The visitor left as suddenly as he had arrived.
The old guard of the cemetery was a little dazed. He looked at the direction where the flame dissipated, but his mind was still filled with a lot of information revealed by the other party in the brief conversation just now. It was not until Annie beside him grabbed his sleeve that the old man suddenly woke up.
He lowered his head and saw Anne looking at him uneasily. In addition to helplessness, there was also tension and confusion in the girl's eyes.
Perhaps she already understood the separation of life and death, but she still couldn't fully comprehend what had just happened.
The old guard bent over, his old and stiff joints slightly aching in this cold winter. He reached out and patted the snowflakes on Annie's shoulder: "Annie, don't be afraid, nothing bad will happen."
"Grandpa who's in charge..." The girl's lips moved. She was trying to organize the words as much as possible, but she didn't know where to start. "The man just now..."
"Don't ask too many questions, don't think too much, just like the textbook says, don't pry into the knowledge that is not open to mortals - you just need to know that it was a visitor, he had no ill will towards you, and now he has left, your connection with him ends here."
"Then my father..."
"Your father may have done great things - beyond all of our imagination," the old guard said softly, reaching out to touch the girl's hair. "Annie, don't worry, he is no longer wandering on the sea, he has gone to a better place. Go back and tell your mother, she has been waiting for this news for a long time."
Annie pursed her lips and hesitated for a long time before she whispered to confirm: "Is it true this time?"
"It's true," the old guard laughed, "You are no longer a six-year-old child."
Anne nodded as if she understood, then said goodbye to the old caretaker of the cemetery. She turned around and walked towards the path leading to the neighborhood, following the tire tracks that had not yet frozen into ice, slowly heading towards home, slowly blending into the snow-covered background of the city.
In front of the entrance to the cemetery, the old guard looked in the direction of the path for a long time. Only when he saw Anne's figure disappear at the intersection did he breathe a sigh of relief.
The child did not fall this time.
Then he raised his hand and gently pressed something in his pocket - a letter that seemed to contain countless secrets was lying there quietly.
This letter comes from an indescribable visitor. The seemingly ordinary material may also carry unimaginable knowledge and mysteries. What does this letter mean?
The old guard's eyes gradually became serious. He turned and returned to the cemetery, waving behind him. The heavy iron fence gate creaked closed.
The cemetery will not be open today.
※※※
Agatha looked at the shattered fragments on the ground with a serious expression. The cold wind blowing in from the alley blew her long hair, and the cold air kept seeping into the gaps between clothes and bandages. The bone-chilling cold air seemed to still solidify the fear and despair of the two Annihilation Cultists at their last moments.
Several black-clad guards were busy nearby. The team that had come here to deal with the scene had blocked the entrance and exit of the alley, and there were also people investigating clues in several nearby alleys - the evidence collection work was proceeding in an orderly manner, but Agatha's confusion had not diminished so far.
What kind of power can turn a person into pieces like a porcelain doll?
So far, no known divine or heretical spell can produce this effect. Even the various spells used by the deep demons do not have this strange phenomenon.
The young gatekeeper raised his cane and poked one of the fragments with the end of the tin cane. The pale, porcelain-like fragment rolled on the ground, making a crisp sound.
When it was flipped over, it revealed about half of a face, including lips, nose and one eye.
Even though it was incomplete, it clearly captured the cultist's fearful expression at the moment of his death.
And... a strange smile?
Agatha frowned. She could see that the lips on the ceramic fragment had a suspicious curve, as if a peaceful and serene smile was about to appear but was frozen - and this subtle curve and the fear in that eye appeared on the same face at the same time, which made it look even more weird and terrifying.
After pondering for a moment, she shook her head and walked towards another "scene" deeper in the alley.
A pile of almost charred wreckage was piled up in the alley. Traces of fierce fighting and explosions could be seen around the wreckage, and the affected area was large, but the course of the battle was obviously overwhelming - at the same time, it was a completely different fighting style from the pile of debris at the entrance of the alley.
