Ashes Of Deep Sea-Chapter 273 - 277: A New Storm
Chapter 273: Chapter 277: A New Storm
Fenna and Valentin were both stunned by the sudden turn of events. The “judgment” of Pope Helena was less like a solemn religious ruling and more like a deliberate orchestration toward a predetermined outcome—the conversation just now was merely a formality.
Such a hasty “ruling” was naturally hard for Fenna, the Judge, to accept, and it was just as difficult for Valentin beside her. They exclaimed in unison, “Your Holiness…”
“It’s enough, it’s enough; there’s nothing wrong with a little change in life. Like a Storm, it’s always the most unpredictable,” Helena waved her hand, interrupting Fenna and Valentin, “And don’t easily fall into despair, Saint Fenna—being relieved of your duties as a Judge doesn’t necessarily mean punishment; it simply means you are temporarily unsuited for the job, perhaps… the Storm has other plans for you?”
At these words, Fenna hesitated, seemingly catching some deeper meaning in Helena’s tone. Just as she was about to question further, she saw the Pope in front of her shake her head.
“Let’s leave it at that for now. There are some things I need to see with my own eyes before deciding,” Helena said lightly, “Prand… It’s been many years since I last set foot on this land.”
She paused slightly.
“You all go back to the upper levels first; the elevator is ready. I will complete a prayer here—it won’t take long, we’ll meet on the upper deck.”
Almost before they had time to react, Fenna and Valentin were “hurried” back into the elevator, and not until the elevator reached the top, not until they left the cabin and walked along the corridor towards the upper deck, did Valentin break the silence in a whisper, “Fenna, how do you feel now?”
He really could think of no better way to break this awkward silence.
Fenna stopped in her tracks.
Valentin stepped aside a bit.
“Are those two steps back serious?”
“I’m afraid you are serious.”
“Still making deadpan jokes, it seems you also realize the unusualness of the situation,” Fenna shook her head, speaking softly, “To be honest, my initial reaction was disbelief and difficulty accepting. This rushed and hasty ‘ruling’ felt more like a poor joke and should not have come from the mouth of Her Holiness, but when I recalled the details in her words just now, I feel… she seems to have a deeper meaning.”
With that, she exhaled softly, “I think I should wait patiently for the ‘other plans the Storm has’ that Her Holiness mentioned.”
“Your calmness and logic indeed far exceed that of ordinary people—faced with such an unexpected situation, most people would not be able to calmly think it through so quickly,” Valentin took a step forward, speaking as he walked, “But more than that, I’m concerned about something else right now.”
Fenna frowned, “Something else?”
“To relieve a Judge of her duties, there must be a new Judge to take over, and the position of a City-State Judge, such an important role, must be ‘tested’ and appointed by the Pope herself—you should be clear about this process,” Valentin said slowly, “But Her Holiness didn’t mention anything about this… This should have been a ‘necessary item’ announced at the same time or even in advance of the dismissal.”
Involuntarily, Fenna furrowed her brow but did not speak for a moment, while Valentin continued, “Moreover, she chose to announce your dismissal in a secret ‘chamber’ unknown to anyone else. According to church law, the secrets granted by the Pope in a chamber are not to be spoken by others, whatever the secrets may be; this is a kind of ‘security code.'”
Fenna had to admit that her young self was not as thoroughly versed in the Storm scriptures as the senior clergyman Valentin! She hadn’t thought of these key points at all!
“You mean…”
“Your dismissal will not be known to anyone,” Valentin said calmly, looking into Fenna’s eyes, “nor will there be a new Judge to take over your duties.”
Fenna paused, her brow furrowing slightly, “Then how should I continue to fulfill my duties in Prand?”
“I don’t know,” Valentin said softly, looking up at the exit of the corridor ahead, after a moment of thought, he continued, “But I suspect you may not need to continue your duties in Prand for much longer.”
…
In the vast space, Pope Helena stood quietly among the dim firelight. After an unknown amount of time, she finally raised her head, her gaze toward the dark distance.
This was the bottommost part of the Pilgrimage Ark, an area rarely accessed by ordinary people and utterly unknown to them. She called it “the belly of the beast,” which was, in a sense, quite accurate.
