The towering figure disappeared into the clouds.

The wind is returning to calm, the smoke of gunpowder will take time to fade away, and after the shadows fade away, a scarred city-state is left behind.

"There is a survivor here too! It's a little girl!"

A slightly excited shout broke the silence in the cemetery. A guardian warrior opened the door of the guard hut and found the girl curled up in the hut.

The cold wind blew into the room from outside, mixed with the smell of gunpowder. Anne looked up dazedly at the black-clad guard who appeared at the door. In a trance, she seemed to see another person appear behind the young soldier, a hunched figure with gloomy eyes.

She stood up blankly, took a step forward subconsciously, and stumbled towards the gate, trying to catch the hunched figure.

She missed and stumbled, then she felt someone grab her collar from behind. The Guardian soldier grabbed the girl who was about to fall when she tried to run past him, and bent down to her: "Are you okay, girl? What's your name? Why are you in the cemetery?"

Anne seemed not to hear the voice. She just raised her head and slowly looked around, looking for the old man she had just seen.

The hunchbacked old man was not far away. He had turned around, waved his hand with his back to this side, and then slowly walked towards the path deep in the cemetery. At the end of the path, an unusually tall figure was standing quietly and vaguely.

The figure was wearing a pitch-black robe that reminded people of the night. His body was wrapped in bandages underneath the robe, and he was holding a long staff that seemed to be carved out of dead wood. He looked like... just like the guard in front of Bartok's gate described in the church books.

The old man came to the guard, and the two seemed to have a brief conversation, and then they disappeared at the end of the path like phantoms.

Annie stared blankly in that direction, standing quietly in the cold wind, neither crying nor moving.

The black guard at the side was a little worried: "What's wrong with you, little girl? What are you looking for?"

"She might be looking for this." Another voice suddenly came from the nearby path, accompanied by the sound of boots stepping on the snow.

Anne turned her head subconsciously.

A nun was walking towards this side, holding two things in her hands - a cane that looked scarred, and a shotgun that looked somewhat familiar.

"Your protector is gone," the nun stopped in front of Anne, slowly squatted down, and placed the two things on the ground. "Unfortunately, we can't let you meet him again - there are only ashes at the scene."

Anne stared at the cane and shotgun on the ground. After a few seconds, she bent down, took them in her hands, and held them carefully in her arms.

"I know," she murmured, "the caretaker and the gatekeeper have left..."

"Don't touch the gun," the black-clad guard beside him subconsciously stretched out his hand to stop him, "It's dangerous..."

"There are no more bullets," the nun shook her head and whispered, "Let her hold them for a while. They might be people they know."

The guardian warrior hesitated for a moment, withdrew his hand, turned his head and looked at the situation in the cemetery.

Dirty, dried black mud covered the path around the caretaker's hut, and dirty snow mixed with the mud to cover the entire cemetery.

How many monsters have tried to attack this place, and how much filth has fallen into the snow here? Now that the shadows have faded, everything... seems to be unknown.

Suddenly, a slightly cool touch was felt. The guardian looked up and saw snowflakes slowly falling from the sky - not ashes, but real snow.

Along with the falling snowflakes, there appeared a ray of light in the sky, which was the light of the sun - the gloomy clouds blocked it, but the hazy light still revealed its existence.

The sun is back.

The mechanical roar of the steam engine was gradually approaching from outside the cemetery. A steam car stopped outside the gate. A team of guards operating near the cemetery noticed the movement, approached the car, and then saluted to the people who got off the car in surprise.

The footsteps came towards the guardhouse. The young black-clad guard saw the person coming and immediately turned around to salute. Then he asked with some confusion: "Gatekeeper, what are you doing..."

"I'm here to check the situation at each cemetery."

Anne, who was holding her cane and shotgun in a daze, heard the voice beside her and finally woke up from her daze. She subconsciously looked up and looked in the direction where the voice came from.

A lady in a black priest's robe stood on the path.

Her skin was pale, and there was a calm yet cold aura around her - Anne couldn't understand what this aura was, but she associated it with the cold fog on the sea. At the same time, she noticed that there were wounds of varying sizes almost everywhere on the lady's exposed skin, but there was no blood in those wounds, just like... a cracked doll.

The lady's eyes were wrapped in a black cloth.

