That towering figure vanished into the clouds.

The wind gradually returned to calm, the smoke would take time to dissipate, and after the shadows receded, a scarred city-state remained.

"There are survivors here! It's a little girl!"

A slightly excited shout broke the silence of the cemetery. A guardian warrior opened the door of the watchman's hut and found the girl huddled inside.

The cold wind blew into the hut from outside, carrying the smell of gunpowder. Annie raised her head blankly, looking at the black-clad guard who appeared in the doorway. For a moment, she seemed to see another person behind the young warrior, a hunched figure with gloomy eyes.

She got up blankly and took a step forward subconsciously, stumbling towards the door, trying to grab that hunched figure.

She lunged at empty air, her foot twisted, and then she felt someone grab her collar from behind—the guardian warrior grabbed the girl who had almost fallen while trying to run past him, and then bent down to her: "Are you okay, little one—what's your name? Why are you in the cemetery?"

But Annie didn't seem to hear the voice beside her. She just raised her head, slowly looking around, searching for the old man she had just seen.

The hunched old man was not far away. He had already turned around, waved his hand at them with his back turned, and then slowly walked towards a path deep in the cemetery. At the end of that path, a particularly tall figure stood silently.

That figure was draped in a black robe reminiscent of the night, and its body under the robe was covered in bandages. It held a long staff that seemed to be carved from withered wood. Its appearance looked... just like the watchman in front of the Bartok Gate, as described in church books.

The old man came to the watchman, and the two seemed to have a brief conversation, then disappeared like phantoms at the end of the path.

Annie stared blankly in that direction, standing quietly in the cold wind, neither crying nor moving.

The black-clad guard beside her was a little worried: "What's wrong? Little girl? What are you looking for?"

"She might be looking for this." Another voice suddenly came from the nearby path, accompanied by the sound of boots stepping on the snow.

Annie turned her head subconsciously.

A nun was walking towards them, holding two things in her hand—a staff that looked battered and worn, and a hunting rifle that looked somewhat familiar.

"Your protector is gone," the nun stopped in front of Annie, slowly squatted down, and placed the two things on the ground. "Unfortunately, we can't let you see him again—there's only ashes at the scene."

Annie stared at the staff and hunting rifle on the ground. After a few seconds, she bent down, picked them up, and hugged them carefully in her arms.

"I know," she murmured softly, "Grandpa Watchman went with the Gatekeeper..."

"Don't touch the gun," the black-clad guard warrior subconsciously reached out to stop her, "It's danger..."

"There are no bullets left," the nun shook her head and said softly, "Let her hold it for a while, they might be acquaintances."

The guardian warrior hesitated, retracted his hand, then turned his head and surveyed the situation in the cemetery.

Dirty, dried-up black mud covered the area around the path, surrounding the watchman's hut, and dirty snow mixed with the mud covered the entire cemetery.

How many monsters had tried to attack this place, and how much filth had been dumped in the snow here? Now that the shadows had receded, everything... seemed unknowable.

A slightly cool sensation suddenly came. The guardian raised his head and saw that snowflakes were slowly falling from the sky—not ashes, but real snowfall.

Accompanying these fluttering snowflakes was a ray of light in the sky, the light of the sun—the gloomy clouds blocked it, but that hazy light still demonstrated its existence.

The sun was back.

The mechanical roar of a steam engine grew closer from outside the cemetery. A steam car stopped outside the gate. A guardian squad operating near the cemetery noticed the movement, approached the car, and then saluted the person who got out of the car in astonishment.

Footsteps came towards the watchman's hut. The young black-clad guard saw the newcomer, immediately turned around and saluted, then opened his mouth with some doubt: "Gatekeeper, what are you..."

"I'm here to check the situation of the cemeteries."

Annie, who was staring blankly at the staff and hunting rifle, finally woke up from her daze when she heard the voice beside her. She subconsciously raised her head and looked in the direction of the voice.

A woman in a black cleric's robe stood on the path.

Her skin was pale, and she was surrounded by a calm but cold aura—Annie couldn't understand what this aura was, but she associated it with the cold fog at sea. At the same time, she noticed that almost every inch of the woman's exposed skin was covered with cuts, and there was no blood in those wounds, like... a cracked doll.

Black cloth was wrapped around the woman's eyes.

