Chapter 102: Return to Harvest Church

Chapter One Hundred Two
Return to Harvest Church

In a cramped room inside the City of Silver, The Sun, Derrick Berg, sat at the edge of his bed, quietly recalling the information about the Seven Gods that he had obtained during the gathering.

Those completely unfamiliar divine names and those ancient myths that felt both similar and different were all showing him a new world entirely unlike the region in which the City of Silver stood.

“Is that a land not abandoned by gods? Or rather, a land protected by new gods?”

Derrick sat in the darkness without moving further. From time to time, lightning streaked past the window, bringing intense light.

Slowly, he focused his thoughts on the authorities each of the Seven Gods controlled and compared them with ancient deities such as Ankewelt, the Dragon of Imagination.

“The so-called God of Combat is very close to the Giant King, Aurmir. The authority of the Lord of Storms resembles the Elf King, Soniathrym. The Evernight Goddess seems like a combination of Flegrea, the Demonic Wolf King, and Lilith, the Vampire Ancestor. The Eternal Blazing Sun, the Earth Mother, the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, and the God of Steam and Machinery have no similar counterparts…

“When it comes to myths and legends, I did not listen carefully enough in class. I missed many things…

“Hoo. While there are no patrol missions during this period, I should go to the Spire library and look through the materials.”

Derrick abruptly stood, acting the moment the thought appeared.

His problem was also the problem of the vast majority of residents in the City of Silver. During general education, the focus lay on practical courses such as Demonology, Monster Classification, Charm Studies, and Basics of the Extraordinary—on knowledge that could be used to deal with monsters in the depths of the darkness and increase the yield of edible plants. When listening to auxiliary subjects such as Mythology, they were often not attentive enough.

If not for the fact that the history of the City of Silver strengthened unity among its residents and raised their sense of honor and mission, and if the six-member council had not always been strict in that regard, Derrick believed he would at most remember things that had happened in the past twenty or thirty years.

Carrying the Hurricane Axe, Derrick left his home and walked along the clean, simple, yet ancient and mottled stone road until he arrived outside the twin towers in the northern part of the city.

One of the twin towers had a pointed roof. It was the City of Silver’s library, merit exchange point, and place where daily necessities were distributed. The other had a round roof. It belonged to the six-member council, to the miraculous object said to have supported the City of Silver for more than two thousand years, and to the warehouse for formulas and materials.

Entering the spired tower, Derrick went straight to the third floor. Following his memory, he found the shelves where mythological materials and corresponding ancient books were placed.

He had just selected a text involving the creation myth and was about to pull it out when he discovered a hand with long fingers, fair skin, and beautiful shape taking the book one step before him.

Derrick followed the arm upward. After only one glance, he lowered his head, pressed a hand to his chest, and greeted in a deep voice, “Hello, Elder Lovia.”

The person who had taken the text was none other than Lovia, a member of the six-member council, the Shepherd.

Lovia wore a black robe embroidered with numerous mysterious purple patterns. Her silver-gray hair was thick and slightly curly, falling loose around her.

Her face was smooth and fair, her brows and eyes majestic and beautiful. She looked only a little over thirty. Her pale-gray eyes seemed capable of piercing through souls.

“Mm.”

Facing Derrick’s greeting, Lovia nodded lightly, said nothing more, and silently left the space between the two shelves with that ancient text in hand.

Elder Lovia seems to have become normal. Not like before, when she kept switching irregularly between different states—sometimes crying, sometimes sneering, sometimes huffing angrily, sometimes indifferent…

Such a thought instinctively flashed through Derrick’s mind.

Suddenly, he felt afraid for no reason.

Because Elder Lovia had become normal.

Normal…

…

After flipping through all the files, Klein still found no record involving animals.

Clearly, the investigation back then had ignored that issue.

“Mm. I need to remember my earlier thought. I cannot recklessly conduct the investigation myself. Setting aside whether I have special means that can sufficiently avoid a Demon’s premonition and grasp of danger, just the possibility of encountering the Nighthawks responsible for the case is already very troublesome. My goal has always been to assist: analyze the case, propose guesses, and judge whether clues are true or false…”

Klein considered what he should do next.

After understanding the abilities of Demons, he temporarily did not dare ask Stuart to investigate whether the earlier suspects had pets. That had a considerable chance of killing the other man.

“Right now, it is only a preliminary investigation without any specific direction. Stuart should not run into trouble. Demons are not the lunatics from the Aurora Order; they will not actively expose themselves. Tomorrow or the day after, Stuart should be able to submit a report. Perhaps it will contain clues hidden where others cannot perceive them.”

Klein stood and paced back and forth through the sitting room with both hands in his pockets.

The issue troubling him now was how to make the main investigators of the case include animals in their field of vision.

Directly raising it was definitely impossible. That would arouse suspicion. Guiding them too obviously in secret would be the same… Sigh. I am not a Spectator. I do not have Beyonder abilities in that area…

Klein pondered carefully, scrutinizing the matter in detail, and finally decided on a plan.