Helena moved forward, stepping past the burning braziers, to a place previously unlit by the flames.
One cluster of flames spread with her steps, gradually illuminating the dim space, revealing those things previously unseen in the darkness.
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On the ground was a tangled network of vessels, from the high domed ceiling hung massive tumors or neural nodes, dangling nerve fibers, and vascular supports, and giant pale supports that resembled a skeleton.
These things, once hidden in the darkness, were now fully revealed to Helena as the firelight spread.
She finally stopped in front of a massive “pillar.”
This pillar was made of a large number of complex structures, coiled and stacked upon one another, with a bumpy surface, and it was wrapped with numerous nerve fibers and vascular systems, emerging like bas-reliefs. In the depths of these nerve systems, one could faintly see the complex metal wires and the glittering silver pins, as if they were creeping down from above.
At the top of the pillar, on the dim dome above, one could also see an even denser cluster of dangling organs that riddled with furrows on their surface, resembling… brains.
Helena gazed steadily at the pillar for a long time, then reached out her hand and slowly ran it over the bumpy grooves formed by the nerve fibers.
“Academy of Truth… Such incredible technology,” she murmured in admiration, “Who would have thought that the dead Leviathan could be ‘resurrected’ in this way…”
No sooner had she finished speaking than a deep, writhing sound suddenly emanated from the pillar. Then a hoarse, ancient voice rose from somewhere within the structure, “Firstly, I was never truly dead to begin with, and secondly, I don’t consider myself to be ‘alive’—describing Leviathan in terms of life and death is a very imprecise way to speak, young lady.”
“…I thought you were sleeping.”
“I do spend most of my time sleeping, but today you prayed to Queen Gomona with unusual solemnity, and you’ve brought a stranger to this place. I felt that I should be awake no matter what.”
Helena’s mouth seemed to twitch: “…Did you find the scene to your satisfaction?”
“I just think you’re quite impersonal,” the hoarse, ancient voice came again, “She was doing quite well, wasn’t she? There isn’t a Judge in any of the City-States who has surpassed her in the composite evaluations. You just dismissed her like that, without a good reason… We all know that if she can continue to fulfill her duties, that reason carries very little weight.”
“It’s the arrangement of the Storm Overlord,” Helena said flatly.
The hoarse, ancient voice clearly paused for a moment before replying, “…Oh, then I have no problem.”
Helena shook her head helplessly, “I thought you would at least ask why.”
However, this time there was no response from the hoarse, ancient voice.
He had fallen asleep.
…
On the vast expanse of the Endless Sea, the steel warship Sea Mist was slicing through the waves, and as the ship gradually “healed,” and its engines were now at full power, the thin layer of Frost once again manifested around the ship, continuously forming small blocks of ice on the nearby sea surface.
Tirian made his way to the bow, gazing at a wide-open expanse of sea ahead.
For some reason, he felt a vague sense of unease.
At first, he assumed it was an aftereffect of the “paternal injury,” the pressure accumulated from seeing his father several times in the seas and the city of Praland. However, as the Sea Mist sailed further and further from Praland, this unease did not diminish but grew stronger.
It even began to irritate him.
It seemed as if something was about to happen, or perhaps… had already happened, and this matter was very likely related to himself.
He trusted his Transcendent intuition in this regard.
Tirian took a deep breath, resting his hands on the railing in front of him, frowning in thought.
Just then, as if to confirm this growing sense of unease, a slightly urgent set of footsteps suddenly approached from behind.
Tirian turned abruptly and saw First Officer Aiden approaching him.
This usually composed first officer now wore an expression of anxiety on his face.
Tirian immediately furrowed his brow, “What’s happened?”
“We’ve just received an urgent Spiritual Energy message from the home port at the small chapel. Something has happened in the seas near Frost.”
“Near Frost?” Tirian felt his heart skip a beat, pressing, “What’s the situation?”
“…An ancient diving apparatus has suddenly appeared in the waters near Frost,” Aiden said, unable to help taking a breath, “It’s ‘Diver Number Three’—the eighth one.”