Leading a small group of heavily armed defenders, Agatha left the advance point established by the Church forces, and they passed through several improvised fences of improvised fortifications and firing emplacements, and through a junction illuminated by gas lamps, finally reaching the deepest part of a branch corridor.

The gas lamps embedded in the walls hissed slightly, the unstable air supply of the ancient ductwork made the lights flicker and dim, and in the less bright light, a dark, heavy alloy door could be seen standing silently at the end of the hallway.

The sound of her cane and heel striking the floor echoed hollowly in the hallway, and Agatha came to the door—perhaps because of the passage of time, the seal of the door had actually gone wrong, and a narrow gap could be seen between the two gates, and the lead that had been sealed on the door seemed to have been subjected to an unknown impact, with obvious signs of stretching and tearing in the middle.

On the nameplate on one side of the gate, you can see the steel seal left by the Frost Town Hall.

This is what the Exploration Force found deep underground, the strange gate in the heart of the Second Waterway that she and Archon Winston had mentioned.

The town hall cordoned off the place, but the consul himself was ignorant of the door's existence - information about it had been lost, perhaps dating back to the chaotic era just after the Queen's Age, and the turmoil that had made the door and the secrets behind it disappear from everyone's memory.

Could this be the lair where the Annihilation cultists are hiding? Or is it the mystery that the Queen of Frost, Ray Nora, has left to the world?

Agatha stretched out her hand and lightly touched the rough and heavy alloy door panel, the touch from her fingertips seemed a little dull and numb for some reason, only the coldness was exceptionally clear.

"Do you want to open this door?" A black-clad guard stepped forward and asked, "Permission from the Archon's side has come down......

"Mr. Winston did give permission, but the door that had been sealed in the dark for years could not be opened rashly," Agatha shook her head slightly, "there may be something dangerous sealed behind it—I'll go across there and check it out."

The nearby guards immediately understood the chief's intentions and stepped back.

Agatha looked up at the crack between the two panels, and reached forward.

Nothing happened, she frowned in confusion.

A black-clad guard looked at him curiously, "Is something wrong?"

「…… No, no problem." Agatha shook her head, then focused again.

A gust of wind finally rolled up in the clearing, and her figure turned into a gray mist in the wind, which swirled twice in front of the gate before burrowing into the narrow gap.

"Stay put, wait for the gatekeeper to come back."

The captain of the black-clad guard breathed a sigh of relief when he confirmed that Agatha had passed through the gate, and began to order the team to set up guard positions in the hallway.

On the other side, the gray whirlwind passed through the crack in the gate and entered a dimly lit space, and the wind swirled for a moment before Agatha's figure coalesced.

The gatekeeper turned his head, glanced at the gate where he came, looked down again to confirm the situation on his body, and subconsciously frowned.

Why...... I have been used to the magic technique on weekdays, but I feel a little jerky to use it today? Even the body's own response speed seems a little slower?

After a moment of confusion, Agatha shook her head, temporarily returning her attention to the business at hand.

She looked around, the lantern on her waist emitted a dim glow, dispelling the darkness that lingered here, and there seemed to be a lot of things lurking in the shadows on all sides, but when she looked intently, the darkness was quiet again.

A damp and gloomy passage, you can also see *** mud and metallic stones everywhere, and in the not very bright light of the lantern, you can also see the beams, pillars used to support the passage, and some debris scattered next to the nearby stone piles.

Agatha frowned, she judged that the scene here did not look like it was part of the second waterway - the normal sewer corridor was not this structure, the space behind the gate... … It looks more like

It is a mine road that has been abandoned for a long time.

Mine road?

Agatha looked up at the damp, dark rock roof above, as her gaze seemed to penetrate the thick rock and dirt, all the way up to the cascades of passages, shafts, machinery, and ramps.

Boiling gold mines.

Located in the heart of the city-state, the second waterway has underground branches that crisscross the perimeter of the boiling gold mines, and a considerable part of the sewers were even part of the Queen's mine drainage system, and the closest to the tunnels are the ones that are closest to the tunnels... … It is indeed possible that there is only one door through it.

