Chapter 528: Chapter 41 Travel
"Wait a minute, aren’t we supposed to go to the train station?"
As Bologue followed Palmer into the Order Bureau, he realized that something was amiss. Before packing, Bologue had already looked at the map. They were supposed to take a train and go through several transfers to reach the Wind Source Highlands, but Palmer hadn’t driven to the station. Instead, he headed to the Order Bureau.
The two of them arrived at the Courtyard of the Crooked Path. Bologue had arrived at the Order Bureau from here initially. On the high platform of the Central Courtyard, the towering gate stood silently as always.
Palmer said, "Train station? Are you crazy? It would take us several days to get there."
Pulling out a credential from his pocket, Palmer waved it at Bologue, "We have a more efficient way of traveling."
"A Key of the Crooked Path directly to the Wind Source Highlands?"
Bologue immediately guessed why they had come here. Behind the gate was a strange space known as the "Transfer Station," where endless doors stood in the darkness, with one surely leading to the Wind Source Highlands.
Palmer nodded forcefully in agreement, and Bologue quickly threw out another question.
"Since it’s so convenient for you to get home, why are you only going back now?"
"It took me so much effort to get out; I have no desire to return to that hellhole!"
Faced with Palmer’s vehement protest, Bologue recalled Palmer’s rebellious childhood.
When dealing with the "Man-eater," Bologue and Palmer had a long chat at a gas station. Palmer talked about his absurd childhood, and after a disastrous coming-of-age ceremony, Palmer became increasingly resistant to the fate that shackled him, wanting to escape the Wind Source Highlands.
Now Palmer had indeed escaped that place, but in a few hours, he would return again.
Palmer said nothing, but Bologue could feel he was tense all over, like someone who had run away from home for many years, uncertain if he would feel family affection upon return or face a storm of criticism.
"Ah? You’re already here."
A familiar voice echoed, and Bologue turned his head. Aimou emerged from the crowd, carrying a suitcase.
"Why are you here?"
Bologue remembered the itinerary only included himself and Palmer.
"Oh, when I requested leave from Lebius, Aimou was there too. Since everyone was free, I invited her to come along."
Palmer patted his chest and gave Aimou a thumbs-up, "I’m after all the heir of the Clarks, personally showing you around the Wind Source Highlands."
"What about me?"
Another voice rang out from above the platform. The person seemed to have been there for a while. Looking up, an ordinary face came into view.
"Chu... Church?" Palmer’s smile froze.
"Don’t worry, unlike you, I’m not here for a tour," Church lifted a document marked with the insignia of several departments, "This is a mission from the Crow’s Nest. I need to go to the Clarks to confirm some things. Once we reach the Wind Source Highlands, we can go our separate ways."
With that, Church’s eyes, tinged with a cold gleam, fell on Palmer. It seemed he still held a grudge over that night. But in the next second, Church’s impassive face suddenly broke into a smile, which sent a shiver down Palmer’s spine.
"I’m not that petty, Palmer, don’t be nervous. We were partners once, weren’t we?"
Church smiled warmly, but despite the amicable words, they sounded completely different to Palmer’s ears.
Instinctively, Palmer leaned slightly toward Bologue, signaling with his eyes for Bologue to move forward, while Bologue looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"Why are you looking at me? I’ve never been to the Wind Source Highlands."
"Bologue, you..."
Palmer sighed in resignation and waved to the group, "Alright, alright, let’s go together, let’s go."
They ascended the platform and pushed open the heavy gate. Palmer plunged into the darkness, followed by Church, with Bologue and Aimou bringing up the rear.
Aimou wasn’t unused to using the Key of the Crooked Path, but it was her first time at the "Transfer Station." Confronting the solemn and grand gate, she couldn’t help but feel nervous. A faint touch came from behind as Bologue nudged her, indicating he was right behind her.
Darkness enveloped her vision, followed by a physiological wave of nausea. A faint light trickled down from above, gradually becoming brighter and dispelling the surrounding darkness.
Bologue held his breath, overwhelmed by the immense silence swallowing all sound, an unspoken pressure descending from the noiseless world.
Now Bologue was no longer the ordinary person he once was; such bizarre effects couldn’t disturb him.
He coughed deliberately, the sound echoing in the darkness, breaking the silence. Soon, Bologue could distinctly hear several deep breaths around him, as if everyone else, like him, couldn’t help but hold their breath upon entering the Transfer Station.
In the dimness, the outlines of the group gradually became clear. They huddled together, wandering in the deathly quiet dark world.
After stepping through the gate, an endless black wall stood behind them. In the distant darkness, a few doors could be faintly discerned standing upright.
Palmer led the way in front, retrieving the credential while walking. He shook it vigorously in the air, igniting small sparks. Then, the nameless fire consumed the credential entirely, and Palmer let it burn to ashes.
As the credential burned to nothing, Bologue distinctly felt something stirred in the boundless darkness. More perplexingly, he detected a trace of a sinister feeling.
Like the chaotic frenzy of the Devil.