The lady seemed to be blind, but Anne could feel her "sight" was on her. It was a calm and gentle gaze, looking at her through the thick black cloth.

It took Anne a long time to recognize the lady.

The lady, however, evidently recognized her from the beginning.

"I know you. Your name is Annie." Agatha bent down and gently ruffled Annie's hair. Then her eyes fell on the hunting rifle and cane in the girl's hands. She was silent for two seconds, then stood up and said to the priest who was accompanying her, "The area around the mine was the first place to be invaded. These cemeteries surrounding the mine area in the upper city blocked a large number of monsters from rushing to the surrounding blocks."

"Almost all grave keepers and guards stationed around the cemetery were killed in the battle," the nun beside him said slowly, "and the city-state guards in this area also suffered heavy losses."

Agatha listened in silence, then prayed silently.

"Gatekeeper," the black-clad guard beside him couldn't help but speak up, "There are many casualties in the city-state now. We need to be alert to secondary disasters in the fields of death, fear, and obsession. We may need several large-scale requiem ceremonies. The cathedral doesn't have any yet..."

"I am now temporarily taking over the duties of the Archbishop. You don't have to worry about the funeral ceremony," Agatha said calmly. "Bishop Ivan has left. He has a new journey."

The black-clad guard was stunned for a moment, and an expression of shock and disbelief briefly appeared in his eyes. It seemed that until this moment, he had not noticed the change in Agatha's attire.

The gatekeeper took off the black coat that represented military power and replaced it with a robe that was more like a clergyman.

This symbolizes the change in her identity and responsibilities at this moment.

"Don't worry. I still have the duty of the gatekeeper and I will still command the guards until the church headquarters selects a new archbishop or a new gatekeeper replaces me. At that time, I may become the official bishop of this city-state." Although Agatha lost her eyes, she seemed to still have a sharp vision. She noticed the reactions of her subordinates and explained patiently, "At this stage, maintaining the order of the city-state is above all else."

"Yes... the gatekeeper."

The young guard in black lowered his head, and after a brief hesitation, he chose to call his boss by the familiar name "Gatekeeper".

Agatha didn't care about these trivial matters. She turned her eyes and her gaze fell on Anne again.

"Go home," she said gently. "Your mother is safe and she is waiting for you."

Anne hesitated for a moment at first, but when Agatha mentioned her mother, she nodded immediately.

But just as she was about to leave with the guards, she suddenly stopped.

"Grandpa the Guardian... just followed the gatekeeper." She looked up at Agatha. "Ah, I mean the gatekeeper on 'the other side' mentioned in the book."

Agatha frowned slightly.

Anne thought the other party didn't believe her, so she quickly raised her hand and pointed to the path deep in the cemetery: "That's where we left..."

Agatha raised her head and looked thoughtfully in the direction of Anne's finger.

There seemed to be a faint flash of green fire in the place where her eyes were covered by black cloth.

After a moment, she lowered her head and looked into Anne's eyes.

"Do you...want to become a guardian?"

Annie was a little dazed, as if she didn't quite understand what this meant.

But after a few seconds, she seemed to vaguely react: "Is it like you or the caretaker grandfather?"

"That may take many years." Agatha seemed to have a smile on her face, and then she shook her head gently. "Don't think too much about it. It seems a bit early for me to tell you this now. Go home first. If you really want to become a guardian, you must at least be able to enter the most basic church school."

Anne seemed to understand, and then reluctantly handed the shotgun and cane in her hands to the black-clad guard next to her.

"...If I become a guardian, can you give me the hunting rifle and cane that guarded Grandpa?"

She suddenly turned her head and looked at Agatha seriously.

After a moment, Agatha nodded gently: "...If you still think so after three years, I agree."

Anne left.

Peace returned to the cemetery again.

"...Are you serious? The child is still too young to show any potential. To inherit the old soldier's cane, he needs more than just completing the regular training of the Guardians..."

"She can see the guide to the world of the dead," Agatha said slowly, calmly gazing at the path at the end of the cemetery, "just like me back then."

The young black-clad guard stopped talking.

The nun on the other side hesitated again and again, but couldn't help looking at Agatha with some worry: "How is your body..."

"It's okay," Agatha shook her head and said softly, "Something happened, and this body is damaged."