She walked slowly along the mine, her mind growing more and more confused.

This is just a mine, and it doesn't even seem to have been completely swallowed up and distorted by the darkness, because boiling gold is a holy metal, and the rocks and dirt contain traces of boiling gold that resist erosion like lights and steam—why is such a mine so solemnly blocked by such a gate?

It's locked underground, and even the consuls of this generation don't know it exists - if it's really the first city hall after the end of the Queen's Era to order the lockdown, then what is so special about it that makes them so nervous?

And the mine is clearly abandoned...... Why is this happening? It's obviously not polluted, there are no monsters, no illusions, no ······ Boiling gold.

Agatha paused abruptly, her eyes scanning the tunnels beneath the ramps on either side of the mine, and she finally realized the source of the sense of disobedience she had always felt.

There is no boiling gold here.

In the domed office of the City Hall, once the top floor of the Queen's Palace, Winston, a well-built consul in a blue coat, slowly fiddles with the delicate machinery in his hand.

The mechanical model made of brass made of brass made of his hand made a slight clicking sound, and the gears and connecting rods turned, each meshing and rotating with a precise and cold beauty.

The creation of wisdom, the crystallization of engineering, and the achievement of civilization - the rotating gears are the medals and ribbons of mortal civilization.

Winston placed the mechanical model in front of him, and unconcernedly wiped a piece of oil near the base of the model with the decorative ribbon on the outside of his clothes, and nodded lightly after wiping it clean, his face full of satisfaction and admiration as if he were admiring a work of art.

"Boiling gold is the blood of frost, and mining machinery is the heart that pumps blood......

As if talking to himself, as if to the tiny little machine in front of him, Winston grunted softly as he fiddled with the tiny brass gears with his fingers.

"Fifty Years...... It's like a dream······

He slowly got up and paced to the windowsill.

Outside the wide glass windows, a thick fog permeated the city, and in the fog, all the buildings and roads blurred their outlines and borders, as if they were about to melt into the city-state, and even the towering and tall church across the clearing became a hazy shadow in the fog, and the towers and spires that stood were like giants suffocating and dying in the fog.

Winston watched the fog outside the window with a calm expression, and he could hear the alarm bell coming from across the square, and he could hear the town hall guards and sheriff's troops assembling and dispatching in the square.

Such a large and strange fog will of course arouse the vigilance of the city hall, even if it is not necessary for his own consul to order, the city-state's guard forces will act first according to the predetermined procedure - but maintaining order in the dense fog may only be the easiest part of the next step.

Winston stood in front of the window for a moment, then turned to the distance.

A small round table was placed near the windowsill, and wisps of mist seeped through the cracks in the window and floated around the round table, and in the smoke-like fog he saw two things on the table.

One is a stack of yellowed and brittle papers, and the other is a beautifully crafted revolver.

The documents are written and produced in classical format, and the edges of the fine paper are intricately printed and intricately printed, with the elegance of the Queen's Age.

"Boiling Gold Mine Depletion Warning",

Investigation Report on Abnormal Mine Tunnels", "Analysis of Inspection Results of Exit Samples", ·····

Most of the documents were read and signed between 1840 and 1845.

The approver is Ray Nora.

The revolver was in Archon Winston's personal collection, a classic from twelve years ago, but even today it is still sturdy and reliable, with a well-maintained handle and sparkling bolt that looks like it could last another twelve years – or more.

Winston's gaze swept over the papers, ending on the revolver.

He reached out and picked up the heavy steel, feeling its cold touch, he opened and checked the gun's nest, and then snapped it back into place.

The right hand was slowly raised, and the barrel of the gun, which had been carefully maintained by the owner, was pressed against the temple.

A few seconds later, the gun was lowered.

"That's a good position, so let's use it later." Winston whispered, then checked the bolt's safety and placed the revolver securely in the holster at his waist.

Hurried footsteps came from the hallway.

"Your Excellency, the fog in the city is getting worse and worse......

"I know, I'll come."