The calm inside the sanctuary was broken by hurried footsteps, and the middle-aged priest in a gold-patterned dark blue burqa walked through the long corridor like a gust of wind, and under the silent gaze of the many sages on the frescoes on both sides, he came to the door of the prayer room—but before he could knock, a gentle female voice had already come out of the door: "Come in." ”

The middle-aged priest pushed open the door and saw the figure standing in front of the Storm Goddess Statue - Helena was wearing a simple priest's skirt, with a string of beads made of aquamarine wrapped around her wrists, and it seemed that she was still praying sincerely until a second ago, and she didn't look back when she heard the sound of the door being pushed behind her, but still quietly stared at the statue of the Lady covered with a light veil, and at the same time whispered: "What is the situation outside now?" ”

"Dusk is still going on, and the sun is still in its original position, maintaining its 'normal' brightness and form," the middle-aged priest immediately lowered his head and reported, "The order in the city-state is still good, because the current situation is unknown, most of the citizens have returned home to wait for further instructions, there is no anomaly anywhere in the Ark Ship, and four teams of technical priests are already on standby near the steam boiler." ”

Helena nodded slightly, as if she was quietly thinking about something, and after a moment suddenly asked, "What about the other Arks?" ”

"There was a contact just a few minutes ago, and everything is normal on the Ark, and the Academy Ark says that their observation equipment has received a series of repetitive signals from the direction of the sun, which is different from the previous signals, and is converted into a sound followed by a sharp and short noise......"

Helena said "um" and stopped talking, but continued to stare at the goddess's icon quietly, as if for a moment she had forgotten the middle-aged priest who was still waiting for instructions next to her, until a few minutes later, she whispered to herself: "Long dusk, ......"

Taran El frowned, looking at the information that the apprentice had just sent to him, the long paper tape automatically recorded by the machine was a large number of dazzling curves and seemingly irregular holes for ordinary people, and these data like heavenly books showed the current state of the "Vision 001-Sun" that had been shining and sheltering this world for a long time.

After a long time, the elven scholar finally put down the paper belt in his hand, rubbed his temples tiredly, and did not speak for a long time.

A calm voice came from the side, "Tell me about the situation, Taran. ”

Taran El looked up and saw Ted Lille standing next to the bookshelf, the Keeper of Truth in an academy burqa, beneath which was covered with snuggly soft armor and armed buckles, standing there seemingly calmly, his eyes sharp as a soldier about to enter battle.

“…… The sun is twinkling, and although it is indistinguishable to the naked eye, it is indeed twinkling, and it is not a regular 'signal', but more like a ...... Bad light," Taran El pursed his somewhat dry lips and pushed the data aside, "Plus, the latest track shows that it's not completely still at sea level, but still moving, just...... Very, very slowly, so slow that it is imperceptible to the naked eye. ”

Ted Lille was silent for two or three seconds: "...... How slow? ”

"If the current speed had not changed, it would have fallen below the horizon in about seventy-two hours," said Taran Eyre, reaching for the glass of water to the side, but narrowly knocked it over—he hurriedly grabbed the cup and poured two sips of the already cooled tea, and his face improved a little, "but the worst thing is not the dusk that will last seventy-two hours, but what will happen after dusk, Ted, you know what I mean." ”

“…… It's the night that's longer than dusk," Ted Lear's expression instantly solemnized, and he certainly understood what his friend meant, "If you run at this rate, how long will the next night last?" ”

Taran El didn't answer, he just put down his teacup and stared at the papers in front of him, as if he wanted to see the future of the world from those papers, and to extract the secret of some enemy from the paper, and it was a long time before he smiled wryly and spread his hands to Ted.

“…… I'll arrange for the Knowledge Guards to get ready," Ted Lear looked at his friend in front of him for a moment and nodded slightly, "We have a plan for a continuous mission after an unexpected fall into the darkness for a long time, and the 'Glowing Fall' next to Breeze Harbor will also provide basic shelter in the night, so it won't be too bad." ”

"Yes, the situation in Breezehaven won't be too bad—not necessarily with other city-states," after a moment of silence, Taran El sighed softly, "Unlike in the previous cases where the various city-states directly 'skipped time' when the sun went out, this time we are facing the sun slowing down, and all the city-states are experiencing this world-class vision...... I don't know how they're going to face the long night that follows. ”

"Every city-state has a plan to survive in extreme situations, but how much can be done is another matter...... We can only wish and hope that the four gods will protect them. ”

Ted said in a low voice, then shook his head, picked up the thick book of miracles in his hand, and seemed to open a passage to get out of here, but he suddenly hesitated again, put the book back away, and with a sigh, turned and walked to the door.

