Chapter 304

"These past few days weren't entirely idle—we built a footpath here. It's still not perfect, but at least it's much easier to walk than before." Father Green led Kraft through several checkpoints to the transformed site.

Torches spaced every five or six steps illuminated the round-the-clock efforts. Wooden stakes driven into rock crevices served as supports for a simple plank path built along the steep slope.

The zigzag route greatly improved accessibility, allowing normal passage up and down.

But the surprises weren't over: a three-tiered framework was taking shape on the stony beach below, and nearby logs carried assembled pieces of a disassembled boat.

"There's also a temporary pier," Father Green said, clearly impressed by the Church's unexpected support. "We've built docking points at multiple elevations to guard against rising water levels."

The area had become a makeshift construction site, everyone busy with their tasks: clearing rubble, driving stakes, nailing pre-cut planks onto the framework.

All the essentials of a pier were rapidly taking shape under ample manpower and resources, as preparation for exploration.

At mid-slope, some workers were using locally sourced stones to build relatively stable platforms, attempting to mount mechanical devices with rotating parts atop them.

A light source far brighter than ordinary torches flickered, and when it swept toward them, it was almost blinding.

"That's a lighthouse," Father Green said, pleased by the professor's surprise. "Someone with sailing experience suggested it—otherwise, you'd lose your way in just a few dozen meters. We're currently calibrating the lenses."

"Getting this thing wasn't easy. I heard that a slab of white glass this size used to cost as much as an equal weight of silver. Luckily, prices have dropped recently."

"Huh?!"

Undeniably, this level of preparation gave Kraft a sudden surge of confidence.

After so many anomalous incidents, this was the most serious one—and yet also the best-resourced. Though the Church had been painfully slow to act, once they finally moved, even a fraction of their strength was commendable.

"How did you build all this safely?" he asked. "Surely the lake creatures aren't deaf—they must have heard all the hammering and clanging."

"Didn't you encounter anything?"

"We did—but we didn't catch it, or even see what it was." Father Green pointed to an inconspicuous corner of the pier, where planks had been ripped away, along with wooden stakes deeply driven into the shore.

Two armed monks were reinforcing the base of a device as wide as Kraft's arm span—something that might be called a "ballista." Its surface still bore damp moisture, as if recently pulled from the water.

The last time he'd seen something similar was on the walls of Vestermin City, usually kept in key towers for maintenance.

It didn't fire conventional arrows, but a fearsome, barbed short spear—essentially a harpoon—with a rope trailing behind it.

"That thing nearly took a few more of us. When it was hit, it dragged the ballista and its base underwater. If the rope hadn't snapped, we might never have recovered it."

"You drove it off?"

"Too bad we didn't pull it up—if we had, we'd have had oil waiting." A regretful voice spoke—it was Brother Vatin. He noticed the two men chatting amid the busy workers and approached.

"Shooting at a glowing object thirty steps underwater isn't hard. The real challenge is what you do next—how you handle it in the water."

"And over there," he lowered his voice, glancing toward the other side of the pier.

On that side, several Church personnel dressed similarly to them carried various weapons, urging the shipwrights assembling the boats.

Clearly, Green didn't get along with them. If one looked closely, the pier's workers subtly split into two groups—no overt hostility, but an invisible boundary between them.

"Watch your tongue," Green stopped Vatin. "I trust Father Theodore's character. Before the Enemy of the Heavenly Father, let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and slander be removed from among us—be kindhearted, as the Lord forgave us all."

The latter half of his words rose in volume—clearly not meant for Vatin alone.

Several figures in the other group turned to look. Through the thick fog, their expressions were unreadable; they said nothing, only continued their preparations.

Kraft's half-relaxed heart sank again. He silently questioned Green with his eyes.

What's going on?

Who was insane enough to pair two people who clearly dislike each other on such a critical mission?

Green gave a slight shake of his head. "For efficiency and safety, we've divided into two teams, exploring in two directions simultaneously."

"So we're not even traveling together," Kraft whispered, barely moving his lips.

"Theodore is capable and level-headed. He won't let personal feelings cloud his judgment. I believe the Inquisitor chose him after careful consideration."

"Of course, still slightly inferior to Green," Vatin muttered under his breath, immediately earning a glare.

"..."

Kraft trusted Green. If he were on the other side, even if they'd always been at odds—competing for promotions, reporting academic misconduct—Green would wait until the mission ended before picking a good day to settle the score.

But this "Theodore"? He knew nothing about him. He could only hope the Church had more people like Green.

Fortunately, the two groups weren't heading the same way—they'd likely never meet, and perhaps neither would return.

The boats were nearly ready. Workers rolled the reinforced vessels down log tracks toward the water.

Someone shouted for the makeshift lighthouse to turn, directing its beam toward the nearby surface, casting a large, ragged-edged patch of light that swept across the water.

The ballista crew watched closely, adjusting their aim as the light passed, searching for any suspicious ripples.

The accompanying monks made one final check of their gear, securing supplies with slipknots at accessible spots on the boats, and attaching empty barrels with grappling ropes as emergency flotation devices—though no one knew if they'd actually help.

They were ready to depart. Compared to Father Theodore's group, who were collectively praying, Green's team was quieter. Veterans with prior experience gripped their weapons, repeatedly checking their fuel supplies.

"You're really going?" Green confirmed one last time. "I heard it's just out of curiosity?"

At this point, he didn't even know what drove the man anymore.

"Hmm… too many reasons. To save the people in the city? To honor the dead? Maybe to find answers to things that happened before?" Kraft stared at the lake. The still, massive silhouettes reflected in his pupils—strangely fitting.

"You might not believe this, but this event's reach extends far beyond here—to Vestermin, to the tributaries of the Tem River, to the northern seaport. I followed it here, though not entirely for its sake."

"Even setting aside everything else—don't you want to know what it is?"

"What kind of power created this? Twisting the souls of the living, reviving the corpses of the dead, reshaping the Father's creations as if turning pottery back into clay."

"What is its essence? An undiscovered law, like thunder or celestial motion? The ultimate answer at the end of medicine? Or something we're destined never to comprehend or control?"

"Don't you want to know?" He turned, his gaze burning.

Father Green felt a deep unease—he'd felt it before. This man's skin wasn't soft—it was like fine, brittle ceramic, a shell already cracking, on the verge of splitting open, just like the armor he'd seen in the sewers.

Something within peered out through the fissures, insatiable, widening the cracks, desperate to burst free.

Something colder than the lake water flowed through his body, as if countless icy fingers had reached out and seized him.

Then it vanished.

Kraft stood before him, his expression full of concern, eyes filled with worry over this ill-fated journey.

"Are you alright? Should we delay departure?"

"No, just distracted." The priest forced a smile for everyone's benefit and stepped onto the wooden boat.