A priest who was inspecting the scene stood up from the wreckage and nodded to Agatha while taking off his gloves. "A deeply purified Annihilation Priest, judging by the degree of his flesh and blood distortion, is quite powerful. Theoretically, even if he encountered a full twelve-man Guardian team, he could have fought back and broken through. But he was quickly dealt with - and there was almost no sign of a counterattack."
Agatha frowned slightly: "Can you tell where his opponent comes from?"
The priest shook his head. "The simplest and most brutal way of attack, pure force, makes it difficult to determine the identity of the other party. However, we found some traces of abnormal condensation of water vapor nearby. This may be the only clue."
"Condensation... is there only this little trace?" Agatha said softly, and looked back at the direction of the alley. "Two completely different fighting styles."
"Yes, one is simple and brutal, the other is strange and dangerous. The common point is that they are both very powerful. The heretics at the priest level have no chance to fight back at all," the priest nodded and said, "The only good news is that they are obviously enemies of the Annihilation Sect."
"The enemy of our enemy is not necessarily our friend," Agatha shook her head. "Besides, they obviously have a tendency to act in secret. They are unwilling to show up, which in itself is worthy of vigilance."
She paused for a moment and then asked, "What about the investigation of the surrounding residents?"
"Nearby residents heard the noise of the battle, but most of them did not dare to peek in. We could only judge the time and duration of the battle from their words - it happened around 1 a.m. and lasted less than three minutes."
"That's all? What else?"
"There is no more news for the time being," the pastor spread out his hands. "I have arranged for people to investigate the situation door to door, including the alleys farther away, to see if there are any reports of witnesses of strangers. However, Fireplace Street is a large block, and I don't think there will be any results in a short time."
Just then, a hurried sound of footsteps suddenly came from the side, interrupting the conversation between Agatha and the pastor.
A guard with short brown hair walked quickly into the alley, came to the pastor and quickly reported the situation.
"Inside the building?" After listening to his subordinates' report, the priest immediately frowned and looked up at the building diagonally across the alley.
Seeing this, Agatha immediately asked, "What's going on?"
"Something was discovered in the house at number 42," the priest said immediately. "There is a Senjin woman who was attacked by a supernatural force and fell into a coma. In addition, a room contaminated by a strange object was found on the second floor of the house."
※※※
In Cemetery No. 3, in the guardhouse, the old guard carefully locked the door, then came to the desk in the corner with a serious expression.
He had instructed the guards outside to keep watch near the cabin and to provide adequate protection for the open space around the house - but it was not enough.
After arriving at the desk, he took out items such as incense, essential oils, candles, and herbal powders from the drawer and began to set up a powerful altar.
He lit the candles at a specific location, added essential oils and herbal powders to them, blessed the entire desk with the scent of incense, placed the incense burner in the middle of the candlesticks, and constructed it according to the symbolism of the altar - he prepared all of this skillfully, and every move seemed to have been rehearsed thousands of times.
This is the quality a veteran should have.
A few minutes later, the altar was completed.
The old guard exhaled lightly, looking at the pale flames burning on the candlesticks and the thin incense smoke that condensed above the table like a substance. He could feel that the power of Bartok, the god of death, had briefly descended into this hut. The power of blessing lingered around the desk, stabilizing the order of time and space here, and also stabilizing his own spirit.
To come into contact with ineffable knowledge, no preparation is too rigorous or too complicated.
He sat down slowly, finished a prayer in his heart, and then solemnly took out the letter from his pocket.
The old man examined the cover of the letter.
This was something that the unspeakable visitor had given to him. He had asked him to pass it on to the gatekeeper Agatha, but he also said that it would be enough as long as the message could be delivered to the Frost Cathedral - he did not say that no one else was allowed to open the letter.
If you just need to convey a message, you can read it yourself and then relay it.
After all, the graveyard wardens were the first line of defense to the cathedral.
The old man breathed a sigh of relief and was fully prepared. He picked up the letter opener beside him and carefully opened the seemingly ordinary cover.
A folded piece of letter slipped out of the envelope.
With an unprecedented solemn expression and a resolute determination that was almost like martyrdom, the old guard slowly unfolded the letter paper -
The three big words "Report Letter" came into view.
Old guard: “……?”