Mystery: The Silver Key

Chapter 259 "Aquaman"

Chapter 259 "Aquaman" (The bonus chapter content has been split and included in these three chapters)

In Bansi Harbor, on the flower square outside the Deep Blue Church, the howling wind suddenly turned violent and intense.

Immediately afterwards, a tall figure descended from the sky riding the gale, landing in front of the church door at the edge of the square, the swirling wind crackling around him.

Because it was already late at night, apart from the clergy on duty, there were no ordinary believers lingering in the church, so no one witnessed this incredible scene.

In the deep blue church hall, the wind howled, causing the candlelight on the lamp holders on both walls to flicker.

The dim, yellowish light shone through the glass lampshade decorated with wave patterns, casting shadows on the floor and ceiling. As the light flickered, it resembled layers of waves rising on the sea.

Amidst the pounding footsteps, a tall and robust middle-aged man, seemingly riding the wind, strode in from outside the gate.

He looked to be only about forty years old, with a strong and defined face and well-defined muscles that made his loose Storm Priest robes bulge out.

Those eyes were deep blue, like a calm sea under the sun, and his hair, the same color, was twice as thick as a normal person's, like tiny worms or tentacles.

The clergyman who stayed in the church tonight hurried over, his face displaying a complex mix of emotions he could not suppress, including astonishment, shock, fear, and surprise.

He recognized the church clergyman who had suddenly appeared at the Deep Blue Church. He had had the privilege of meeting him once when he had just graduated from seminary and come to the sea.

One of the thirteen cardinals of the Church of Storms, Archbishop of the Sea of ​​Rosed, Senior Deacon of the Punishers, "Sea King" Arne Coltman!

This matter should have been handled by a Deacon of the Church of Storms who was in charge of Level 1 Sealed Artifacts.

However, in his report, Erlan mentioned signs of a resurgence of the bloody rituals on Bansi Island and also subtly hinted at the strange attitude of the bishop there during the incident.

So after praying to the "Lord of Storms," ​​the "Sea King" Yorn Cortman, who had received the revelation, personally traveled from Bayam, the capital of the Roside Islands.

After returning the salute with his right fist to his left chest, Arne Coltman looked at the pastor on duty at the church and asked in a deep voice:

"Where's Miller?"

The priest on duty, suppressing his excitement and slight trembling, replied earnestly:

"Bishop Miller is recovering from his injuries. Yesterday, some extraordinary beings were fighting in the forest deep in the island. Bishop Miller went to investigate and was attacked. He returned severely wounded."

Arne Courtman's eyes narrowed slightly:

"What about the person who takes the punishment? Shouldn't the person who takes the punishment be the one to handle this kind of thing?"

Sensing the low mood emanating from "Aquaman," the priest on duty quickly explained:

"Recently, a group of cult members of unknown origin has appeared on the island. They secretly kidnap tourists who are alone and hold bloody sacrifices in secret. The island's enforcers have been busy searching for them these past few days."

"In addition, Bishop Miller also discovered an intruder on the island with unclear intentions, which was also handed over to the Punishers for investigation."

"Currently, those who are in charge of the punishments cannot spare any more manpower to do other things."

After speaking, the priest on duty cautiously examined the "Sea King" in front of him, only to find that the other man's low mood had become even heavier.

The oppressive feeling emanating from his superior made him tremble uncontrollably, and he dared not utter another word.

"A bloody priest, an infiltrator with unclear intentions, and a severely wounded bishop?"

"Why haven't any of these things been reported?"

"Sea King" Yann Courtman's voice was filled with obvious anger. If he was only suspicious and worried before he came, now he was 100% sure that the Storm Church on Bansi Island had a big problem.

As his emotions fluctuated, a violent gust of wind suddenly swept through the once quiet church hall.

Amidst the howling sound, Yann Courtman walked to the Storm emblem, composed of symbols such as lightning-encrusted winds and waves, bowed his head, clasped his hands together before his chest, and began to pray devoutly:

"King of the Sky, Emperor of the Sea, Lord of Calamity, Great God of Storms."

In a hotel near the dock, Randolph Carter was suddenly awakened from his sleep, gasping for breath.

He just had a nightmare in which he was struck and killed by a sudden bolt of lightning.

He touched the hair on the top of his head that wasn't curly or sticking up, and let out a soft breath:

"It was just a dream."

As he sighed, his hand, which had instinctively reached for the coin, suddenly froze.

"My clones have no rights! They clearly have extra 'Astrologer' extraordinary abilities, but they won't give me any. Now I can't even do a divination..." Just as he finished speaking, Steve, depicted in a painting hanging on the wall, clutching his head and making a screaming gesture, chimed in at the opportune moment:

"Master Wei, perhaps I can perform divination for you."

Randolph glanced at the painting he had hung on the wall, then nodded:

"That's acceptable."

He had barely finished speaking when Steve in the painting suddenly froze, and then his already abstract face fell.

"Master, perhaps we don't need to perform divination anymore."

Randolph looked at it in surprise, a bad feeling flashing through his mind.

"I can see it. Danger is in every gust of wind. They are coming."

"Master, please quickly ask my supreme, great master for help, I feel I may not be able to handle this."

As soon as Steve finished speaking, the windows and doors in the room were flung open by the strong wind, making a loud banging sound.

