56: Chapter 56 The Eve of the Storm

With the Battle of the Full Moon drawing to a close, Tingen City's brief period of peace lasted for less than two weeks.

On the first Tuesday of December, the number of dead fish on the surface of the lower reaches of the Hoi River suddenly surged threefold. In the silt of the river mouth, the harbor patrol detected an unprecedented form of spiritual pollution. This pollutant was a mixture of secretions from rotting mold, remnants of an incomplete blood sacrifice, and a third, untraceable and unrecognizable spiritual fluctuation.

Old Neil stayed in the Potion Room, repeatedly analyzing and deducing from the sample for an entire afternoon. Ultimately, in the conclusion column of the official report, he wrote down a heavy line of words: 'The characteristics of the third fluctuation align perfectly with the low-frequency pressure aftershocks inside Chanis Gate's main seal. Deep within the seal, an existence is awakening.'

On the same day, in the third section of the Iron Cross Street drainage branch pipe, the mold root system that had been dormant for days revived and grew on its own without any external stimulation.

During Leonard's routine re-inspection, he clearly saw wisps of tender white mycelium sprouting from the gaps between the stone bricks. It had been less than half a month since the entire team had sprayed holy water to purge the mold. He immediately took out his spiritual compass to investigate. The needle's deflection was far greater than it had been before the Battle of the Full Moon, and its direction had completely shifted—no longer pointing to the lower reaches of the Hoi River, but locking straight onto the depths of the underground directly beneath Chanis Gate.

By that evening, several files on the anomalies had been compiled at the Nighthawk squad's headquarters and laid out on Dunn Smith's desk.

Dunn reviewed them word by word, page by page. He then stood up, walked over to the panoramic map of Tingen City on the wall, and using a red pen, heavily circled the location of Chanis Gate with a jarring red mark.

'The pressure inside the seal continues to climb, the mold is reviving on its own without external spiritual pulses, and an unknown third pollutant has emerged.'

His voice was low and grave, carrying a trace of tense chill, yet every word was steady: 'The simultaneous occurrence of these three anomalies is by no means a coincidence. The thing inside the seal is actively pushing outward, shaking the barrier.'

'It is the Snake of Fate.'

Old Neil stood at the doorway, leaning on an ancient staff. The crystal gemstone at the tip of the staff glowed with a faint, eerie blue, its warning light already lit.

'It has been dormant deep within the Chanis seal for fifteen hundred years. Although the blood sacrifice pulse from Megose on the night of the full moon failed to tear open the seal's barrier directly, some of the violent energy was entirely devoured and absorbed by the ancient remnant souls remaining inside the seal.'

'Using this power, it has broken free from some of its shackles, regaining a weak ability to interfere with the outside world. The revival of the mold on Iron Cross Street is merely the first probing step of its awakening.'

Dunn put down the red pen, turned around to look at all the team members in the room, his gaze solemn: 'The entire squad is to enter the highest state of combat readiness immediately. All rest privileges for on-duty and on-leave personnel are canceled.'

'All sealing nodes on the periphery of Chanis Gate must be comprehensively monitored every two hours. All areas in the city with mold hazards must undergo daily routine re-inspections. The Sea Patrol will continue to track the unidentified black sail ship; the moment any anomalous trace is captured, they must immediately fire a flare to signal, and everyone will stand by to reinforce.'

As time moved to the early hours of December 5th, an urgent report from the Sea Patrol reached headquarters.

The eerie black sail ship that had appeared repeatedly emerged once more in the waters northwest of Storm Cape. This time, instead of hiding and lying dormant in the reef area, it rode the waves at full speed, heading straight for the mouth of the Hoi River.

The patrol attempted to close in to intercept and investigate, but upon coming within a hundred meters, they were blocked by a thick, powerful spiritual barrier, unable to cross even an inch.

At the end of the report, a clear and cold note read: The target vessel is expected to enter the inland channel of the Hoi River in the early hours of December 7th.

Dunn held the telegram, looking out the window, his gaze falling upon the dark and solemn bell tower of Saint Selena Cathedral in the distance.

'December 7th is tomorrow.'

He gave the order in a deep voice: 'Everyone is to remain at headquarters, with no exceptions. Tonight, all personnel will rotate on night patrol duty. No one is to take off their uniform; be ready for battle at any moment.'

December 7th, dusk.

Thick, dark clouds hung low over Tingen City. Daylight faded early, and the entire city plunged into a dense, suffocating darkness ahead of schedule.

There was neither rain nor wind, yet the waters of the Hoi River swelled inexplicably, the water level rising nearly a foot out of nowhere. Along the harbor embankment, a group of old boatmen sat in a circle chatting, the pipes at their fingertips glowing with faint embers. Every face was filled with alarm and suspicion as they discussed the matter endlessly.

Some speculated that Storm Cape had whipped up a gale in the open sea, forcing seawater back into the river mouth. However, more experienced elders shook their heads in disagreement; the river's surface was flat and waveless, by no means the work of wind and waves. Instead, it seemed as though something colossal was slowly shifting deep beneath the riverbed, pushing the water upward.

During the final routine inspection of the evening, the mold in the third section of the Iron Cross Street drainage branch pipe had fully returned to the rampant scale seen before the Battle of the Full Moon.

Upon the damp stone walls, the familiar concentric circles of mold took shape once more, slowly growing distinct. On the surface of the blank stone bricks in the innermost ring, a very faint layer of dark green veins quietly appeared, bizarre and secretive.

Daly raised her hand to activate her Spirit Mediumship, sweeping her spiritual perception across the bizarre veins. When she withdrew her hand, her usually calm face instantly turned deathly pale, her brow furrowed with an unbelievable gravity.

