Chapter 1
Sherry left with Ah Gou, who was still a little uneasy. Vanna and Morris also left, and the captain's room became quiet, leaving only Duncan, Alice, and the dozing pigeon.

Alice was wiping the furniture and windows in the room, while Duncan sat behind the desk, lost in long thought.

A creaking sound came from the desk as the goat-head slowly turned its head towards Duncan. "Are you still thinking about the wisdom god, Rahm?"

"Not the wisdom god—the gods," Duncan leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "The gods… what kind of connection do they have with this world?"

"Who knows? The various sects' own scriptures depict them as the creators and protectors of the earthly order, while many heretics believe the opposite. They believe that the gods twisted the world and even stole the credit for creation."

"The content that Morris saw in that 'Book of Blasphemy' has another novel explanation; the lost kings mentioned in the book seem to be the gods of today… perhaps these statements are all wrong, but they may all have correct parts…" The goat-head muttered, finally shaking his head again. "But if you ask my opinion, then my opinion is… they don't seem to be of much use. They neither make this world better nor bring anything terrible."

"But for most ordinary people in this world, the protection of the gods is real," Duncan said casually. "This protection has allowed most mortals to survive."

"Surviving—a way of maintaining the status quo," the goat-head said slowly, "like the state of Frost over the past fifty years. Before the balance was broken, who knows how many shadows of disaster were already piled up beneath the balance?"

"But at least everyone is still alive." Duncan did not comment on the goat-head's assessment. He just pondered for a moment before speaking thoughtfully.

"So, can we assume that the four gods have established a 'monitoring' or 'scanning' system for the beings of the mortal world? That they confirm the operating state of the real world by perceiving certain specific nodes, which in turn suggests that their intervention and perception of the present world is actually indirect and limited?"

"Those orthodox god sects wouldn't like your way of thinking. It sounds like you're studying some kind of machine, with no reverence for the deities."

"Reverence is the farthest distance from understanding. I don't want to revere them; I just want to understand them," Duncan said lightly. "After all, we've already helped them clean up two messes."

Footsteps echoed rhythmically in the long corridors of the cathedral, as if knocking against the accumulated time in this ancient building. Agatha, in a black dress, walked towards the depths of the sanctuary. She was not accompanied by any followers, only her own shadow accompanied this body that had lost its vitality but was still active. In the niches on both sides of the corridor, the light of gas lamps and candlesticks intertwined, making the shadows cast on the ground appear dim and erratic. Only after returning to her room and closing the door did the archbishop and gatekeeper, who had seemed calm and composed all the way, suddenly relax, lean back against the door, and let out a long sigh. She no longer needed to breathe, but "sighing" was a manifestation of humanity, and she was still accustomed to using this method as a "symbol" of her relaxation. After all, she didn't want to be too much like a corpse.

Order in the cathedral had been restored, and the small churches throughout the city-state were gradually returning to normal. The tense emotions throughout the city continued, but after the Sea Fog Fleet intervened, the chaos in various places, especially public security cases, had been quickly suppressed.

On the other hand, although the distribution of supplies and the handling of the aftermath for the victims were still a mess, and the severe shortage of manpower continued to plague every department, after the Sea Fog Fleet entered the city, "they" "magically" found a large number of professionals with administrative management skills or understanding of the city-state's grassroots operations from all corners of the city-state, and arranged for these people to enter the city hall. According to feedback from the city hall, those who were "recommended" by the Sea Fog Fleet were familiarizing themselves with and taking over the work of various departments at an astonishing speed. With just a few more days of familiarization, the problem of manpower shortage in various places would be greatly alleviated.

At the same time, the public opinion preparation required for the Sea Fog Fleet to enter the city and the propaganda work aimed at General Tirian Ebnomal were also constantly advancing; the reorganization and restructuring of the city-state's remaining navy and the Sea Fog Fleet had also begun; the new chief executive had not yet officially held his inauguration ceremony, but the city had already fallen under his control at an astonishing speed. This was a development that Frost's officials would only have imagined in nightmares, but for the current Frost… it was all good things.

