Chapter 1 When the First Abomination Charged

As the first malformed freak roared and charged, Agatha simply stepped aside slightly. In the instant she passed the enemy, she tapped the monster's limb with her staff, instantly incinerating it in "Cremation." Before the pale flames hit the ground, she raised her staff and pointed forward, drawing a dazzling white line from the fire and sending it hurtling into the passage ahead, burning the hideous monsters like flowing fire.

She was careful to avoid large movements, reducing the effects of fatigue and pain. She also avoided contact with the freaks, minimizing mental exhaustion – as she didn't know how many endless monsters awaited her, and she needed to conserve her strength.

She wasn't afraid of death. She knew her body could still fight after death until it turned to ashes, and those ashes would float in this cursed place, continuing to purify the repulsive monsters. She had never feared this, but before embracing death, she still wanted to investigate the truth here and stop the heretics if possible.

The attacks she encountered along the way became more frequent, and the movements of those malformed freaks became more frantic. This faintly proved one thing – she was heading in the right direction, and ahead lay the heretics' lair.

More black sludge seeped from the nearby walls and vaults. Every pore and every brick seam was a breeding ground for those deformed things. Due to the terrain, the way these "imitations" appeared became even more bizarre and troublesome.

A soft hiss came from behind. Alarm bells went off in Agatha's mind. She felt her body sluggish with fatigue, only able to twist around at the critical moment, using her staff to block the blow. With a sharp pain in her shoulder, she saw a dazzling spark erupt from the middle of the staff, and a figure in black robes, holding a guardian's staff, was knocked away.

The figure fell to the ground and writhed like some disgusting mollusk, crawling back up. It raised its head, and beneath the black top hat was a face that seemed to melt and flow, slowly deforming. In that horrifying face, one could faintly discern some familiar outlines.

The next second, the flowing face solidified, transforming into a young man with distinct facial features. He looked up at Agatha, a puzzled expression on his face. "Captain? What are you doing here?"

Agatha's fingers on the staff turned slightly white, her gaze freezing for a second.

Almost at the same time, she heard a voice—a voice that seemed to resonate throughout the sewer, whispering to her: "Ah, you recognize him—when you were not yet a Gatekeeper, your loyal deputy covered your retreat from the darkness... you left him there... take him back, shall we?"

Agatha did not respond, but silently stepped forward. After three steps, she turned into a gray wind, which then abruptly stopped and condensed in front of the young "Guardian." When her figure reappeared, the tin staff in her hand was already deeply embedded in the black-robed guardian's chest.

The young black-robed guardian looked at this scene in astonishment, as if unable to believe he would die at the hands of his trusted "Captain." But suddenly, he seemed to understand something, muttering softly, "So it's over..."

"I'm sorry, it will be over soon," Agatha said softly.

The young black-robed guardian slowly lowered his head and laughed. "Captain, you've finally mastered the power of the Ash Wind..."

"Yes, I practiced for a long time," Agatha said softly. Pale flames rose before her eyes, and the "black-robed guardian's" body melted and disintegrated in "Cremation," turning into a pile of black dust.

"Decisive, ruthless, befitting your identity as a saint of the god of death."

That disgusting voice echoed once again. Agatha turned around and saw more malformed freaks taking shape, with "imitations" surging towards her from all directions. The owner of that voice obviously did not believe in chivalry. Even while "attacking her mind," he was constantly directing these minions to attack.

The sound of flames exploding, the staff striking, and the air being torn apart echoed in the underground corridor. Agatha, while defending against the freaks' attacks, said in a deep voice: "These little tricks

can only irritate me, but they can't delay my progress. On the contrary, anger will only make me find your hiding place faster. How does that benefit you?"

"...Indeed, you're angry. You look even fiercer than before, but it doesn't matter—a little emotional fluctuation is also necessary, Miss Gatekeeper."

The voice echoing in the corridor seemed to gradually fade away, but Agatha's heart stirred—a little emotional fluctuation is also necessary? What did that sentence mean?