Before Bologue could grasp this sensation, Palmer’s words interrupted his reverie.
"Come on, it’s this door."
Palmer walked to the other end of the black wall, where a large door was embedded in the wall in the dim light. The door was entirely cast of cold metal, adorned with a swirling tornado engraving. It was so vivid, it felt as if the craftsman had actually captured the storm and melded it within.
The Order Bureau was initially composed of six secret societies, acting as the main force against the King’s Secret Sword, often active in Oubos and the Narrow Countries.
To ensure internal stability within the Rhine Alliance, these secret societies became the limbs of the Order Bureau domestically, extending their reach throughout the nations within the Rhine Alliance.
Accurately speaking, these secret societies are considered branches of the Order Bureau in various places. However, most of the time, they remain autonomous and do not need to follow the Bureau’s instructions completely.
Bologue asked softly, "Palmer, do you feel anything?"
"I’m nervous, very nervous, and a bit scared," Palmer said. "The Wind Source Highlands are too far from the Order Bureau, meaning the side effects of this Curved Path Shuttling will be very strong. We might just come out and start throwing up."
Listening to Palmer’s nonsense, Bologue thought he shouldn’t have asked him.
Bologue tried to chase that maddening intent, but no matter how much he tried to perceive it, he still came up empty, as if it was just an illusion of his, not really there.
Is it really so?
Bologue gazed into the endless darkness.
Strange noises emanated from the depths of the darkness. Bologue looked up as a scene he had never witnessed unfolded before him. Long, pale thin hands emerged from the black wall, extending all the way to the group.
Bologue tensed up, clenching his fists, his secret energy ready to be unleashed when Palmer raised a hand to stop him.
"Don’t be nervous, it’s the ’Gatekeeper.’
"Gatekeeper? What the hell is that?"
Bologue remained on guard, trying hard to suppress his strong urge to attack. From the moment those eerie, thin arms appeared, Bologue once again detected that maddening intent, which was linked to the Devil.
"One of the defensive mechanisms of the Order Bureau. When someone makes a long-distance move or attempts to open certain important ’gates,’ the Gatekeeper appears. Even if you have the key, you still need the Gatekeeper’s approval," Church explained at this point.
The thin hands landed in front of the dusty door. The ashes floating in the air were stirred by a faint breeze, resting on those deformed palms, and then slowly clenched.
"Pass..."
A deep voice echoed, and the hands retracted into the darkness.
Palmer took out the Key of the Crooked Path from his pocket, inserted it into the keyhole, and slowly turned it. The faint light traced along the patterns on the door, and with a gentle tremor, the door slowly opened.
"Home at last."
Palmer murmured and stepped into the darkness without hesitation, following closely with the others trailing his footsteps into the darkness as well.
Within the darkness, the sense of space and time completely disappeared. Twisted and bizarre forces rose continually in their hearts as if being bottled up and shaken by a giant.
Aimou was in much better condition. Before entering the darkness, she transformed into a Steel Body, blocking out many senses. Yet, even so, the glimmer in her eyes flickered incessantly.
After a while, the sounds of tides and storm winds came from within the darkness, and faintly, the fresh scent of green grass could be picked up.
The darkness lifted, the door behind them closing slowly. Before they had time to take in their surroundings, a strong wave of nausea had them all bending over, retching.
Bologue and Church managed to maintain some decorum, while Palmer was in a terrible state. Despite his seemingly neat appearance, just hours ago, he’d been partying in a drunken haze with Serey.
With a retching sound, Palmer spewed yellow and white onto the ground, and the smell of alcohol permeated instantly.
Completely gone, all gone.
Palmer originally intended to maintain some semblance of dignity in the eyes of his family, but the moment he arrived home, he utterly lost his cool. Palmer could already imagine the piercing gazes and mocking words.
He wiped his mouth, mustering the courage to lift his head. The anticipated mental blow did not come. Looking around, not to mention welcoming family members, there wasn’t a single living person in sight.
Palmer first felt relief that no one witnessed his sorry state, followed by sadness that despite finally making it back, no one was there to greet him. Was he really so unimportant...?
Wait a minute, maybe he didn’t notify his family because he wanted it to be a surprise.
"Is this the Wind Source Highlands?"
Bologue had already recovered and realized that they were on top of a clock tower, under an ancient giant clock. The Curved Path Gate was located below the clock, surrounded by towering arches, giving a clear view of the world outside the tower.
Endless green plains stretched out, with steep cliffs lining the seashore, and a gloomy, oppressive sky flashing with thunder, alongside a storm at an arm’s reach.
Bologue gazed at the storm raging over the sea, with countless sinister and eerie silhouettes illuminated by the lightning and thunder within the storm.
A sea of ether surged violently, wailing in high-pitched tones. Bologue couldn’t visually discern the situation, but judging by the drastic ethereal fluctuations, they undoubtedly found themselves upon an extraordinary battlefield.
Holding their luggage.
Bologue numbly asked, "Are you sure this is your home?"
"Umm... probably,"
Palmer stared blankly at the towering storm.