Chapter 625 Accident?
Amidst the faint sound of waves crashing, the footsteps of the two echoed in the entrance passage of the mausoleum. The sounds continued to overlap, but then disappeared among the black stones.
Soon, Anne stopped. In front of her were collapsed stones and soil. The soil was a special color, as if mixed with the remnants of high explosives. The gravel also had traces of burning from the holy flame. After hundreds of years, it still had a faint sacred breath.
"After his death in the White Maple Palace, the Church of Steam and the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun joined forces to locate eight tombs around the world and destroyed them. This is one of them."
Bernadette behind her slowly approached, muttering, and reached out to press the collapsed area in front of her. As a continuous rumbling sound was heard, the rubble and soil moved to the sides, revealing a passage large enough for them to enter.
"It's been completely destroyed."
Without entering the narrow passage, Anne stood at the door and sensed everything.
Her golden eyes reflected everything inside. All the decorations and murals had been cleared away, as if the lower half of the Iron Throne prepared for the giants had melted in the high temperature and solidified into an abstract shape. The crown on the top of the backrest was twisted and deformed, and the patterns engraved on the surface were directly flattened by external forces.
But Anne could still sense a faint breath from it, that of order and chaos, of a twisted but self-contained code, which made her feel a little nostalgic.
"Any clues, Annie?"
Bernadette asked expectantly.
"There's still his aura, but the mausoleum itself is useless. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to push through those obstacles just now." Annie turned around, her eyes dimming. "You should know that even if the 'Black Emperor' dies, he will be resurrected in any mausoleum. The two major churches are naturally aware of this. They mobilized angelic power and some '0' level seals to destroy this place, and thus destroy his hope of return."
"But they only destroyed eight, and the ritual requires nine!"
Bernadette retorted in a low voice, which was completely different from her usual flamboyance in front of her subordinates. She was a little reserved and a little rebellious.
"Furthermore, even if all nine mausoleums are destroyed, as long as no new 'Black Emperor' is born, as long as the new order he established during his lifetime still exists, as long as the people still remember him, there is a chance..."
Her voice became smaller and smaller, and softer and softer, until it was like a breeze blowing through the quiet passage.
"But first, we have to confirm that he has indeed entered the apotheosis ritual, and not been assassinated before that."
Anne answered calmly, no longer looking into the depths of the mausoleum, but turned and walked out of the passage.
"Let's go to the next one."
Her voice didn't sound very confident either... Bernadette sighed and followed him out of the narrow passage.
Outside the mausoleum is a scorching desert that stretches to infinity behind it, but right under their feet is the sea. Where the waves surge, a huge black warship is parked quietly, completely unaffected by the wind and waves.
The mausoleum itself is attached to a gravel-covered stone mountain. Its interior seems to be completely hollowed out, with a huge stone gate tens of meters high as the dividing line, showing the difference between natural scenery and artificial structure.
The surface of the stone gate was covered with countless deep grooves, as if a giant had slashed it back and forth with a weapon, destroying the delicate relief above, but some structural diagrams of Russell's genius invention could still be seen.
Rocks and gravel, the dark and cold interior of the mausoleum and the dry and hot beach, the tall entrance and the narrow passage form a distorted yet regular design.
————
The next morning, Angel received 5,500 pounds from Miss Magician through "sacrifice" to Mr. Fool - 3,000 pounds belonged to the "Judge" attribute, and 2,500 pounds was the additional commission paid by the other party.
Looking at the lovely portrait of William I, the "Founding Father" on the ten-pound note, Angel felt that the corners of his mouth were about to grin to his ears.
As expected, killing Extraordinary People and taking away their Extraordinary Characteristics and magical items is the most profitable... Of course, the same is true for accepting murder commissions, but there is a problem with both: there are not many evil Extraordinary People with bounties on their heads, and most of them are concentrated at sea, not in this prosperous city.
In any case, my savings are finally back to more than 10,000 pounds again... She did a quick calculation and found that with today's income, she already had a full 12,500 pounds in cash. Excluding the next month's expenses for the housekeeper, Ms. Kayla, at the end of the month, she would have 12,000 pounds to use.
It's time to find some investment projects and let the money appreciate naturally... She scratched her head and fell into new troubles.
Contrary to her original imagination, in her interactions with Backlund's factory owners, bankers, and nobles, Angel discovered that most of these wealthy people's wealth was not in cash, gold, and jewelry, or even in readily redeemable assets like bank bonds. Instead, it was invested in stocks in various fields, or in estates and factories across the country.
They cannot be sold for cash at any time, but they will gradually appreciate in value over time and become part of the net worth of aristocrats and wealthy people.
To talk about one's bank account balance in Backlund's upper class was like being a bumpkin from the countryside... and this type of investment effectively prevented the nobles and factory owners from becoming direct targets. After all, killing them wouldn't yield much money, and stocks and real estate were difficult to "steal."
No wonder the witch sect gradually evolved into the current way of making money. This can be regarded as the "choice of the times"... Angel sighed, left the bedroom, enjoyed a hearty breakfast with the service of the maid, and listened to the butler Barker introduce today's itinerary and the list of people who needed to be visited.
"Miss, Mr. Dwayne Dantes's butler has sent you an invitation to attend a dance at his house this Saturday night."
After helping her arrange her itinerary, Riback took out an exquisitely designed invitation and said.
Here we come!
Angel's expression remained unchanged. He raised his teacup and took a sip, then asked calmly:
"Do you think I should join?"
"This businessman from Dixie hasn't been doing well lately. Rumor has it that even while bedridden, he was still thinking about, uh, getting in touch with women of different personalities..."
Ribak tactfully reminded his hostess to be cautious in her contact with the other party.