However, no one here could answer her question. The owner of that voice had only one purpose: to constantly weaken her strength and delay her progress by using cannon fodder. Now he had left, leaving behind only another batch of monsters that had just "seeped" out of the surrounding walls.

Agatha's eyes narrowed, and she faced her enemies again.

"Our warriors are engaged in battle with the enemy!"

A green flare suddenly cut through the dimness of the second waterway. The figure of the pigeon Aiyi rushed out of the flames and "smashed" straight onto Duncan's shoulder, flapping its wings and shouting in a sharp, grating voice.

This suddenly appearing dumb bird and its sharp cries startled Duncan, almost dropping Alice's head.

Duncan, who had been searching in this dry and empty underground corridor for half a day, immediately glared and turned to look at the pigeon spirit on his shoulder, which was covered in flames. "What the hell are you squawking about?"

Aiyi tilted its head, its small eyes staring straight at Duncan, nodding seriously. "Our Tanshee (scout) is under attack! Our Tanshee is under attack! The situation is too unfavorable for us… Our warriors are engaged in battle with the enemy!"

Alice, holding her head, leaned over. "Captain, did Aiyi eat something bad?"

Aiyi turned to glare at the doll, stretched out its neck and pecked the latter's head twice, making "dong dong" sounds, then yelled at the top of its lungs, "Is it appropriate, is it appropriate, is it appropriate…"

Alice yelped from the pecks, hugging her head and running away.

Duncan didn't pay attention to the commotion around him. After hearing Aiyi yell for the second time, his face had already turned serious, and then he looked thoughtfully in a certain direction.

"You two be quiet," he suddenly broke the silence after a few seconds, looking at the passage on the other side of the corridor with a particularly solemn expression. "Aiyi might have sensed something."

Alice instantly became quiet and looked in the direction of Duncan's gaze.

"It's the mark I left… It's that 'Gatekeeper'," Duncan's voice sounded as he stepped forward. "She's nearby."

Alice looked in that direction, then suddenly widened her eyes.

"Ah, a line!"

The doll let out a short exclamation and then ran over quickly – she was even faster than Duncan, like an anxious child rushing to grab a balloon that was about to fly away. She trotted to the vicinity of the intersection, then jumped up to grab something invisible in the air.

Duncan only saw Alice run over, jumping around in front to grab things in the air, and then, he seemed to vaguely see something really appear in Alice's hand.

Some white, almost transparent, lines that slightly refracted the ambient light in the air… lines.

He strode over, and Alice turned her head, a happy and bright smile on her face.

"I caught…"

The doll's happy smile only lasted for a moment. The next second, the faint lines in her hand suddenly began to break and fracture, and quickly dissipated into the air like accelerated weathering.

"Ah!" Alice exclaimed, "The line is broken!"

But before her exclamation could finish, a tall and burly figure had already strode over from the side. Duncan reached out towards the fractured and weathered "line," and a line end that was about to completely dissipate fell into his hand.

Instantly, a layer of ghostly green light was stained on the line.

Duncan slowly turned his head. He looked into Alice's eyes, and Alice's wide eyes reflected a cluster of dancing ghostly green.

"I caught it." Duncan said softly.

A malformed freak turned to ashes in pale flames, another malformed freak had its head smashed by a staff and collapsed like soft mud. Agatha turned her body, the fighting staff in her hand slicing through the air, slamming hard at the last enemy still standing at the intersection.

Then, her movements suddenly stopped.

Completely out of instinct, without time to think, a huge sense of fear and shock directly stunned her entire mind. She even felt her muscles and bones creaking horribly at that moment. A powerful force originating from spiritual intuition – perhaps even a direct warning from Bartok, the god of death – suddenly stopped her movement.

She saw her staff stop, stopping less than a few millimeters from the head of the last "imitation" that had just crawled out of the mud.

Her eyes widened as she watched the humanoid figure formed entirely of flowing mud slowly raise its head. A pair of eyes gradually condensed in the position of its head, ghostly green flames burning on the surface of its body, and a low voice crackled in the flames.

"Agatha, need some help?