The woman seemed to be blind, but Annie felt that the other person's "gaze" was falling on her, a calm and gentle gaze that pierced through the thick black cloth and was watching her.

It took Annie a long time to recognize the woman.

But the woman had obviously recognized her from the beginning. "I know your name is Annie," Agatha bent down, gently ruffled Annie's hair, then her eyes fell on the hunting rifle and staff in the girl's hand. She was silent for two seconds, then stood up and said to the cleric who accompanied her, "The area around the mines was the first to be invaded. These cemeteries surrounding the Upper City mining area blocked a large number of monsters pouring into the surrounding streets."

"All the gravediggers and guardians stationed around the cemeteries were almost completely wiped out," the nun slowly said, "The city-state guards in this area also suffered heavy losses."

Agatha listened in silence, then prayed silently.

"Gatekeeper," the black-clad guard couldn't help but say, "There are many casualties in the city-state now, and we need to be vigilant about secondary disasters in the areas of death, fear, and obsession. We may need several large-scale requiem rituals, but the cathedral hasn't..."

"I am temporarily assuming the duties of the Archbishop, so there is no need to worry about the requiem rituals," Agatha said calmly, "Bishop Ivan has departed. He has a new journey."

The black-clad guard was stunned, and a shocked and unacceptable expression briefly appeared in his eyes. It seemed that only at this moment did he notice the change in Agatha's attire—

The Gatekeeper had taken off the black coat representing force, and replaced it with a robe that was more symbolic of a cleric.

This symbolized the change in her current identity and responsibilities.

"Don't worry, I still bear the responsibility of the Gatekeeper, and the guardian force is still under my command, until the church headquarters selects a new Archbishop, or a new Gatekeeper replaces my position. At that time, I may become the official bishop of this city-state," Agatha, despite losing her eyes, seemed to still have keen vision. She noticed the reaction of her subordinates and patiently explained, "At this stage, maintaining order in the city-state is above all else."

"Yes... Gatekeeper."

The young black-clad guard lowered his head. After a brief hesitation, he chose to use the familiar name "Gatekeeper" to address his superior.

Agatha didn't care about these trivial matters. She turned her gaze, her "eyes," back to Annie.

"Go home," she said gently, "Your mother is safe, she's waiting for you."

Annie hesitated for a moment at first, but after Agatha mentioned her mother, she nodded immediately.

But just as she was about to leave with the guardians, she suddenly stopped again.

"Grandpa Watchman... just left with the Gatekeeper," she raised her head and looked at Agatha, "Ah, I'm referring to the Gatekeeper on 'that side' mentioned in the books."

Agatha frowned slightly.

Annie thought the other party didn't believe her, and quickly raised her hand, pointing to the path deep in the cemetery: "He left from there..."

Agatha raised her head and looked thoughtfully in the direction Annie was pointing.

In the position of her eyes covered with black cloth, a faint green light seemed to flash.

After a moment, she lowered her head and looked into Annie's eyes.

"Do you... want to become a guardian?"

Annie was a little dazed, and didn't seem to understand what this meant.

But after a few seconds, she seemed to vaguely react: "Is it like you or Grandpa Watchman?"

"That might take many years," a smile seemed to appear on Agatha's face, then she shook her head gently, "Don't think so much about it yet, it seems a bit early for me to say this to you now—go home first. If you really want to become a guardian, you must at least be able to get into the most basic church school."

Annie seemed to understand, but then reluctantly handed the hunting rifle and staff in her hands to the black-clad guard next to her.

"...If I become a guardian, can you give me Grandpa Watchman's hunting rifle and staff?"

She suddenly turned her head and looked at Agatha very seriously.

After a moment, Agatha nodded gently: "...If you still think so in three years, I agree."

Annie left.

The cemetery was quiet again.

"...Are you serious? That child is too young, and there's no sign of any potential. Inheriting an old soldier's staff requires more than just graduating from the guardian's regular training..."

"She can see the guides in the world of the dead," Agatha said calmly, staring at the path at the end of the cemetery, "Just like I did back then."

The young black-clad guard stopped talking.

The nun on the other side hesitated again and again, but couldn't help but look at Agatha with some worry: "Your body, what exactly..."

"It's okay," Agatha shook her head and said softly, "Something happened, and this shell was damaged."

(End of this chapter)