Wasn't this the "performance" Arrodes had put on that night? He hadn't expected Bishop Elektra to be such a big mouth, spreading Klein's embarrassing story so quickly throughout the social circle... Of course, it wasn't ruled out that his butler or valet had spread it, perhaps to slightly lower his reputation without causing any harm, and instead making him seem more approachable...
Angel recalled the social skills he had learned recently and concluded that Dwayne Dantès's reputation wasn't a problem. He chuckled and replied:
"Please reply to the letter and tell her I will be attending. Also, have Ms. Keira prepare a suitable gift. It doesn't have to be expensive, but it should be worthy of his status... Who else will be attending the ball?"
"Kayla will prepare it for you. Also, there should be a full guest list on Wednesday. I'll give it to you then."
Seeing that Angel had made up his mind, Ribak stopped talking and silently wrote down these requirements, determined to ensure that his master performed perfectly at the ball.
Of course, her appearance alone would make her the absolute focus of the ball... Stealing a glance at Miss Theresa's face, which was unmade up but even more beautiful and attractive, Ribac thought of the "ideal type" that Dantes was rumored to like, and couldn't help sighing in his heart.
Noticing his gaze, Angel was no longer as shy as she had been when she first became a woman. She had gradually become accustomed to the lethality of her appearance as a High-Sequence Witch. Even if she deliberately restrained the charm derived from her extraordinary abilities, she was confident that she could easily "knock down" all the men she came into contact with based on her appearance alone. This could be seen from the countless invitations to dinners, dances, and salons she received every day.
Ryback and Kayla even complained that some visitors would secretly give them money when they handed in their invitations, just to get them to put the invitations before others. Of course, being able to tell their employers openly means that they have rejected this temptation, which is a reflection of the professionalism of the butlers.
Moreover, they were a step late...
Angel suddenly laughed, which stunned Riback in front of her and Aisha, the maid serving tea beside her.
————
In the great prayer hall of St. Samuel's Church, Klein, who had just recovered from a serious illness, came here as usual to pray to the goddess and make a "dedication" as a believer.
I've already spent several hundred pounds here. Although it's earned me a reputation for generosity and brought me into contact with the church's influence, a donation of 50 pounds each time is really expensive...
He dropped three ten-pound notes and four five-pound notes into the donation box with great reluctance, and returned to his seat under the kind gaze of a bishop he was not familiar with. He did not leave immediately, but squinted his eyes as if he was taking a rest, and looked forward.
At the end of his sight was an elderly man wearing a black clergy robe, with dry yellow hair and already in his twilight years. He was praying with his eyes closed, completely unaware of Klein's surveillance.
This was an internal guard of the "Chanis Gate." Klein had been secretly observing him for over half a month. He knew that he was on duty every Friday and was missing most of the time, like a machine that hid in a corner and shut down after completing its mission.
Only on Tuesday afternoons would he come to the prayer hall to pray at this fixed time.
Seeing that no one was paying attention to him, Klein activated his "Spirit Line" vision, allowing the black lines emerging from the bodies of other believers to surround him.
Among them, he noticed that the inner watcher also had the same lines as ordinary people. They spread out and shot to infinity, but the focus was not the "one point" of other people, but a dark place in the body, like a black hole that swallowed everything.
Could it be that it has been corroded by the seal of the "Chanis Gate"... He subconsciously looked towards the darkness, only to find that the old man had turned his head at some point, his eyes without pupils and with the whites of his eyes covered in the same black color, staring at him intently.
Discovered!
He tightened his left hand, about to activate Creeping Hunger and use his newfound ability of Travel to escape.
Using a surprising reaction to suppress his instinctive movements, Klein forced a smile, trying to get away with it. But the next second, he felt his surroundings become blurry. The once bustling church was now empty, and the benches on both sides were either broken or rotten.
Dream?
Despite being suddenly attacked by a "nightmare," Klein calmed down. He looked at the inner guard in front of him, whose face was hideous, with two pairs of deformed arms growing from his ribs. He lay on the ground like a terrifying eight-legged monster. However, he did not react like a "Beyond Person." Instead, he screamed, his steps were disorderly, and he hid around in the prayer hall, like an ordinary person having a nightmare.
Soon, this nightmare was shrouded by a dark and cold atmosphere. Klein opened his eyes and found himself back in the real prayer hall. The guard inside was not looking here, but was still praying with his head bowed. The believers around him did not show any abnormality. The bishop's sermon beside the altar had just begun. Everything was peaceful and beautiful.
But something must have gone wrong with that guard just now... Klein pondered this and soon noticed Bishop Elektra entering through the side door and walking directly towards him.
If I were truly exposed, they would be followed by a whole team of Nighthawks or even Red Gloves, not the Bishop I was familiar with...
He quickly figured this out, and with a confused and frightened expression, he took the initiative to tell Elektra about his nightmare, receiving her comfort and blessings.
After the bishop left, Klein looked at the inner guard again and found that he had also been led out of the prayer hall by another bishop and headed to the underground area.
It seemed like it was purely an accident. He subconsciously retaliated because I touched the spiritual line, and the seal under the church regarded it as a sign of loss of control. They quickly calmed the situation and notified the bishop on duty... Fortunately, I responded appropriately and nothing unusual was discovered, so the whole thing was resolved secretly.
Klein breathed a sigh of satisfaction and prepared to leave at a leisurely pace, disguising himself as a perfect "victim."
"A victim? Doing it secretly? No way, do you really think so? Have you forgotten that you swore a vow before the goddess's sacred object and have already received her attention?"
Suddenly, a sarcastic voice sounded in Klein's mind.
This voice belongs to him!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
