Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 155 “Suspicion”

Vanna’s gaze lingered on the record for several seconds more as her keen nose picked up on the whiff of a plot.

Heretical sacrifices suddenly appeared among ordinary citizens, the target of the offerings pointed to an unknown existence, and the ritual eventually attracted the attention of supernatural forces despite not meeting the criteria. Yet, despite all these abnormalities, no follow-up investigations were taken....

It’s then a flash of clarity hit the woman. Putting down the file in hand, she hurriedly opened another record she had just read before.

It was also in 1889, but a little earlier than the factory leak – an armed attack had taken place in the lower city, which was handled by the police force during the day. Such case files wouldn’t usually be kept in the church’s archive since they only dealt with the supernatural, but here we are.

According to the record, the victim was a customer who suffered a mental breakdown inside the shop. The suspect insisted he saw the shadow of blasphemy on the window and fought back with a knife. This caused the officials to search the shop. There, they found sacrificial symbols etched along the basement walls. However, no one could figure out who the offerings were meant for. Then through interrogation, it was later learned that the shop owner carried out sacrifices in private due to some unknown guidance.

This was also a random sacrificial ritual, which was theoretically impossible to take effect since it had no proper worship target. Despite this crucial factor, small-scale insanity did occur in the neighborhood afterward.

Vanna frowned at the similarity between the two events. From the surface, it may appear to have little to do with the factory leak eleven years ago, and they did not correspond at all in terms of timing. However, her instincts are telling her otherwise. As a leading inquisitor of the Storm Church, her instincts are an extension of her holy powers. If it’s blaring an alarm, then she must trust it.

After finding nothing more, she returned the two files and continued rummaging through the subsequent documents on the shelf. This time, she deliberately paid closer attention and actively searched for records related to heresy worship.

After an unknown amount of time, she suddenly stopped.

There’s a third record. It occurred at the edge of the upper city limits and before the factory leak as well. According to what’s written in the report, a maid working for a wealthy man’s home suddenly went berserk and attacked the household, injuring three other servants and the master of the house. Afterward, the maid locked herself in the warehouse when the church guardian and police arrived. Unfortunately, by the time the authorities broke down the door and barged in, the maid had already committed suicide with a dagger used to carve heretical symbols along the warehouse walls.

They later found evidence in the deceased’s room to back the claim that she was a heretic. However, the investigators found something amiss though and left an important note in the document – the offering was pointed at an unknown existence that’s not on record.

That’s already the third one....

If Vanna was only slightly concerned when she found the first two cases, then now, she’s completely sure she’s onto something serious.

She quickly arranged the information in her mind, analyzing them according to when and where they occurred.

The events were scattered, independent in time, and unrelated in location. Therefore, there should be no theoretical relation between the parties or the factory leak from eleven years ago.

Vanna continued to rummage through the follow-up files, and it didn’t take long for her to find the documents about the factory leak.

It was a major event with a wide-ranging impact, and the number of heretics captured in the follow-up sweep was almost the highest in the past twenty or thirty years. Therefore, a separate book file was used to record the whole thing. The thick document was quite heavy, and it included a large number of pictures and interrogation reports from back then.

Such a large volume would take ages to get through, but Vanna had no trouble skimming through everything. She had read this many times in the past in other places.

It seems that even in the church’s archives, there is no more information about the factory leak than what’s made public....

Vanna placed the document back and rummaged through the other stacks of papers until she noticed something peculiar at the end. Aside from the three cases that occurred before the big event in the middle of the year, nothing else happened afterward. It’s like the strange events were all just building up to the grand finale. Then poof, it all mysteriously disappeared.

Of course, this could also be explained by assuming the authorities had captured most of the cultists in the huge sweep afterward. But for some reason, she got this inkling sensation that it couldn’t be that simple behind these seemingly unrelated events.

With the seed of doubt planted in her heart, Vanna knew she couldn’t let this go until the truth came out. Stopping, she quickly returned to the front to start anew.

But just as Vanna was about to pick out the first documents again for a second read, an unhurried sound of footsteps caught her ears. She could pick up the faint scent of gear oil and incense in the air.

Stopping to look up, the lady noticed it was none other than the old priest charged with overseeing the archives. The man was limping over. Apparently, his leg had also been changed to a prosthetic one.

“There are no people around this time so came to take a look,” the old priest said with a smile, “have you found the information you wanted?”

Vanna gave a soft sigh and placed the file in her hand back on the shelf: “I found some information, but I didn’t find the answer I wanted.”

“Answer?” The old priest now sounded curious, “What kind of answer do you want?”

“...... How long have you been here?” Instead of answering directly, Vanna suddenly asked a seemingly irrelevant question.

“Ah, it’s been a long time. Lemme think.... It’s been almost twenty years,” the old priest chuckled, “I’ve been in this place since I was blown up by a homemade bomb by those heretical maniacs.”

Vanna mulled over the pain that must’ve caused before asking more: “Is it always this deserted here on weekdays? Will anyone else come like I did?”

“Most of the weekdays, yes, it’s like this. However, some do come on occasion, but not many,” the old priest replied frankly. “The files here are the memories of the past, and the archive is the deepest part of that memory. Once sealed, they are no longer suitable for public disclosure. Besides, new things are happening every day in the city. Nobody is going to have the free time to flip through old documents and sealed files.”

The old priest suddenly paused when he said this, then raised his head to peer up at the dome overhead like he was reminiscing the past.

“And sometimes.... the archived files are not just records of the past, but the actual history sealed within those pages. The past, the present, and the future of our world, it’s all built on a precarious foundation. It’s not good to meddle with such a frail thing.”

“...... The way you speak, you sound like one of those Flame Bearers.”

“Yeah, the Flame Bearers always did preach in this fashion. They guard our history and constantly worry about ancient beings spilling over to contaminate our modern world. You know, some even suspect the Enders are the byproduct of a Flame Bearer being polluted by subspace. They’re always so sensitive.”

The old priest smiled and shook his head at the silly thought: “When I was young, I had a close relationship with several friends from the Flame Bearer Church. It’s how I ended up speaking like them. Although their teachings are different from the Storm Church, everyone is still a follower of the light. It’s not bad to learn from them when possible.”

For some reason, Vanna’s heart felt a little calmer while listening to the old man’s story. “Are you still in touch with those friends?”

“No, not anymore.” The old man shook his head slowly like he was lamenting a fact, “One morning, I suddenly found myself unable to remember their names. I suspect they were probably martyred on the job...”