Then, one after another, figures exuding a dangerous aura filed in, without uttering a word, only launching simple and direct attacks.

boom! boom! boom!

Thin, sharp wind blades mixed with bullets attacked Randolph from all directions, leaving bullet holes and lacerations on his body.

Under the swift attack, Randolph's figure quickly faded, turning into a portrait that was almost completely destroyed.

The strange, extraordinary individual who suddenly rushed into the room and launched the attack showed no change in expression. The leader raised his hand and made a gesture, and then they all simultaneously changed the direction of their attack.

In the corner of the room, Randolph frowned and stepped out of the shadows.

"Is it the wind?"

These people did not respond to him; those with guns fired, while those without guns created wind blades or activated spells.

The next second, everyone froze, their eyes reflecting Steve's distorted and abstract face, magnifying it as they fell into a daze.

"Ouch, ouch..."

"Ouch, ouch, help! I'm just a painting!"

In the corner, Randolph was grinning and holding up the scroll where Steve was as a shield.

All the bullets, wind blades, and lightning bolts were blocked by the scroll. However, although the attack was blocked, the powerful impact still pushed him to the corner of the wall, making him wince in pain.

"Keep them under control a little longer."

After giving Steve a brief instruction, he quickly began to whisper his name:

"From the unknowable sublime, the gateway to dimensions, the embodiment of art and fantasy."

He repeated the question twice without receiving any response, and then began to recite the honorific name that Hermes had previously told him:

"The observer of the spiritual world, the creator of extraordinary language, the founder of human mysticism, the great Hermes."

One second, two seconds...

As he pondered who else he could turn to for help, a familiar voice suddenly echoed in his heart:

"Huh, just ordinary? Are you the true identity separated from the 'Dream Weaver'?"

"Are they trying to speed up the digestion of the potion by having multiple people play the role simultaneously?"

Hearing Hermes' familiar voice, Randolph breathed a slight sigh of relief and then replied:

"Yes, I, as an avatar, will play the role of digesting the potion, while the main body will go to the island to secretly investigate the mission."

"Your grand gesture wasn't exactly discreet."

After a brief, lighthearted remark, Hermes steered the conversation back on track, her tone becoming slightly serious as she spoke:

"I will help you control that 'Sea King' who is coming from the Roside Islands. As for these substitutes, you should be able to get away with the painting you have."

Randolph was surprised: "Aquaman? Yone Courtman? It's him, and he's already got his eyes on me?"

Hermes did not answer his question, but continued speaking to himself:

"After escaping capture, be careful to hide yourself, and it's best to leave Bansi immediately."

"Not long ago, the Lord of Storms cast his gaze here; the traces on the island could not escape the eyes of a god."

"Perhaps in another day, or half a day, King Gad II, who is staying at the Church of Storm's Abyss on Pasu Island, will come in person to cleanse this place of pollution and heresy."

1

I wondered how they could have locked onto me so quickly, especially since the problems with the blood sacrifice and the "City of Calamity" were clearly bigger and more serious.

Composing himself, Randolph nodded slightly: "I understand."

His gaze swept quickly around the room, finally landing on the stack of drawing papers that were upside down on the table.

Without the slightest hesitation, he tossed all the paintings into the air, while simultaneously instructing Steve in his hand:

"A whirlwind, making the paintings swirl around them, should buy them some time."

"no problem."

Steve responded with a comment, then placed his hands on either side of his lips and made a blowing motion.

Ugh~

A chilling, swirling wind suddenly arose, swirling up the drawings that Randolph had flung into the air, making them spin and circle around the punisher in the room.

Randolph didn't even glance at the drawings. He buried his head and rushed toward the door, through the corridor, and toward the stairwell.

In the hotel room, the scapegoats had just recovered from the silent shriek of Steve piercing the spirit, their minds still somewhat dazed, when the next second they saw the scroll being swept past them by the howling, cold wind.

In an instant, they froze in place once again.

Some felt as if struck by lightning, their bodies sinking into an indescribable numbness; others felt as if they were drowning in a cold, deep sea; still others seemed to see a giant dragon, their minds and bodies trembling with fear.

On the first floor of the hotel, Randolph had just used the painting in his hand to make the two substitutes left behind lose their composure.

Then, glittering starlight flew out from the void, quickly outlining a phantom door covered with mysterious patterns.

Then, Cyril emerged from behind the "".

Randolph's eyes lit up. Before he could speak, Steve, depicted in the painting in his hand, began to shout:

"Great, supreme, and unsurpassed master, have you finally come to rescue your loyal servant?"

Cyril ignored it, placed his hand on Randolph's shoulder, and rapidly flipped through the illusory pages in his eyes.

"I came, I saw, I recorded."

After a brief delay, streaks of brilliant starlight lit up, once again outlining the shape of the illusory gate.

Above the street outside the hotel, "Aquaman" Yann Courtman was lifted into the air by the gale, gazing intently down below.

A few seconds later, a dazzling flash of electricity suddenly erupted from those deep blue eyes.

Boom!

As if in response to his feelings, streaks of silvery lightning slid down from the clouds overhead, illuminating the entire port of Bansi.

After glancing around, he murmured in a terrifyingly low voice:

"The Dream Weaver?"