From the Ship of Fools to Earl of Wugang

Chapter 108 The Place of Protection

Black fog poured into the old relief center from the broken windows on the street-facing side, clinging to the floor and spreading rapidly along the ground and the bottoms of the furniture like a flood.

Several thicker strands of black mist squeezed in from below the door. The two streams of mist merged and then immediately split, one sliding towards the stairs, the other disappearing into the adjacent office, and the rest moving along the wall towards the corridor leading to the basement.

The muffled thuds of the drainpipe vibrating downstairs quickly turned into the sound of continuously rising, sticky water.

Behind the sewer tunnel sealed off by brick walls at the deepest part of the old relief center, a large amount of liquid was hitting the walls, causing the entire block's drainage system to overflow.

The screams inside the courtyard grew louder and louder. Edmund saw from the window that the gatekeeper had fallen backward onto the stone slab, one of his shoes already stuck in the black water.

Several thin shadows were wrapped around his ankles beneath the water, tightening as he struggled.

Just then, a shadow swept across the eaves.

The enormous raven swooped down, its wings folded, and a shadow with sharp claws swept over the guard's head, precisely seizing the back of his coat collar.

Moro suddenly flapped its wings and pulled an adult man up from the ground.

The thin, black object wrapped around her ankle was pulled to the surface; it had a slippery, oily texture, like long hair soaked through, and snapped off after taut.

The gatekeeper yelled even louder as Moro dragged him along the outer wall to the second floor.

The raven slipped in through the broken window at the end of the corridor, dropped the person onto the indoor floor, and immediately turned and flew back to the yard.

Julian had already reached another window, glanced at the street, and then took out a gold medal from the inside pocket of his suit.

The medal is only half the size of a palm, with a closed lion's head cast on the front and a circle of fine inscriptions around the edge.

The moment Edmund's gaze fell upon it, the information unfolded.

[The Legislator's Testimony]

This medal, of this design, was once worn by a great conqueror who witnessed his conquest of the lower world systems and the establishment of his empire. Therefore, the proper forging of such a medal may also grant him some power.

Julian held the medal in his right hand, the lion's head facing outwards, his voice carrying through the corridors and staircases throughout the main building.

"This place is a place of protection. The ground beneath your feet already has an owner; the disorderly may rest but not transgress."

As the announcement was made, the black mist that had already entered the corridor suddenly stopped.

It was as if it had been pressed to the ground by an invisible piece of glass, its edges rapidly thinning. Thin, golden lines, like strands of hair, appeared one after another on the door frame, window frame, and corner of the wall, connecting with each other along the stone wall and wooden beams. The black mist was gradually pushed back outside the door, and the part that had already entered the stairs retreated from between the steps, finally crossing the threshold and falling back into the black water in the courtyard.

The black water repeatedly pounded against the tightly closed door, and each time it hit the door frame, the golden threads would light up slightly.

The air inside the main building has returned to normal, but the sound of water flowing through the underground sewage tunnel is still rising.

The courtyard and streets were completely submerged in an ink-like liquid. Several abandoned wooden crates floated slowly on the surface, and the bottom crossbar of the scaffolding had also sunk into the water.

A faint, warm glow emanated from the medal in Julian's hand, and a fine layer of sweat appeared on his forehead; clearly, this rule was not easy.

"I can only hold the building; they're putting pressure on us from both underground and the street," he said quickly. "Keep everyone inside and don't step out the door."

Edmund had left the window and returned to his desk, picking up "Eagle in the Wind."

He opened the safe next to him and took out a metal box containing a large number of alchemy tools he had purchased from Rick.

The metal box was placed on the table, and the medicine bottles and alchemical bombs inside rattled and clattered from the vibrations. Edmund took out a bottle of armor potion, unscrewed it, and poured the entire bottle of grayish-silver liquid down the front of his coat and the cuffs on both sides.

The medicine seeped into the fabric quickly upon contact, causing dark, scale-like patterns to appear on the surface, which then became heavy and tough.

The pungent smell assaulted his nostrils, and he fastened his coat tightly to ensure the medicine covered his chest, abdomen, and arms as much as possible.

He then tucked the "Eagle in the Wind" into his waist holster and took three alchemical bombs from the box, stuffing them into an easily accessible pocket.

Finally, the spirituality spread across the skin's surface, and several layers of misaligned, transparent reflections briefly flashed across the shoulders and chest. Edmund returned to the window.

The black fog on the street was parting to both sides, and he saw three people wearing hooded robes emerge from the fog and stand a few steps apart outside the main entrance of the old relief center.

Their robes hung down into the black water, appearing as if they were one with the water. Edmund was very familiar with this style of clothing—he had seen it the last time he was stuffed into the sack.

The leader held a round fish tank in both hands, inside which only a single white fish, about the size of a finger, swam slowly around the inner glass wall. Large sections of information appeared.

Nathaniel Lockwood, a second-tier "Tide-Worshipping Deacon" from the "Path of Death" branch of the Deep Ones Order, is currently in a spiritual connection with two first-tier "Tide-Transformers" from the same path...

The leader's old acquaintance lifted the fish tank, while the other two lowered their heads simultaneously.

The singing then began.

It was a hymn with a four-line structure, each line beginning with a low, guttural sound, gradually rising with a series of clicks at the back of the tongue, and ending with a reverse inhale.

The human mouth doesn't seem well-suited to producing these syllables, yet the three voices overlapped solemnly and closely, forming...

A certain eerie, rhythmic cadence.

As the hymn continued, the water in the fish tank and the white fish churned together. As the fish's body expanded, the water in the tank surged upwards regardless of its volume.

The white fish's pectoral fins split open from the base, stretching into two rows of joined fingers, repeatedly scratching at the glass wall.

Information Vision has finally provided a complete assessment.

[An immature human-faced fish, a ritual creation that grows in the presence of human voices and salt water.]

[The larvae can maintain the appearance of ordinary fish and rapidly "grow" in the nearby waters during specific hymns. Currently, they are drawing spiritual energy from the nearby black water; their mature form and specific uses are unknown.]

Amidst the increasingly loud hymns, the glass of the fish tank made a soft, strained sound as the mass of white flesh underwater almost completely filled the circular container.

It braced itself against the tank wall with two rows of finger-like pectoral fins and slowly turned its head toward the window where Edmund was.

Just then, there was a knock on the office door.

Edmund's right hand was already on the gun handle, and the glass veil refracted several layers of misaligned light on the back of his hand.

If the door lock makes even the slightest unusual noise, he will fire through the wooden door with "Eagle in the Wind".

"Mr. Hall, it's me." Noyd's voice came from outside the door.

Edmund did not let go. Whispering spirits can steal voices, and the Tide-Praying Deacon may well have similar methods.

"How can you prove it?"

There was a half-second silence behind the door, followed by a vocalization: "Hardcore!"

Edmund immediately unlocked the door and let Neudt slip in sideways. Moro perched on his shoulder, half a curtain cord that had been torn from somewhere still clutched between his paws.

The raven tilted its head and looked at Edmund's hand holding the gun, then opened its mouth and made a short, nasal sound that sounded like mockery.