The Guardian understood who Kraus meant by “him.” The Man on the Wall was locked within this very tower; the perception of that skull covered almost the entirety of the Bronze City, let alone the main tower right under its nose.
Ordinary conversation stood no chance of escaping its notice.
The Guardian did not speak. He tilted his head slightly, and an eyeball emerged from his pitch-black aura. It was a full size larger than the others, entirely black without a pupil, radiating an intensely malicious vibe.
The eyeball rolled around in midair. In the next instant, a faint, black gaze swept outward, enveloping the lower half of the main tower along with the two of them, completely isolating them from the outside world.
Once the barrier settled, the atmosphere inside the main tower grew heavier, and Kraus felt his own breathing grow slightly labored.
He wasted no words and got straight to the point.
“I have investigated the matter we discussed earlier. I saw the thing down there with my own eyes.”
Kraus spoke at a measured pace, delivering his words sentence by sentence.
At the very bottom of the Abyss lies a massive piece of flesh, and all the bronze pillars are nailed into it.
The bronze pillars that were supposed to suppress it have actually fused with it. That piece of flesh possesses its own consciousness. After I made a move down there, it noticed immediately and became dead-set on silencing us.
“That trip down nearly cost us our lives; we barely made it back up.”
The Guardian furrowed his brow, his expression grave. He listened quietly without interrupting.
Kraus continued.
“It's not just the bottom. Someone also tampered with the copper wall in the pipe network layer. It was Selena Winter. She can manipulate the eerie inscriptions behind the copper wall, which means she likely holds some kind of key.”
He looked into the Guardian's eyes.
“The Polymath Tower was involved in harvesting the Sea of Knowledge, and they dealt with that skull for a very long time. Selena—or rather, the entire Polymath Tower—is highly likely to have struck a deal with the Man on the Wall. She was merely acting on orders.”
Kraus's tone carried a heavy gravity.
It was hard to tell what the Guardian was thinking. Kraus had already submitted written reports detailing the Bronze City's current plight and the potential situations they might face. The Guardian knew he had to figure out who their opponent was first.
Now that the Man on the Wall had made a move, it had indeed targeted that copper wall. However, it seemed it hadn't succeeded, or perhaps it had stopped halfway.
The Guardian couldn't fathom it, but he remembered that the Man on the Wall had approached him on its own initiative a while ago to sign that contract, likely because something had gone wrong with the copper wall. As for the piece of flesh at the bottom...
The black barrier rippled slightly.
“The thing down there,” the Guardian spoke, his voice raspy, “I'm not sure what it is. However, you don't need to worry about it.”
Coming from a fifth-rank transcendent, these words carried immense weight.
“I will take action when it emerges.” The Guardian paused. “And now, I am capable of taking action again.”
Kraus's eyes lit up.
He didn't know exactly what had transpired, but since the Guardian said he could act, the Bronze City's greatest source of reassurance had returned.
“I understand the situation with the copper wall,” the Guardian's voice dropped even lower. “You don't need to worry about the Man on the Wall. I will handle it.”
Kraus finally breathed a sigh of relief, the tension on his face easing slightly. He looked at the Guardian, fell silent for a moment, and then spoke again.
“Senior, there is something I want to tell you.”
The Guardian's cloudy gaze fell back onto his face.
“I've finally figured out a bit of the system my master left behind long ago,” Kraus said in a very low voice. “This trip down wasn't just to confirm what was at the bottom. I think... I have touched upon the path to the fifth-rank.”
At this point, a hint of regret crept into his tone.
“It's just that time... might not be enough.”
Silence fell over the main tower.
The Guardian's gaze lingered on Kraus's face for a very long time. Finally, the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile.
The Nightwatchers were about to gain another fifth-rank transcendent.
And it wouldn't be a fifth-rank like him, bound to a single city and confined to one corner, but someone who would carry truly decisive weight.
“I can take action now,” the Guardian said, staring at Kraus. “I will do my best to buy you time.”
His voice was incredibly raspy, and his words carried an indescribable ripple.
“If all else fails...”
The old man paused, and the several eyeballs floating in his pitch-black aura turned in unison toward Kraus. Their black pupils reflected an eerie luster, mirroring his face.
“You can leave this place.”
Kraus wanted to say more.
But the Guardian suddenly raised a hand, cutting off the words before they could leave his mouth.
Looking at the aging Guardian before him, Kraus ultimately closed his mouth, choosing not to push further.
The old man's hand hovered for a moment before dropping back down.
“The Man on the Wall came by just now,” the Guardian suddenly spoke, his voice carrying a slight distortion. He didn't look at Kraus, his gaze fixed on the spread of documents before him.
Kraus knit his brows slightly and didn't respond. He didn't understand what the Man on the Wall's visit implied.
The Guardian offered no explanation, nor did he say anything else. He merely tilted his head slightly. The pitch-black eyeball in midair slowly rotated, and the black barrier enveloping them began to shrink inward from the edges.
