small church in the Sixth Block also made her uneasy. In the quiet and sacred archives, she could more or less block out the surrounding gazes and interference and let herself breathe a sigh of relief.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the empty archives. Row after row of bookshelves that were so tall that they reached the ceiling stood quietly in the sight like giants. Those ancient files were quietly sleeping on the bookshelves, overlooking the young judge who was passing by in the aisle.
Vanna raised her head and looked at the bookshelves that continued to extend within her sight. She once again recalled the last time she searched for information here. A middle-aged priest in charge of managing the archives followed quietly not far behind her. The lantern in the priest's hand emitted a warm and soft light.
Entering the archives, searching for data from 1889, I found suspicious traces of heretical sacrifices. Using this as a clue, I expanded my search and found records of heretical sacrifices from 1889. Finally, I noticed the abnormality of the disappearance of the corresponding files in 1885...
These memories were sorted out in her mind over and over again. Vanna could no longer remember how many times she had recalled these things. They were so clearly presented in her mind at this moment, flawless from beginning to end, without any trace of omission or distortion.
But Fanna's brows frowned little by little.
The young inquisitor suddenly stopped, and the middle-aged priest following behind her also stopped.
"Your Excellency, Judge?" The middle-aged man's voice sounded from behind.
Something is wrong, something is wrong... I was definitely not alone when I came to look for information, there must be someone accompanying me... but who was it?
Vanna seemed not to hear the voice behind her. She just frowned and thought hard. She thought of the small church in the sixth block and the nun who died in the battle in 1885. The church disappeared from everyone's sight. Even Bishop Valentine had forgotten its existence for many years. This was a very similar situation...
I have also experienced similar "forgetfulness". Everyone has forgotten the same thing, so I cannot detect the gaps in my memory, and no one else can remind me... But what exactly did I forget, and when did I start forgetting it?
"Your Excellency, Judge?" The middle-aged priest's voice came from behind again.
Vanna felt the power of the storm gathering, and the middle-aged priest's hand had quietly approached her waist.
"How long have you been an administrator here?" Vanna suddenly said.
The power of the storm dissipated, and the middle-aged priest put his hands down again, lowering his head slightly: "Seven years - I have been here since I retired."
"You shouldn't be the only administrator here, right?" Vanna asked again.
"There are two, and there is also a lady older than me who is in charge of the night watch and is also a retired member of the Guardians."
As if chatting, Vanna continued to walk slowly between the bookshelves and casually said, "Can two people... handle it?"
"It's not too busy. There's not much for an archives administrator to do. The guards are the sentries, and the servants and trainee monks are responsible for the transportation and sorting. We only need to handle the creation and retrieval of files. Most of the information here is not moved after it is stored, so the workload is very small," the middle-aged priest explained seriously. "It's just that the position of administrator requires staying in the library for a long time and being surrounded by books, so it must be done by a strong-willed and experienced priest. No matter how small the workload is, it is important."
At this point, the middle-aged priest paused and added, "Of course, after all, there are only two of us. Once we encounter a special situation, it will still be troublesome. I have always thought that it is better to add one more person. It is more reasonable for three people to take turns."
"Three people working in shifts..." Vanna muttered to herself, and then asked, "The files from 1885 are still not found?"
"Yes, we still haven't found it," the middle-aged priest shook his head. "After you mentioned the abnormal situation here, we organized a team to check the entire archives. We mobilized hundreds of servants and novice monks, but found nothing."
Vanna hummed and said no more. She just stood quietly in front of one of the bookshelves, lost in thought. Her silence made the priest behind her nervous.
Fanna noticed the other party's nervousness, smiled and shook her head: "Don't worry so much, I just met with the ghost captain once, I'm not unconscious yet, and there are countless eyes and detection devices watching inside and outside the archives. If I notice anything unusual, I will give the first warning - I still have this professionalism."
"Please forgive me," the middle-aged priest sighed, "I have seen too many comrades disappear from this world forever due to a carelessness."
Vanna didn't say anything. Her eyes looked towards the end of the bookshelf, where the archivist usually stayed. She walked around the large bookshelves and returned to the entrance.
In a trance, she seemed to see a slightly hunched figure sitting there.
The young Inquisitor's eyes suddenly widened.
The figure disappeared.
The middle-aged priest noticed something: "Your Excellency the Inquisitor, what did you find?"
"Maybe I saw it wrong... No, let's go over and take a look."
Fanna said hurriedly, and without waiting for the other party's response, she walked forward. She walked faster and faster, and finally she almost ran to the side of the huge curved table in a few steps, and then looked carefully at the table which contained a large number of complicated mechanisms.
There was no one at the table, and the few items on it were clearly visible.
Vanna walked around the table and looked it up and down.
She suddenly saw something out of the corner of her eye - a few scattered small parts, casually discarded behind a baffle on the edge of the table. The parts were rusted and looked as if they had been discarded for who knows how many years, and judging from their outline... it seemed to be part of a mechanical Rubik's Cube.
For some reason, the moment she saw these parts, Vanna seemed to smell a strange smell... It smelled like incense mixed with machine grease, and the pungent smell of something burnt.
The middle-aged priest holding a lantern also followed, curiously looking in the direction Vanna was looking, and asked in confusion: "Who threw these things here?"
"There are traces on the table." Vanna had already found some other clues next to those parts. They looked like some oil stains, but upon closer inspection, they seemed to be conscious pictures.
She felt her heart pounding, and there seemed to be a harsh noise echoing repeatedly in her head. Even the edge of her vision began to tremble, and it seemed as if there was a fire burning and jumping between the swaying lights and shadows. However, these extremely uncomfortable feelings did not cause panic. Instead, they made her feel a little excited - her spirituality was beating, she was observing and contacting extraordinary traces, and the clue she was looking for... was indeed in this archive!
Silently chanting the name of the storm goddess Gemona in her heart, Vanna reached out her hand and said, "Help me with the lantern."
The middle-aged priest immediately handed over the "Administrator Lantern" that was protected by runes and used holy oil as fuel: "Here you go."
Vanna took the lantern and carefully brought the light close to the table with the oil stains. Under the light, it seemed that some fine smoke or mist appeared out of thin air and quickly faded away. Between the light and shadow brought by the flame, she finally saw the "stain" clearly.
It was dark red blood, as if a dying person had used his trembling fingers to draw a mark on the table with his own blood. It looked like a bonfire, with a cylindrical object standing in the center.
It was not any sacred symbol used by the Deep Sea Church, nor was it any blessing from the storm goddess Gemona.
Yet Vanna still recognized the symbol—it was the mark of the Firebringer.
Firebringer? Why did the Firebringer's mark appear in the church of the Deep Sea Church?
Fanna was confused. Although the four righteous gods were indeed in the same camp and the four churches had many cooperative relationships, their belief systems were different after all. The sacred symbols of their respective sects, which were highly symbolic, would not appear in the sanctuaries of other churches under normal circumstances. But why... would the mark of the Fire Bearer appear here?
The Firebearer... the small church in the sixth block... the forgotten people, the forgotten things, another Pland hidden beneath the real world...
Vanna's breathing suddenly became a little rapid, and at this moment, she finally understood.
This symbol is a warning, the only message left to reality by a guardian who has been forgotten by everyone on his lonely battlefield.
“Someone is polluting history!”
The young inquisitor suddenly exclaimed loudly and turned abruptly to look at the middle-aged priest following behind him.
The archives were empty.
It was as if she was the only one here from the very beginning.