Taran watched the back of the Keeper of Truth silently, like a warrior preparing to step onto the battlefield, until the figure disappeared across the gate, and then he withdrew his gaze, his gaze sweeping over the materials that he had just pushed aside.

At the end of one of the pages, a slightly trembling stroke writes a line of notes left by the observer—

“…… Based on current calculations...... ...... until sunset Seventy-two hours ......"

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the golden sunset still permeates the rooftops of the city-state, magnificent and splendid.

Then he heard the illusory sound of the bell.

The bell is hurried and repeated, as if calling everyone who hears it, calling people to come and hear the proclamation before the nightfall—

In the depths of the Purand Cathedral, Archbishop Valentine, who was deliberating with Consul Dante Wayne on how to deal with the solar mutation, suddenly stopped and listened intently to the sudden sound of the bell.

Archon Dante, who was sitting opposite Valentine, immediately raised his head: "Your Excellency the Bishop? What happened? ”

Valentine waved his hand slightly, hesitated for a moment, and then replied, "It's Xun Zhong." ”

"Xun Zhong?" Dante's face suddenly changed slightly, although he was not a clergyman of the church, but because of Vanna's relationship, he knew a lot of things related to the church, so he naturally knew what "Xunzhong" was, "that ......"

Valentine, however, shook his head: "No, let's go on, Mr. Consul. ”

“…… Don't you respond to the call of the 'Swift Bell'? ”

"Don't respond," Valentine said slowly, as if recalling many things for a moment, but finally shook his head, "It's an order. ”

Don't respond to the bell, don't respond to the tomb of the Unknown King, don't respond to the call of the grave keeper—

The bells were still repeated, in the minds of every city-state, every church, every ship, every priest who believed in the four gods, and the rapid and repetitive bells rang again and again.

The priests all stopped what they were doing as the bell rang, but after a brief pause, everyone returned to their busy work—continuing to receive and comfort the faithful who came to ask for help, continuing to maintain the sacristy, maintaining the church, and preparing blessings for the warriors in what could be a very long night.

The bell echoed in a distant place like the wind in the ears and the waves of the sea in the distance, but no priest answered its call......

And in another dimension, far away, in the ancient assembly hall shrouded in darkness and chaos, the last of the ascetics stationed here were silently watching the center of the square.

Huge towering stone pillars surrounded the assembly hall, and a chaotic stream of light flashed in the dark sky, and the quaint pale pyramid mausoleum rose from the center of the square, and in the center of the desolate and deserted assembly hall, the grave keeper, wrapped in bandages and as if he was forever between life and death, stepped out and stood in the empty and empty assembly hall.

However, unlike thousands of years ago, there are no saints standing here today, and no one comes to listen to the news in the mausoleum.

The ascetics stood far from the center of the square, at a safe distance, covered in rune tattoos symbolizing the blessings of the four gods, their eyes and ears closed by spells, and they perceived the mausoleum through a miracle given by the gods, so as not to directly witness the grave keeper and avoid hearing his voice directly.

The grave keeper in front of the mausoleum took a few steps outward, and a huge shadow grew behind him, and unspeakable limbs and twisted things spread outward along his steps like undulating silt, and he came to the ascetics, and reached out and handed over the parchment, on which trembling eyes kept appearing, and he opened his rotten and deformed mouth, calling out to the ascetic vigilantes—

His voice was like a curse of 10,000 blasphemous pollution, and each tremor carried the power to pierce people's hearts and destroy reason.

The ascetic watchmen simply stood silently outside the confines of the mausoleum, silently "watching" the mausoleum's guards like statues.

You can't respond, you can't communicate, but you can't leave this post.

The invisible and strange wriggling shadows slowly calmed down, and after a long confrontation, the grave keeper lowered his head, his cloudy eyes fixed on the parchment in his hand, he was silent for a long time, and finally slowly turned around and walked in the direction of the mausoleum.

A low murmur of overlapping layers came from inside the mausoleum, and the whispers of the grave keeper and the voices coming from the mausoleum gradually overlapped.

He was muttering softly, repeating over and over again—

"Dusk is ......"

(End of chapter)