Chapter 210: The Entrance

"Mr. Kraft, I understand you need some leisure time to rest, but are you truly certain this is our destination for today?"

"What, is there a problem?" Kraft changed into casual clothes, enjoying the rare fresh air outdoors. "It's reasonable to visit some ancient sites since we've come to Dunling just once."

Kup glanced at the wasteland half-hidden by waist-high weeds. A few visitors hurried by, carrying digging and stone-chiseling tools on their backs, shouldering heavy objects wrapped in cloth strips. "That's true, but does Dr. Dai Wei know you skipped half a clinic session to sightsee at a graveyard?"

"It's fine, I told him. We won't act without certainty; we'll leave it for me to handle." This was a small step for slacking off, but a giant leap for Dai Wei's assumption of heavy responsibility. If the latter performed well, the Academy might add a peripheral member.

Kraft had already worked and taught at high intensity for a whole week. If he hadn't curiously mentioned it, he might not have remembered his original plan was to wait until next month.

They stood in a rare open space near the suburbs, about half a city district away from Dai Wei's clinic, and even farther from the University's old town. The expanding city district intentionally stopped at a certain boundary, forming a huge gap around it, with streets not connecting to the broken paths amidst the wild grass.

The university's carriage driver refused to go closer upon reaching the outskirts and politely dissuaded the two guests from their plan, claiming that souls dying from impurity were difficult for any place to accept and mostly lingered here.

"I suppose you aren't the type to jump up over two bones. In fact, this is indeed an ancient site. Look beneath our feet; it must be quite old."

Even though plant roots had heaved and cut it into pieces, one could still see the fragmented road surface was constructed of cut stone, and when intact, it should have been in better condition than the roads within the city district.

Mostly underground, on rocks protruding at the corners, the traces of artificial modification finally vanished, worn down to look identical to natural creations. Only by observing their clustered and scattered positions, combined with the equally dilapidated roads, could one see that a considerable architectural complex once stood here.

Mere decades could not have allowed the earth to swallow stone buildings of such scale; this was likely a remnant from much earlier times.

A special purpose made local residents refuse to build new structures on the foundations of the previous generation, even not taking the stone materials within a few feet, as if subconsciously believing that these substances of utmost rigidity and strength would also be infected by the form-plague qi.

So these things lay there quietly until even their original purpose became unknown.

The two found an entrance on a low stone wall of questionable utility, along with a small hut made of leftover planks. The most formal item was the holy symbol, which was not enshrined but hung outside the door.

An old gravekeeper with dry, messy hair sat on a wooden stool at the door, gnawing on a handful of fruit with more pits than flesh, casually tossing the pits into the nearby sewer drain. Seeing the two who did not look like they were there for normal funeral affairs, his single remaining normal eye became alert.

It seemed that even the most despised place remained under the Church's control. The intensity of control might not be reliable, but it clearly conveyed one meaning: the graveyard was not a lawless zone.

That gaze made Kraft feel quite uncomfortable, like a security guard at a school gate who could distinguish teachers, current students, students from other schools, or idle social elements mixed in, through some intuition formed by experience.

"Hello, we are with the group ahead." Pointing to a procession that had just passed, Kraft tried to bluff his way through.

The old gravekeeper moved his chair to the middle of the road, blocking the way, not understanding why the other party didn't just climb the wall directly. "Except for those who specialize in collecting corpses, even the relatives of the dead rarely go in. Who are you?"

"Alright, actually we are from the Medical School. We hope to investigate the number of people in Dunling who died of tuberculosis, which might help improve understanding of the local prevalence of this disease."

"Oh, is that so!" He blinked his eyes, including the pale one with a cloudy pupil, revealing an understanding expression, then refused without a second of hesitation. "No."

"Why?"

A rusty iron shovel clanged heavily on the ground, indicating the gravekeeper's attitude—Why do you ask?

Kraft realized the matter was probably truly hard to explain, so he tried a communication method easier to bridge the gap between people. "For the sake of the Heavenly Father, I hope to provide some material assistance for the maintenance of the dwelling place of these poor souls after death."

"Do you know what place that is?"

Following the direction pointed to by the finger wrapped in a layer of dust and ash, one could see a spire higher than the average not far away, clearly displaying its identity. "Believe me, people from the Inquisition sometimes come to visit the church over here."

"I think six silver coins should be a good price."

"Sir, no matter where you come from, trying to insult my faith in the Heavenly Father with silver coins is a delusion." The old man looked at the holy symbol hanging on the shed door; perhaps on a post that especially needed spiritual protection, it was naturally easier to produce firm believers.

"I'm not talking about black silver coins."

"Still no..."

"Seven. That's enough for you to exchange for a new holy symbol handled by a priest, which is better than this thing." Some inexplicable, subtle itching, like someone teasing the hairs on the back of his neck with a strand of hair, increased the damp heat and irritability brought by the weather, wearing down his patience, making Kraft instinctively want to end this negotiation and leave as soon as possible.

The hand holding the shovel loosened. The gravekeeper felt the chair seat seemed a bit hot. "You are making it very difficult for me."

"If not, I'll go somewhere else."

"I don't want to see anyone openly bringing something out through the main gate." Taking the small object with a pleasant metallic sound, he stood up, moved the chair aside, and sat to the side. "Also, do you have fire?"

This made one suspect the other party's non-functional parts were both eyes, unable to distinguish day from night. "Fire?"

"Forget it, consider it a free gift. If you don't dare to go down later, remember to return it." A soot-blackened lantern was stuffed into Kraft's hand. The gravekeeper thoughtfully lit the fire for him, not even demanding it must be returned.

Kraft had no intention of lingering at the door. He thanked the other party for the free gift and hurriedly chased after the direction of the funeral procession ahead, whose backs were all that remained visible.

Within the optional walls of the cemetery, the environment was basically consistent with the outside. There was no newly turned earth, no buried objects exposed by rain washing. Tall grass and a few ruins with faint carving traces were still the main theme here.

Obviously, attempting to break ground here would be difficult without ruining several tools, and the limited area could not possibly hold the numerous victims of the infectious disease.

Following the cleared path, the question was quickly answered. They understood the reason the gravekeeper had given them that lantern.

A half-buried stone archway was embedded in the ground mixed with earth and stone. A deep, long stone spiral led downward to an unreachable place. Footsteps and firelight vanished around the corner, taking the tightly wrapped human form out of sight.

The reason for assigning only one gravekeeper to such a vast place was found. This was not the graveyard itself, but the entrance.

The underground catacombs used to handle the dead by count during past great plagues had not been abandoned as memories faded; on the contrary, its gates had never closed for decades, serving the function of accommodating those rejected by Heaven.

"Kup, let me confirm once more, you aren't afraid of bones, right?"

"I'm more afraid of them when they are written on paper; they are more terrifying than when they move." Kup patted the hammer hanging at his waist. If a moving skeleton appeared before him now, he felt he should be able to discuss his learning results with it.

"Good. You carry the lantern and walk behind." Before stepping onto the stairs, Kraft looked back at the path they came from one last time, frowning in confusion.

【I feel something is not quite right.】

He stopped on the spot for a while, trying to distinguish the source of the discomfort, but found nothing. That feeling also vanished at some moment.

"Mr. Kraft, is it that kind of thing?"

"No, it doesn't seem like it. Perhaps it's just a precursor to cervical spondylosis. Let's go down."