Chapter 103: Saint Raymond Cathedral
Old Vic Street, Darkland East District Police Station.
Zhou Ning sat helplessly on a bench in the inspector's office. The chair across from him was empty.
He'd been brought here nearly forty minutes ago, and still, no one had come in. Zhou Ning felt like he was being subjected to silent treatment.
About twenty minutes later, the office door finally opened. That familiar black hair, that familiar face—it was Li Tie. Sherlock came in and sat down across from Zhou Ning, his tone grave: "Sorry, I tried my best. You've been convicted of murder. You're looking at fifty years in prison, minimum."
Zhou Ning: ?
What the hell? Is he out of his mind? How childish can you get?
Seeing Zhou Ning's half-amused, half-exasperated expression, Sherlock tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Not scared? Come sign this. We've identified the victim. He was a hitman from the Covdale Cross. Someone likely hired him to deal with you. So, what do you say? Want to apply to join the Sunwatchers? They probably wouldn't dare kill one of their own, and even if you die, it counts as dying in the line of duty—comes with compensation."
"No thanks." Zhou Ning sighed as he took the file from Sherlock. He'd only wanted a peaceful life—why did trouble keep coming to him? A plant-like existence, tranquil and undisturbed, was all he ever wanted… wait, that line's from the wrong script.
He was almost certain that the one who sent someone to kill him was Harrison Rivers. Who else would go that far? As for why—Rivers probably knew he was the one who'd snuck in that night. Or maybe he didn't even need confirmation—just a suspicion would be enough for him to act.
"So, mind telling me exactly who you pissed off badly enough that they'd pay the Covdale Cross to deal with you?" Sherlock asked seriously, the joking tone gone.
What should he do? Should he tell the Sunwatchers about Harrison Rivers?
The thought flickered in Zhou Ning's mind for a few seconds before he made up his mind. It was worth the gamble.
Even though the Sunwatchers' secrecy—and outright lies—about the curse resolution methods made him wary, when it came to fighting the Curse God Cult, they were clearly allies in the same trench.
Zhou Ning glanced over the file, confirmed everything was in order, signed his name, and slid it back to Sherlock with a wry smile. "I have a good guess. I'm pretty sure it was Harrison Rivers who sent the killer."
"I previously discovered that Harrison Rivers was in contact with Elvis. After Elvis died, I tailed Harrison and found out he owns a house at No. 15 Ropewalk Avenue. Inside, there's an altar—identical to the one I encountered at the Jasonat Haunted Manor. On that altar, I found a red idol with ram horns, terrifying in appearance."
As expected, Sherlock's expression shifted. He immediately asked, "You're certain it was Sir Rivers himself?"
"Yes. He attacked me personally at No. 15 Ropewalk Avenue. I nearly died. His family creed, All Things Are Shaped by Human Will, is particularly effective against me. Fortunately, I'm good at running—I barely escaped. He didn't recognize me at the time, not until we met again at Duke West's banquet last night."
Everything Zhou Ning said was true, though he'd changed a few minor details, like saying he saw Rivers with his own eyes rather than learning it from the forum.
"I see." Sherlock nodded gravely. As a high-ranking member of the Sunwatchers, he knew exactly what Rivers' family creed entailed. This involved a noble of the kingdom—he would need to report it immediately.
"Would you mind coming with me to meet with Mr. Kien?" Sherlock asked.
"No problem," Zhou Ning answered without hesitation.
He followed Sherlock out of the station and got into a Sunwatcher carriage heading toward the Withershire Cathedral Square.
As the carriage bumped along, Zhou Ning glanced at Sherlock, who was deep in thought, and asked casually, "What about the giant? Any leads?"
He'd visited Woodgate Park once during his free time in recent days, but found absolutely nothing. Still, the mission progress had steadily increased—it was now at 17%. It seemed like Sherlock was the one driving that. Zhou Ning was curious.
"Not many clues," Sherlock replied, shaking his head. "The giant appeared again after that, this time by the lake in Upden Park. Thirteen people witnessed the event. We're still investigating the details."
Upden Park was on the northern edge of Darkland, practically on the outskirts. It was at least a two-hour carriage ride from Woodgate Park. That the giant could appear across such a vast distance was definitely strange. Zhou Ning silently mulled it over.
Before long, the carriage passed the Four Heroes Statue along the banks of the Seton River. Zhou Ning couldn't resist lifting the curtain to take a look. The first two statues were of the familiar Flame of Justice Archibald and High Priestess Louisa. The third, a hooded man holding a book and reading, was likely the simulation version of himself. His face was half-hidden, looked very cool—but didn't really resemble him.
"What's up?" Sherlock asked, curious, seeing Zhou Ning staring intently out the window.
"Nothing." Zhou Ning shook his head and smiled, feeling conflicted.
Ten minutes later, the carriage pulled to a stop near Withershire Cathedral Square. They would have to walk the rest of the way.
Zhou Ning followed Sherlock into the square, where a white marble cathedral with pointed spires stood tall.
Saint Raymond Cathedral.
Headquarters of the Ascetic Church.
Construction of the cathedral had begun in 376, the dome completed in 507, and final completion came in 969. It had taken five centuries in total. Built in the Gothic style, it featured six massive square columns separating five bronze doors—utterly majestic.
Zhou Ning followed Sherlock through the passage beside the second-to-last door. The interior of the cathedral was unlit, illuminated only by stained-glass side windows. The light was dim and mysterious. The central sun motif was inlaid with tens of thousands of pieces of mithril, adorning the image of the sun to symbolize the Sun Goddess's justice and compassion.
Legend said that in the center of the holy solar emblem, a nail once used to impale the death god Ikekiel was embedded. No matter when you entered the cathedral, you could always see the sunlight gleaming like diamonds directly in front of the main entrance—utterly divine.
Even without faith in this world's gods, Zhou Ning couldn't help lowering his head in this sacred space.
It wasn't about belief—it was pure awe at the opulence. Just the mithril in that holy emblem must've cost over a million Vecta.
The impoverished Zhou Ning couldn't help but shed a tear of poverty.
Following Sherlock deeper into the cathedral, they turned left and pushed open a large door, revealing a staircase leading downward.
"Stay close," Sherlock said gravely.
The staircase was long, lit by gas lamps on both sides. It took about three minutes to reach the bottom, where Zhou Ning saw a heavily guarded underground base.
He thought he heard faint beastly growls in the distance, though it might've been his imagination.
Sherlock approached the third door and knocked.
"Come in," came the voice of Kien West from within.
"Wayne? Sherlock? What is it?" Kien West looked up with a smile.
It was a small room. Sherlock stepped forward and quietly relayed the intel Zhou Ning had provided. Kien's smile quickly faded, replaced by a solemn expression.
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