Agatha could finally relax a little. A corpse would not be tired, but her spirit still needed to breathe; after leaning against the door for a few minutes, Agatha shook her head and slowly came to her dressing table, sitting down to rest. Her figure was reflected in the mirror of the dressing table, and the feeling of being watched made Agatha suddenly raise her head.

There was no one else in the room, and she did not feel any strange aura. However, the feeling of being watched was definitely not an illusion. The blind divine officer, who was blindfolded, raised her head and carefully felt any movement around her, feeling the flow of breath. Her "gaze" slowly swept around and then swept across the mirror on the dressing table. The lifeless furnishings in the room showed various blurred and dim outlines in her vision, exuding a cold aura like a tomb. However, in the next second, the feeling of being watched disappeared, and the figure in the mirror shifted its gaze.

Agatha in front of the dressing table suddenly stopped. She seemed to have noticed something. After a brief hesitation, she slowly raised her arm and stretched out her hand towards the mirror in front of her. A cold and hard touch came, it was a layer of lifeless glass. The figure in the mirror hesitated, hesitated for an unknown amount of time, before also raising its arm and stretching out its fingers, the feeling of fingertips touching suddenly came, accompanied by a little warmth;

In the next instant, new light and shadow appeared in Agatha's chaotic and dark vision—a faint, hazy outline that emitted a faint light suddenly appeared in the lifeless mirror surface. They faced each other quietly across the mirror, and the room fell into a brief silence.

After a long time, Agatha in front of the mirror suddenly broke the silence: "Are you…?" Her voice was tinged with hesitation.

"Yes," a voice seemed to drill directly into her mind.

"I'm here. When did you appear?"

"The key," the voice in Agatha's mind said calmly.

"I've been here since you got that key."

Agatha did not speak for a while. This feeling was very… strange, because she could clearly realize that the voice in her mind was her own voice. She could even feel the slight emotions revealed when the voice spoke. However, she could also clearly realize that the one who was talking to her was another individual. It was not an illusion in her mind, not a personality formed by schizophrenia, not some kind of "appendage" of her own.

"Incredible," "Incredible," the one in the mirror said, "If I had to say, the symptoms are a bit like schizophrenia? But obviously it's not. Even the most skilled psychiatrist would probably not be able to solve this problem."

"Don't cause any more trouble for the city-state's psychiatrists, they're all in trouble lately," Agatha suddenly raised her hand and rubbed her brow. The feeling of talking to "another self" was unprecedented. In the conversation, she always had the illusion that she was gradually unable to distinguish which one was "herself." Although in reality there was no cognitive confusion, she couldn't help but stop to sort out her thoughts.

After a moment, she raised her head and "looked" at herself in the mirror. "That key… preserved your soul?" Then, using that as a medium, sent you to my…" She paused here, as if she didn't know how to describe her current state. That shadow in front of her… was it in her mind or in her perception, or… just a psychological projection?

"I don't know either," the voice in her mind came, "I don't know if I have a spirit, and I don't know the details of this process. I don't even know how that key achieved all this—my consciousness has been in a chaotic state for a long time, and I've only been awake for the past two days." Then, this voice hesitated for a moment, and continued after a few seconds: "Now it seems that that key should have the power to store and transfer memories, but probably only the Frost Queen herself knows all its secrets."

"The Frost Queen…" Agatha muttered, as if to herself, "It seems that this situation needs to be told to the captain, but theoretically we should first report to the Death Sanctuary headquarters."

The Agatha in the mirror reminded. Agatha in front of the mirror was stunned when she heard this, her expression changed slightly, and she said hesitantly: "It seems… that's true."

"But the Death Sanctuary is currently cruising at the farthest end of the civilized territories, and I'm afraid they won't have time to pay attention to such a private matter." Saying this, she paused and looked up at the mirror.

"What do you think?"

The Agatha in the mirror thought for a moment. Thoughts and memories flowed slowly between them, and cognition and emotions reflected each other on both sides of the mirror. A faint green flame appeared in the eyes of Agatha in the mirror, "I also think we should tell the captain—he is obviously experienced with mirrors."