Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 99: Chapter 103: The Tomb of the Nameless King

The evening bells rang three times, and before the third toll, Fenna had already arrived at the cathedral.

The old bishop Valentin had been waiting there, a highly respected elder draped in a black cleric’s robe, silently standing in prayer before the statue of the Storm Goddess Gomona. Hearing someone enter the sanctuary, he didn’t turn around, knowing it was Fenna.

“Fenna the Judge,” Valentin said gravely, “The Storm Cathedral has issued an order to summon the Listener.”

“The Storm Cathedral itself?” Fenna exclaimed in surprise, quickly stepping in front of the statue, bathing herself in the bright glow of the lamps. “Can it be that they’ve found new anomalies or omens?”n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

“If it were merely new anomalies or omens, the bells would not have rung three times,” Valentin shook his head. “It is the Tomb Guardian from the ‘Crypt’ who has sent the message directly, stating that there is some activity with the body of the unnamed king. Although it’s still unclear what message He intends to convey, it seems… the existing list of names is undergoing changes.”

As he spoke, the old bishop turned his head and quietly looked into Fenna’s eyes.

“This time we need to send a Listener into the inner parts of the Crypt, to receive intelligence directly from the body of the unnamed king. Currently, the rotation falls to the Deep Sea Church, and the Listener will be selected from the followers of the Storm Goddess— the specific individual has not yet been determined, both you and I are on the list of candidates.”

Fenna composed herself and calmly asked, “When do we depart?”

“Now,” Valentin nodded and gestured for Fenna to follow. He walked towards the back of the goddess’s statue, where a door embellished with many Holy Symbols was already open, revealing a long and profound corridor beyond. “The Spiritual Energy channel is ready.”

Fenna bowed to the statue of Gomona, then turned and followed the old bishop’s footsteps.

They passed through that door, and the long corridor, until two devout Believers reached the deepest part of the ancient church—a special chamber located at the end of the corridor.

This was a small room, unlike the cement and brick structure of the main church, this diminutive chamber was constructed entirely of stone. The gray, irregular stones fitted tightly together to form the walls and roof of the room. In the center of the room was a recessed fire pit where flames crackled and burnt vigorously—but no fuel could be seen at the base of the flames, as if they were conjured from the air.

Aside from the central flame, there was no furniture in the entire chamber, only the continuous, faint sound of flowing water coming from nowhere in particular. Every wall appeared damp, and even the floor seemed constantly traversed by tiny flowing streams—giving the sensation that this stone chamber wasn’t just any room within the cathedral, but rather… a submerged cavern beneath the sea.

Fenna, not her first time in this chamber—as a Judge of the City-State, with status equal to a bishop’s, she also had the right to use the “Spiritual Energy channel” here. This inconspicuous room was, in fact, the “portal” for constructing the Spiritual Energy channel.

In the central church of each City-State, there were facilities like this, and each congregation had similar technologies—the priests of the Storm Goddess used such “submerged caverns,” whereas the priests of the God of Death constructed interconnected pathways in “pale crypts.” These seemingly grim and oppressive installations actually performed a miraculous function: they could extract the user’s spirit and transport it into a vast, interconnected realm of Spiritual Energy. No matter how distant these City-States lay from one another, no matter how fierce the storms on the Endless Sea.

It was a miracle realized with the gods’ blessings, allowing churches spread far across the Endless Sea to communicate promptly, and in more ancient times, when ocean-going vessels were not as reliable as they are now, this was the only means many City-States had to maintain communication and confirm each other’s survival.

The door to the chamber slowly closed, the heavy, dark metal door emitting a dull thud. The complex runes inscribed on the twin doors began to race across the surface, intertwining and gnashing like living entities, sealing the room completely.

Fenna and Valentin stood together by the fire pit at the center of the room. They lowered their heads, gazing at the leaping sacred flames, silently reciting the holy name of the Storm Goddess Gomona.

The phantom sound of flowing water came continuously from all around, growing louder with the chanting of the holy name. Gradually, the sound of flowing water merged into the sound of waves, even starting to roar, while a damp scent filled the room. As the heaviness of the moist air intensified, Fenna saw the trickling streams on the ground suddenly swell into churning waves, rising rapidly.