He took out letter paper, gripped his fountain pen, and wrote quickly:

“Dear Mr. Stanton,

“I thought of a problem. When the detectives discussed the case earlier, everyone believed that the murderer’s movements when killing were skilled, without signs of clumsiness, very experienced. We believed that such skill could not be innate, that it must have rich experience as its foundation—for example, a surgical student from a medical college, or a butcher from a meat shop.

“At the time, I used this to speculate that he may have committed similar cases before. That is one direction for investigation, and it is currently my main focus.

“But after thinking about it repeatedly over the past two days, I believe this line of thought is incomplete. Perhaps he did not gain experience by killing people.

“Could there be such a possibility: he used pitiful animals for practice? Living animals, and animals of different kinds.

“The number of animals that die every day in Backlund cannot be calculated, and those that vanish into the depths of the sewers are even less noticed. This is a perfect training ground.

“The above is a little immature opinion of mine. I hope to discuss it with you.

“Sherlock Moriarty.”

Klein did not directly say that the murderer might be a demonized animal. Instead, he found another reason involving practice, hoping that Isengard Stanton would thereby notice the overlooked “animal world” and remind the official Beyonders in charge.

As he wrote, he suddenly felt that this was also a direction.

Perhaps the reason that Demon had never been caught was because most of the time, it had been hunting animals.

And animals hunting animals was not something worthy of attention.

Let this be it. I hope it can bring them inspiration…

Klein folded the letter paper, dressed neatly, and went to the postbox at the end of the street to mail it.

Fifteen minutes later, Solicitor Jurgen looked through the bow window at Detective Sherlock walking past again and again. Finally, unable to resist, he opened the front door and asked politely, “Mr. Moriarty, did you forget your key?”

“Uh, something like that.”

Klein squeezed out a smile.

“Why not come to my house as a guest? After dinner, once it is dark, you can go back. I know private detectives are very skilled at climbing,” Jurgen invited with a serious expression.

That works?

Klein was stunned for a second, then smiled with genuine sincerity.

“It would be my honor.”

Solicitor Jurgen’s grandmother had the skills of a master chef!

And he could pet a cat in passing!

…

After the sky had fully darkened, Klein, having eaten and drunk his fill, rested for a while at home, then took his cane and left Minsk Street.

He planned to make another trip to Rose Street in the South Borough of the Bridge to find Bishop Utravsky and ask clearly about the Master Key’s origin.

With the help of rod divination, he smoothly arrived at Harvest Church when the night was deep and still, then slipped in using the route from last time.

However, Bishop Utravsky was not confessing in the church hall tonight. Within the silence and dim light, there were only rows of seats.

“Resting?”

Klein, slightly puzzled, walked toward the living quarters behind the hall.

He had just turned past a corner when he discovered the towering, giantlike Bishop Utravsky walking up the stairs from the basement, while someone was pounding hard on the heavy stone door below.

Who has he imprisoned in the basement?

Klein instantly thought of a whole series of unhealthy news stories.

Bishop Utravsky raised his head and saw Klein in the same disguise as before. He was also rather astonished. After a brief pause, he asked, “You still have not found your way home?”

…Do I look like someone who has been lost this entire time?

Klein tugged out a smile.

“Father, I am not lost.”

“You think the formula was false? That is impossible…”

Bishop Utravsky frowned, stopping halfway up the stairs.

With that, he and Klein were at the same height.

“No. It was real,” Klein answered honestly.

Just then, the stone door of the basement was slapped again, more and more violently, accompanied by a male voice shouting, “Let me out!”

“What is this?” Klein could not help asking.

Bishop Utravsky smiled gently.

“A vampire.”

The moment he finished, the man inside the basement shouted loudly, “What of being a vampire? Does being a vampire mean you should lock me in here? Does it mean I should have to listen to you ramble every day, listen to you recite scripture? Pah! I am a noble Sanguine. Do not describe me with such crude words!

“I am telling you, I worship the moon. I will absolutely never convert to the Earth Mother! Give up, you hateful priest!”

This was the first time Klein had encountered a real vampire. He could not help asking, “Father, where did you catch him?”

Bishop Utravsky looked at Klein with a rather odd expression.

“He was the previous owner of the Master Key.

“One day, he got lost and walked into this church.”

…

Klein seriously began considering whether he should carry the Master Key around in future.

Good thing I know divination…

He thought thankfully.

“Just so happened, he had entered a state of craving blood at the time, and I noticed the abnormality,” Bishop Utravsky added with a smile.

“Pah! Do not mention blood to me! What I need is the blood of beautiful young girls, not the blood of a filthy old man like you!” the vampire in the basement suddenly shouted irritably.

Bishop Utravsky explained without the slightest anger, “When he craves blood, I give him a little of mine.”

Klein nodded. Looking again carefully, he discovered that the heavy stone door of the basement was engraved with the Sacred Emblem of Life and many mysterious symbols, forming a complete seal.

During daytime, when more people come to pray, perhaps even the sound cannot get out…

Klein made a preliminary judgment.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Bishop Utravsky asked at that moment.

Klein answered frankly, “I want to know where the Master Key originally came from.”

“Then you will have to ask him.”

Bishop Utravsky pointed toward the basement.

The vampire inside suddenly fell silent. Immediately afterward, he gave a leisurely laugh.

“Friend, I can answer your question.

“But the prerequisite is that you first rescue me.”