The suffocating heaviness dissipated, and the air inside the main tower began to circulate once more.
Kraus looked into the Guardian's eyes. Clearly, the old man had made up his mind and determined his course of action.
Before the barrier could completely vanish, a faint, wispy aura clung close.
From the darkness above the main tower, a small, greyish-white skull slowly drifted downward. It was tiny, barely the size of a fist, its misty features blurry and indistinct.
Hovering in midair, it first looked at the Guardian, then turned to Kraus, and paused.
“On you...” it spoke, its voice carrying a long, echoing quality, “...is a familiar aura. Have you descended into that Abyss?”
Kraus did not answer directly. He looked at the small, greyish-white skull and asked in return,
“Did you make Selena tamper with the seal behind the city wall?”
The face within the mist shifted, an indescribable emotion flitting across its blurry features.
“Yes,” it replied, its tone surprisingly candid. “But I called it to a halt.”
Kraus stared at it for a few moments. Whether its words were true or false didn't matter. It wouldn't offer an explanation, and nothing could be verified from these few sentences alone. Kraus simply wanted to confirm a small suspicion of his own.
He didn't press further, having no intention of staying here any longer. Just as Kraus was about to stand up, a flurry of hurried footsteps echoed from outside the main tower.
Two figures entered in single file.
Arthur walked at the front, holding a scroll of parchment, his expression rather grim. Hilde followed close behind, casting a glance at the small, greyish-white skull in midair, her face devoid of expression.
“Kraus, you've arrived at the perfect time.” Skipping any pleasantries, Arthur walked straight up to him and handed over the parchment scroll. “An imperial decree. It just arrived.”
He paused, then added, “The contamination in the Bronze City is extremely severe right now, so this decree was sent through the channel between the Empire and the Polymath Tower.”
Kraus frowned slightly and reached out to take it. He glanced at the Man on the Wall, then strode out of the main tower.
Once the three of them were outside the main tower, Kraus unfurled the parchment.
There were very few words on the paper, written in extremely concise phrasing.
“By decision of the Center, evacuation is forbidden. Defend the Bronze City to the death.”
Arthur waited for him to finish reading before speaking in a leisurely tone.
“The Center's intent is very clear. The Bronze City is the Empire's only fully established harvesting site for the Sea of Knowledge, and the head of the Man on the Wall is still suppressed atop the Polymath Tower,” Arthur continued.
“By relying on the knowledge sent from the Bronze City, we've already found a preliminary method to patch the rift in the Withered Lands on the border. The Center has seen the value of this harvesting plan; they won't let go of it.”
Hilde then pulled out a similar scroll. She unfurled it, and the words on it were almost identical to the one in Arthur's hand: “Defend the Bronze City to the death; evacuation is forbidden.”
The two decrees had arrived almost simultaneously.
Clearly, this was the result of separate decisions made by both the Center and the Polymath Tower headquarters.
Kraus looked at the scroll in Hilde's hand, then at the one in his own. He silently folded his back up, his face betraying no emotion.
Inside the main tower, the small head of the Man on the Wall hovered, its misty features straining to lean toward the decree in Kraus's hand, as if trying to see what was written.
The Guardian cast a glance at it.
It said nothing more, slowly shrinking back upward and sinking into the darkness.
“I'll keep this decree,” Kraus said, tucking it back into his robes.
Arthur nodded, offering no objection.
Just as Kraus was about to head back, two figures suddenly slipped through the gates of the Polymath Tower. They wore black robes and cowls that obscured most of their faces; one look at their attire was enough to identify them as Pathfinders.
Only Pathfinders dressed like that. But why were they here? A bad premonition welled up in Kraus's heart.
Seeing Kraus, one of them immediately stepped forward, retrieving a fist-sized wooden box and a slip of paper from beneath his cloak.
“The Empire has issued an emergency order,” the man spoke at a breakneck pace, without pausing for breath.
“The following message comes directly from the Nightwatchers headquarters. Kraus, listen closely. Rifts have appeared simultaneously in the Withered Lands and several locations in the North. The Empire has already redeployed a massive amount of manpower there. The situation in the Bronze City is still within acceptable limits for now, so they cannot spare much reinforcement.”
He paused for a moment, then added, “However, Vice Director Kraus, the individuals you asked us to contact earlier have been reached. They are currently on their way.”
With that, he handed over the wooden box. “The Empire had us bring this in for you.”
Kraus took the wooden box and flipped open the lid. Inside was a layer of cloth engraved with inscriptions, and resting in the center was a glass vial about the length of a thumb. The liquid inside emitted a very faint golden glow in the night.
A slip of paper was tucked beside the glass vial.
Kraus pulled it out. The handwriting was neat, but there was no signature.
“This is the only assistance we can provide you at present.
“This potion can be consumed by either you or the Guardian.
“You still have one final chance. What you face is not the source of the Forbidden itself; perhaps there is still a sliver of hope for survival. Remember, nothing must happen to the Bronze City—not until you are dead.”
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