She watched the flames in the center of the room, burning fiercely as ever amid the rising waves.

Fenna closed her eyes, serenely allowing the illusory seawater to completely submerge her.

The icy sensation quickly vanished, and when she opened her eyes again, she no longer saw the rock chamber like a submerged cavern, but instead a vastly wide space of chaos—an apparent plaza, boundless and majestic, supported by numerous grand columns in the distance. The tops of these columns appeared shattered and dispersed into the distant sky, and a muddled flow of light shrouded the space above the plaza. Something seemed hidden in the depths of that light, yet it was beyond the reach of mortal eyes.

Fenna steadied her spirit, and she saw that the plaza was already filled with many figures—merely silhouettes of black shadows. Although their faces were indiscernible, through the familiar aura each shadow radiated, she could confirm that they were all devout saints of the Storm Goddess—from various City-States as well as from the various mobile cathedrals and even the saints from the Storm Cathedral.

Only “saints” could become the alternative “Listeners”—because some “voices” can only be fully heard by powerful saints while maintaining clarity of mind.

“It seems we are the last to arrive,” a shadowy figure approached, drifting in and out of solidity. Fenna recognized him as Bishop Valentin before he even spoke. The old man’s tone seemed slightly embarrassed, “The last time there was a meeting, I was also the last to arrive…”

“Do the saints from other City-States live in secret chambers or what…” Fenna muttered under her breath, “every time the convocation is announced, it takes less than ten minutes for them to gather half the people…”

“Since twenty years ago, when Saint Folson wrote ‘first’ on the register at the meeting site, they’ve started competing to arrive early,” Valentin shook his head, “Honestly, I can’t understand it… the Goddess won’t grant any special attention for this.”

Fenna expressed neither agreement nor disagreement, but at that moment, a sudden roar arose from the end of the crowd, interrupting her thoughts as well as the conversations among the shadowy saints.

Fenna and Valentin simultaneously looked up, only to see the ground in the center of the plaza rising—an ancient, shattered cobblestone began to ripple like water waves. Amidst the overlapping ripples, a massive object rose rapidly, first the pale spire, followed by its tilting stone walls and primitive columns.

In almost an instant, the object entered Fenna’s full view—a massive building constructed of giant pale stones.

It was a gloomy “palace,” a structure erected in an already lost epoch, its silhouette embodying a pyramid at the core, surrounded by numerous obelisks and towers. No City-State on earth featured such an architectural style, and its low and oppressive atmosphere did not seem designed for the living.

To call it a palace was perhaps less accurate than calling it a vast tomb.

In fact, it was indeed a tomb—a mausoleum belonging to some ancient and powerful being.

Like everyone else, Fenna’s gaze uncontrollably fell upon the base of the great pyramid. Under the watch of countless eyes, the mausoleum’s gates finally began to open slowly.

The heavy, pale stone doors receded to either side, revealing a very tall figure slowly walking out from within.

That was the Tomb Guardian of the Nameless King’s burial chamber.

In Fenna’s eyes, it was difficult to say whether “he” was still a living human.

His body was wrapped in layers of mummification linen, half of his body and linen blackened as though scorched. The other half was entwined with heavy rune shackles, the somber chains extending directly from his flesh, their tips twined with pulsating veins and nerves—this ancient Tomb Guardian, a terrifying creature made of flesh, iron restraint, and deathly curse, stepped out from the Nameless King’s tomb, taking heavy footsteps towards the gathered shadows in the plaza.

Despite it not being her first time seeing the “Tomb Guardian,” Fenna subconsciously took a breath, feeling her muscles tense.

Then, she saw the Tomb Guardian head straight towards her.

The choice had been made.

Without hesitation, the Tomb Guardian passed by everyone in the plaza, halting before Fenna. His head, entwined with linen and chains, bore only one exposed eye, which calmly looked at her—even though Fenna was already quite tall, the Tomb Guardian still towered a full head above her.

“You, may enter the burial chamber,” the Tomb Guardian spoke, his voice as hoarse as if coming from a corpse. He then raised his right hand, which looked scorched by fire, clutching a feathered pen and a roll of parchment.

“Record what you hear,” the Tomb Guardian instructed succinctly.

(Mama mia!)