Chapter 99: Close at Hand

Chapter 99: Close at Hand

The moment Klein saw Leonard Mitchell, the muscles of his waist and back instantly stiffened. His mind drew taut like a bowstring pulled to its very limit, liable to snap at any second.

He remembered very clearly that his poet classmate had an angel of the Marauder pathway parasitizing his body—Pallez Zoroast. That angel could perceive Klein’s special nature and thereby see through his disguise!

If that old grandfather told Leonard that there was something wrong with the internal caretaker before him, then Klein would be in terrible trouble. He could only place his hopes on the poet classmate fearing the exposure of his own secret and, while pinching his nose, pretending he knew nothing… Back in Tingen, although Leonard had always said that everyone had their own secrets and there was no need to mind them too much, those had been situations that did not directly target the Church. Who knew whether his sense of justice might suddenly erupt, making him decide to be loyal to his duty and take the risk of exposing Klein? After all, this was very similar to the matter involving Ince Zangwill…

In that instant, cold sweat nearly seeped from Klein’s forehead.

Honestly, he had not expected to run into Leonard on his way to Chanis Gate, because Leonard was already a Red Glove, not an ordinary Nighthawk, and no longer needed to stand duty shifts. Nor should he have been underground at this hour.

However, Klein immediately thought of a key point.

The one capable of sensing his special nature was Pallez Zoroast, not Leonard Mitchell. The former’s attitude was far more important!

That old grandfather knows that I know of His existence. If He exposes my disguise and throws me into danger, He must be ready for me to expose Him as well. Then we would inevitably harm each other, and neither side would gain anything from it. For an angel of the Marauder pathway who does not believe in the Goddess, this is completely unnecessary… If I were Him, I would simply pretend nothing had happened, not remind Leonard Mitchell at all, and certainly not entrust my own safety to a single thought from my host…

Having rapidly sorted through his thoughts, Klein regained his calm and walked toward Leonard Mitchell, who wore red gloves.

Leonard casually glanced at the internal caretaker opposite him, a man with sparse, frosty-white hair. He could not help raising his right hand, half-covering his mouth as he yawned.

He did not sleep at night, had nothing to do, and went to the duty room to find people to play cards with? He truly is a standard Sleepless…

Klein roughly understood why his poet classmate, despite being a Red Glove, had appeared here.

Recalling the reactions of the internal caretakers when they met Nighthawks back in Tingen City, he silently gave Leonard a small nod, touching four points clockwise over his chest with the index and middle fingers of his right hand, as though drawing a full moon.

Leonard returned the gesture the same way. Having noticed nothing at all, he passed by the internal caretaker with loose skin and a large nose, and continued straight ahead.

Klein silently breathed out. Maintaining his earlier pace and stride, he walked all the way to his destination.

The pair of iron-black doors was heavy and cold. Seven sacred emblems had been engraved upon them, and it seemed that nothing in the world could shake them.

Klein turned his body sideways, walked two diagonal steps, and knocked on the door of the guard room. Under the witness of the Nighthawk on shift, he opened Chanis Gate.

Deep darkness immediately surged within. Although silver candles carved with patterns burned quietly inside, they could not disperse that sensation. Instead, the ghostly blue flames deepened the feeling of deathly stillness and silence.

At the same time, Klein felt invisible things within the darkness scraping over his skin, burrowing into his body, crossing the boundary between reality and illusion, and connecting to the Wraith Senor.

All at once, even without activating Spirit Vision, he saw black threads filling everything behind Chanis Gate. They gently swayed, gathering together or extending outward, as if some lady were spreading her hair, or as if a strange creature were waving its tentacles.

Expression indifferent, Klein took a step forward and entered the sealed grounds. Then he turned and pushed Chanis Gate shut.

At that moment, the sounds of the outside seemed completely cut off. The interior was as silent as the kingdom of the dead. It made people involuntarily imagine things, involuntarily feel fear, causing Klein to recall how, when he was young, even without having heard ghost stories, he had occasionally lain in his little bed, eyes open and staring into the darkness, too afraid to sleep.

No wonder the Goddess also has the title of Queen of Fear…

Klein cast his gaze to the side, lifted the lantern placed in the corner, and skillfully lit it.

A dim yellow glow immediately spilled out, tinged faintly with blue.

Wearing the black clerical robe, Klein did not rush underground toward the second level to search for the Antigonus family notebook. Instead, he remained behind the door and patiently waited.

This was to guard against any Nighthawk urgently needing something, yet being unable to retrieve it during the night and thus having no choice but to wait until dawn.

Based on his experience, the first five minutes after an internal caretaker entered Chanis Gate were among the easiest moments to be disturbed. So long as he passed through them smoothly, and as long as no other accident occurred midway, normal retrieval of materials would wait until around eight o’clock—the standard working time of the Nighthawks and civilian staff.

In other words, once Klein endured the first five minutes, he basically would not be disturbed by Nighthawks for the next nearly two hours. Of course, in practice, his operation time would not be so generous. The Evernight Church’s cathedral opened at eight, and the servants would rise at least an hour to an hour and a half in advance to begin working. After 6:30, other servants could discover at any moment that one of their companions had gone missing!

Time passed second by second. Klein’s heartbeat quickened slightly beyond his control. He felt those five minutes were tormentingly long.

Finally, after finishing his silent count, he cast his gaze toward the stone steps deep in the darkness. They were the passage to the second level.

At this very moment, no one here could restrict him anymore!