'These are not runes; they are words.'

Her voice sank as she revealed the horrifying truth: 'The existence underground is writing on the stone wall. These dark green veins are Hermes script. The writing speed is extremely slow, yet it becomes clearer and more complete with every passing second. The letters formed so far spell out—"ring of the snake".'

At that very moment, in the confinement room on the second underground floor of the Nighthawk headquarters.

In the dead silent, dim room, Ince Zangwill suddenly sat bolt upright from his iron-framed bed.

The old scar in his left palm was continuously oozing a dark green fluorescence. The faint light penetrated the layers of wrapped bandages, illuminating half of his face in a play of light and shadow, bizarre and eerie.

He lowered his eyes, staring intently at the anomaly in his palm. His lips parted slightly as he murmured in a low voice, seemingly to himself, yet sounding like a prophecy that foresaw everything: 'It is coming out.'

'The ring of the snake, the Key of Blood, when the moon is full, the Door opens of its own accord... The world believes the Door can only be breached from the outside, yet they forget that from within the seal, one can also push the Door open.'

'After lying dormant for fifteen hundred years, accumulating power for a millennium, what it has been waiting for is this single push today to shake the seal.'

As his voice fell, he gently placed his right hand over his glowing left palm and slowly closed his eyes. The atmosphere around him grew increasingly bizarre and silent.

At eleven o'clock at night, only one last hour remained until midnight.

By the window of the lounge, Klein stood quietly, his gaze piercing through the dark windowpanes toward the dead silent spire of Saint Selena Cathedral's bell tower.

He had already completed all preparations for combat supplies, charms, and rituals. Yet since dusk, the gray fog suspended within his body had been constantly echoing with a low, continuous hum.

That was no illusion, but a warning from a higher dimension, cold and certain—an irreversible catastrophe was drawing closer step by step.

His fingertips instinctively reached into his sleeve, touching the last paper figurine close to his body. The paper figurine trembled slightly in his palm, and on its back, a line of faint but clear writing in gray fog slowly emerged:

[The seal pressure has reached the critical threshold; the breakthrough time window is locked around midnight.]

Klein collected his thoughts, folded the paper figurine back into place, turned, and pushed open the lounge door.

In the adjacent Potion Room, Lu Li had already completed the final inventory and verification of all combat readiness supplies.

Twelve bottles of concentrated holy water, eight bottles of spiritual resistance potion, six pairs of sealed rune gloves, four high-precision portable compasses, twenty portable copper bottles of holy water, and twelve emergency flares—all combat supplies were fully accounted for and neatly arranged, ready to be put to use at any moment.

Old Neil walked slowly to the safe, took out the long-sealed silver snake key, and gently placed it in the center of a lead tray.

The garnet embedded in the key's handle was alternating between light and dark at a constant, steady frequency, its pulsing rhythm perfectly matching a human heartbeat without the slightest discrepancy.

Pressing his finger gently against the snake-eye pattern at the top of the key, he spoke in a deep voice, his tone incredibly grave:

'The Antigonus bloodline imprint inside the key has been fully activated. Having sensed the shaking power deep within the seal, it has completely entered a state of resonance.'

'From this moment on, it is no longer a simple Sealed Artifact, but a two-way spiritual beacon. The Snake of Fate can use it to locate all holders of the snake emblem on the outside, and we can also use it to open a temporary passage connecting the inside and outside of the seal.'

'From beginning to end, the goal of that client behind the scenes was never to assist Roy King in completing the incomplete Spirit Descent Ritual.'

Old Neil's gaze was deep as he deconstructed the layers of the scheme: 'He planned meticulously, using everyone's actions to pave the way. The backup rune Roy King buried in Iron Cross Street, the guiding runes Ince Zangwill carved in the ventilation shaft, the blood sacrifice pulse unleashed by Megose's sacrifice at the lighthouse...'

'All the anomalies of the Battle of the Full Moon, everyone's schemes and sacrifices, will ultimately converge into the ultimate spiritual resonance he needs at the exact moment the seal is breached from the inside.'

'He only needs to wait for us to use the jiaowei to open the entrance to the ruins, and he can use the resonance echoing between the inside and outside to complete the final step of the Spirit Descent Ritual, reaping the benefits without lifting a finger.'

Lu Li raised his hand, took out the jiaowei sealing box from the confidential safe, and gently placed it beside the silver snake key, his eyes calm and clear: 'If he truly holds the other half of the snake emblem token, he must have locked onto the coordinates of the ruins' entrance long ago. Tonight at midnight, he will definitely show up in person, waiting at the entrance.'

At the exact instant his voice fell, the bell tower of Saint Selena Cathedral in the distance resounded with the tolling of the midnight bell.

The moment the first toll of the bell pierced the deep night and echoed across the skies of Tingen, inside the Chanis Gate seal maintenance room, over a dozen needles on the monitoring instruments spiked simultaneously, all reaching the red danger critical line.

Almost at the exact same second, the concentric circles of mold in the Iron Cross Street drainage branch pipe suddenly contracted and closed.

The unfinished line of Hermes script on the inner ring of the stone wall was fully formed, every word clear. It was no longer just the brief 'ring of the snake,' but a complete, mysterious prophecy:

'The ring of the snake, the Key of Blood, the Door has opened.'

The moment the writing took shape, all the mycelium suddenly spontaneously combusted. Eerie dark green flames spread rapidly along the gaps between the stone bricks, devouring the entire stone wall, dragging the sealed land that had been silent for thousands of years completely into the eve of the impending storm.