Lynch tightened his grip on his cane, but the female officer beside him grabbed his wrist. “It’s not an ambush. It’s more like surveillance.”
“Monitoring us?”
“No, they’re monitoring this location. Otherwise, we would have noticed their eyes on us much sooner.”
The gaze lasted for only a few seconds before slipping out of their perception. Surroundings returned to normal, with energetic workers bustling about everywhere.
It probably wasn't aimed at them.
Glancing at the oblivious hillmen leading the way ahead, the three exchanged glances. None of them raised an alarm, but all grew vigilant in their hearts. Yet, even as they stepped onto the narrow trail into the mountains, nothing unusual happened—as if everything just now had been a mere illusion.
Then they would wait and see. If it was related to them, the party's goal would reveal itself eventually.
Without dwelling on the stares, the three followed the hillmen deeper along the trail. At first, plenty of workers were busy along the roadside, widening the mountain path. But after walking a distance, human traces faded away. Birds and beasts darted through the thick trees, full of vibrant life.
Lynch found the scenery somewhat familiar and quickly realized he had seen it in Maya's photographs. Just as Maya and her companions had done back then, the three crossed through lush forests, traveled deep along rugged mountain paths, cleared two gentle slopes, and found a sheer cliff looming directly ahead.
The bare cliff, bristling with jagged rocks, stretched out to both sides like a natural high wall blocking the path forward.
Bester Mountain was part of the Carlos Mountain Range. At its narrowest, it was five kilometers thick, making it the ideal spot to break through the natural barrier between north and south. It was estimated that tunneling eight kilometers in total would allow the Norin-Rhine Railway to pass through unhindered.
This mountainous region was rich in minerals, containing abundant iron and copper, and even several silver veins. Lynch excitedly pressed for the silver veins' location, only to be glared back into place by the young noble lady. He could only sullenly tag along as they slipped into a massive mine cave at the foot of the mountain.
The mine cave bore clear signs of human effort, stretching far inward. Kerosene lamps burned along the walls, their pea-sized flames casting dim shadows that made the tunnel feel deep and gloomy. Whiffs of the cave's distinct stale air drifted out, accompanied by the faint, muffled sounds of digging.
Ghouls were natural diggers. It seemed no race was better suited for working as miners than theirs.
“Actually, there is one. The subterranean worms deep underground are far better at digging than we are. It’s just that their intelligence is far too low, no different from ordinary animals.”
A ghoul's voice, sounding like a crying infant, echoed from the murky cave. The long-unseen Elder Nikolai emerged to greet them alongside several of his kinsmen.
...
...Though in ghoul form, making Lynch’s mouth twitch. Even on familiar turf, having a bunch of creatures like that emerge from the dark was still quite terrifying.
The old hillman was remarkably warm toward Lynch.
Ever since Lynch had departed Zur-Baha-Sahr and successfully broken his leg, Elder Nikolai had led the hillmen back to Bester Mountain. The two sides hadn't met since. Reunited after two months, Elder Nikolai thanked Lynch repeatedly, claiming that Lynch had fulfilled the tribe's long-standing wish by resolving the great crisis of Mordiggian. Thanks to him, the tribe was no longer bound to these deep mountains, and the young folk could now go out to haul bricks at will—all to Lynch's credit.
Huh? So the joke was on me?
After teasing Diana for so long, I was the culprit all along?
Amidst the giggles of the two ladies, Lynch expressionlessly tried his best to push away the credit. Still, the old ghoul's words heightened the hope in his heart. They truly had been targeting Mordiggian's avatar specifically—meaning his guess might really be correct.
With their prior acquaintance and Miss Diana's connection, he didn't need to be overly roundabout. Instead of asking directly for the location of the Necronomicon, he casually asked why the tribe had migrated here and why they had spent thousands of years guarding this spot to oppose Mordiggian.
This left the old ghoul somewhat bewildered. Lynch understood—it was like asking someone why their direct ancestors back in ancient times climbed down from the trees alongside other apes. Anyone who heard such a question would be baffled and probably want to punch the asker.
However, Elder Nikolai didn't throw hands. He simply pondered for a moment before leading the three deeper into the cave.
The hillmen had a total population of over a thousand, scattered across several hollowed-out mine caves nearby. The one where the elder resided served as a sort of town hall, where only the higher-ups of the tribe lived.
Once inside, Lynch's sense of familiarity grew even stronger. The width and layout of the tunnels and caves here were nearly identical to what Old Sven had dug in the memory fragment. Supposedly, this was the living habit of their tribe, though Elder Nikolai had no idea when the tradition had begun.
Leading the three deep into the interior, Elder Nikolai brought them to the walls of the final few caves, where dense murals were etched. Maya's photos had shown similar patterns, though not nearly as clearly as seeing them in person now.
Even seeing them clearly was of little help, as those abstract murals were entirely beyond the comprehension of normal people. Fortunately, Elder Nikolai was beside them, narrating the pictures and telling them a distant story.
In the story, the tribe's High Priest was bewitched by Mordiggian and lost his sanity completely. He sought to sacrifice a vast number of lives to the King of Ghouls to awaken his avatar and usher in the evil god's descent. That insane act would have caused a massive catastrophe; if successful, half of the Old Continent might have been affected, and no one in the tribe would have been spared.
Fortunately, the High Priest's daughter stepped forward. She had always been deeply beloved by every member of the tribe. It was said she lived among humans year-round, possessed a warm and approachable personality like humans, and was both formidable in strength and exceptionally capable.
Though she couldn't stop the High Priest's mad ritual from commencing, she successfully thwarted her father's plan at the final moment—by purifying all the sacrifices, including herself, right before the offering could be made.
The ritual failed. Mordiggian's avatar fled into the Holy Well of the Holy City and fell into a deep slumber, and their tribe pursued it all the way here.
The story left all three with complex expressions. It seemed Lynch had indeed guessed right—these people were truly the descendants of Dr. Sven's tribe, and the Necronomicon was very likely in their hands.
Yet none of the three felt any joy; instead, a heavy melancholy settled over them. The story was far from beautiful, and its tragic ending brought only a sorrowful sigh.
Lynch sighed and said, “You hated Mordiggian for bewitching your priest, so you pursued him all the way here and remained entangled with him for thousands of years?”
“Not really.” Elder Nikolai looked away from the murals and sighed. “That was the final request of that ancestor.”
“Hm?”
“The ending of the story has been kept in the hearts of every High Priest across generations. In her final moments, that ancestor suddenly regained her lucidity and left behind her last words. She said she had just had one final dream, dreaming of a few remarkable friends who helped her resolve that disaster. Though it was only a dream, it made her deeply happy. She wished for us to pursue Mordiggian’s avatar and ensure he never had the chance to awaken, until... It is said she passed away with a smile. She was truly happy at the end.”
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