Reaching this point, Klein felt he had already overcome seventy percent of the difficulties. The remaining thirty percent mainly lay in how to leave after succeeding.

Of course, accidents always had a certain probability of occurring. Klein did not become careless. Carrying the lantern, he walked step by step toward the stone stairs.

For other Beyonders, the first level behind Chanis Gate was actually more attractive than the sealed artifacts. Stored here were all kinds of Beyonder ingredients, potion formulas, and hidden knowledge. Even captured cultists and wild Beyonders were imprisoned here. Whether an infiltrator wanted wealth and advancement, or wanted to rescue companions, merely operating on this level would already be enough.

But Klein had to go deeper, to the place where harmful items were sealed.

When passing several tightly locked stone rooms, he clearly sensed people inside. Yet they did not clamor, roar, beg, or call for help. All lay or sat quietly, their auras already becoming cold and gloomy.

The lantern light swayed, illuminating layer after layer of stairs leading downward. Klein withdrew his attention and steadily walked toward the deeper underground.

He did not run, fearing that this would trigger an excessive reaction from the sealing core.

The darkness grew denser and denser. The ghostly blue light from the elegant candle stands on either side grew fainter and fainter, giving him the illusion that it was about to go out at any moment. And when that happened, pure darkness might bring unimaginable, terrifying changes. Klein endured this instinctive fear and finally finished descending the stairs, arriving at the second underground level.

Borrowing the Wraith’s night vision, Klein swept a glance around and discovered that strange walls made from steel, brick, stone, soil, and silver shaped the area, dividing it into one zone after another. Some places were open, while others were tightly closed rooms. Each contained a sealed artifact.

Carrying the lantern and turning left, Klein’s eyes suddenly brightened. He saw roaring flames, bright-red smokeless coal, and charcoal.

That area was half-open. Inside it was an object shaped like a bathtub made of steel. Its lower portion had been hollowed out and filled with smokeless coal, charcoal, and various combustible materials.

They burned continuously, causing gurgling noises to emerge from the steel bathtub. Steam spread outward, gathering at the ceiling and condensing into droplets that fell like rain.

An item that must be submerged in hot water to be sealed… And the internal caretakers must regularly add charcoal and coal to prevent the flames from going out… Mm, if there were a sealed artifact that constantly emitted high temperatures, it could be combined with this and make the sealing much easier…

Klein glanced at the steel bathtub. With the thought that he should not allow any accident to disrupt his plan, he moved closer and used tools to add part of the coal piled outside into the fire.

When he lifted his head, the corner of his eye swept across the hot water inside the steel bathtub and saw one silver metal object after another.

Together, they seemed to form a heavy suit of full body armor. Some places bore dark-red bloodstains that could not be washed away, as well as splattered red dots.

1-42… Ancient god’s blood… So it has been stored long-term in the Backlund diocese…

Klein had seen this sealed artifact before, and the relevant information immediately surfaced in his mind.

Just as he was about to withdraw his gaze, he saw the ancient-style silver helmet.

The helmet’s visor had already been lowered, making the interior pitch-black. At that moment, Klein felt as though a gaze was projecting outward from within, falling upon him.

He abruptly shuddered and hurriedly retreated two steps, his heart beating fast and chaotically.

No longer daring to examine it, Klein calmed himself, cast his gaze ahead, and moved steadily away from that area.

After passing several sealed places, his inspiration was suddenly touched. He felt that somewhere to his right, something was calling to him. It also emitted the thump-thump sound of a heart expanding and contracting!

As expected, that Antigonus family notebook has been waiting for me to come all along…

Klein calmly confirmed his previous judgment. Following that intangible call, he changed direction and approached all the way.

In only two or three minutes, he saw a room whose stone door was half-open. Inside, the darkness was deep and heavy, without the slightest trace of light.

As the lantern shone in, a hollow bookshelf made from white bones entered Klein’s eyes. On it lay an ancient notebook with a hard, pitch-black cover.

The Antigonus family notebook!

“Hornacis… Flegrea… Hornacis… Flegrea…”

An illusory voice drilled into Klein’s ears, letting him confirm that he had found his target.

Things were going smoothly, but Klein did not dare be even slightly careless or reckless. He cautiously entered the room and slowly moved closer, afraid that the measures sealing the Antigonus family notebook might harm him.

And so, once the distance had shortened, a hand suddenly stretched out from the area of his chest and abdomen—a hand whose sleeve was dark red!

It was the Wraith Senor’s hand.

One of the rules of a Marionettist: when a marionette could be used, use the marionette as much as possible. If something truly went wrong, let the marionette bear the consequences!

Just then, a sharp tap sounded from the room’s entrance, as if someone had walked over.

Klein’s pupils suddenly dilated. Without thinking, he lunged toward the white-bone bookshelf, making the marionette’s hand protruding from his chest and abdomen seize the Antigonus family notebook as quickly as possible. At the same time, his right palm reached into his pocket, preparing to open the iron cigarette case, put on Creeping Hunger, and, before the sealing core could react, directly teleport away!

During this process, the scene at the doorway naturally surfaced in his mind:

A hooded figure in classical robes stood there. Her face was beautiful, yet expressionless. Her black eyes were deep, yet lacked spirituality.

That Church higher-up who directly erased Mr. A and ended the Great Smog of Backlund incident? Why would she be hidden underground? This is illogical!

Just as terror welled up inside Klein, he instinctively lowered his head and looked at his own body.

His body was like a pencil drawing visited by an eraser, rapidly being wiped away. Before he could even touch the Antigonus family notebook, he had completely vanished.