The moment Duncan took out the sun talisman, there was a few seconds of silence in the area. His words, "one of us," hung in the air, leading to several pairs of surprised and cautious eyes meeting each other. Then, a tall, thin man who looked like a small leader suddenly lowered his voice and said urgently, "Put it away! Be careful, there might be church spies nearby!"
Is this talisman really that effective? Does it hold such power among the sun worshippers?
Duncan felt a bit amused inside but kept a neutral expression, partially hiding his face. As he put the talisman away, he said calmly, "If there are really church spies around here, a big group of you gathered together is more noticeable than my talisman."
As soon as he finished speaking, a scruffy-looking man across from him instinctively replied, "No way, if we gather, we might just attract the sheriff, and get charged with disturbing the peace..."
"Shut up!" The tall, thin leader immediately silenced his subordinate, then turned his gaze back to Duncan. "This is necessary caution—after all, this city is not safe right now. You come over here, and don’t make any sudden moves."
Duncan walked over confidently while the others examined him closely. After a long look, the tall man quietly asked, "Are you a believer living in this city?"
Duncan thought for a moment and nodded. "Yes."
The original owner of this body did live in the city, and he still does. For these obvious questions, he decided to be honest.
His plan was simple: find a way to blend in with this group of cultists and see if he could gather any information. He would listen and ask as much as he could without revealing himself. If things got dangerous, he could let Ai Yi transform and escape with everyone.
The tall man didn’t notice the dangerous thoughts running through Duncan's mind. Instead, he continued, "From what I know, the Deep Sea Church attacked a..."
"The meeting place in the sewers. There was a sun ceremony happening at the time, and it got out of control. We lost many people—but I managed to escape," Duncan said without any guilt, while keeping an eye on the reactions of the sun worshippers around him. He could feel the tense atmosphere among them easing, except for the tall leader who remained cautious. "Three others escaped with me, but we got separated. Now I can't contact the church at all—until I met you, the sun guided me here."
The tall man made a noncommittal sound and then looked at Duncan's shoulder. "What’s that?"
"My pet," Duncan casually replied. "Can’t you tell? It’s just a regular pigeon."
At that moment, Ai Yi shook her head and let out a loud "coo."
"That pigeon has quite a loud voice..." The tall man seemed to finally relax a bit, perhaps subconsciously thinking that the church folks wouldn’t be running around with a bird. He nodded, "Follow me. It’s not safe to talk out here."
Duncan felt relieved; it seemed like his first step to blending in was successful.
He followed the cultists deeper into the alley.
The alley was deeper than he expected, leading into the forgotten, dark heart of this rundown area. The group of cultists took him through twisting paths, passing old pipes releasing steam, and crossing paths filled with sewage, finally arriving at a low, shabby building. The darker, more broken side of this once prosperous steam city was becoming clearer to Duncan.
He had thought that the place he lived with Nina was the lowest part of the city, but now he realized that the run-down antique shop was actually a "decent place" in the lower district.
Most of the dilapidated houses lining the road looked lifeless, as if they had been abandoned for a while. Yet, in the shadows of a few houses, he felt a numb or gloomy gaze, as if homeless people were hiding in this forgotten area, coldly watching the unwelcome visitors.
But soon, those eerie gazes withdrew—clearly, the group led by the tall man was enough to instill fear in the homeless.
"See that? This is the most prosperous city-state on the endless sea, Pland," the man in black who first caught Duncan's attention mumbled, almost to himself but also as if speaking to Duncan. "It’s the same everywhere—Lensa is like this, Cold Harbor is like this, even the elves' so-called ‘land of peace and justice,’ Breezy Harbor, is like this... They claim that the so-called ‘sun’ shines fairly on the world, bringing light and order, but how much sunlight can you talk about in these gutters?"
Duncan didn’t respond, just looked up. He saw steam and fuel pipes stretching across the buildings above him, huge valves and pressure structures resembling bizarre beasts perched over the low, shabby buildings. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the pipes, casting a sickly light on the sewage between the buildings.
Most of the sewage was condensed steam leaking from nearby pipes, mixed with chemicals from factories, accumulating day by day in the lower district.
Duncan didn’t need to live in this city long to guess how this "city sore" came to be.
He silently glanced at the disgruntled man in black, still keeping a calm expression.
Whether it was the sun's offspring luring them or the harsh life forcing them, the existence of these cultists indeed had its reasons—but so what?
These cultists, who believed they were forced to live in the gutters by the city-state, still came to the lower district to capture helpless poor people for human sacrifices—none of those ragged people in that cave were respectable citizens from the upper district.
As someone who didn’t yet fully understand this world, Duncan felt he didn’t need to comment too much on the city-state, but as a former sacrifice, he thought these cultists were quite despicable.
In silence, he finally arrived at the cultists' hideout.
It was located underground in an abandoned factory.
These cultists, who scurried through the gutters, seemed to always find suitable places to turn into their gathering spots, or perhaps this prosperous steam city had countless gutters suitable for nurturing dark and blasphemous things.
The group crossed the half-collapsed outer wall of the factory and opened an iron door leading to the underground structure. Duncan had planned to observe the situation inside the factory, satisfying his curiosity about the "steam age," but he didn’t get the chance. He was taken straight to a sloping staircase leading underground, arriving at the cultists' "secret base."
This place might have once been a warehouse or a mechanical room, but it was now clearly emptied out. The large space only had remnants of the pipe system on the ceiling and gas lamps on the walls that could no longer be lit. The dark space was dangerous, and even the cultists knew this, so they had lit oil lamps fueled by whale oil throughout the underground. Under the light of many lamps, Duncan saw that there were actually over a dozen cultists gathered here.
After the church had heavily damaged a sacrificial site, there were still so many sun worshippers gathered together? Where did these cultists come from? Were they like mushrooms, popping up in any gutter?
Duncan looked around in surprise at the figures gathered in this spacious basement, while the cultists looked at him, a sudden stranger, with curiosity and caution. The tall, thin man approached again, followed by several strong-looking cultists who surrounded Duncan.
Duncan frowned. "What, do I have to be searched again after coming in? I didn’t know that was a rule."
"If you really are a church spy, searching you wouldn’t help," the tall man said, pulling out a strip of cloth from his pocket and handing it to Duncan. "Relax, this is just a more thorough verification—necessary caution. We’ve lost many brothers over the years for various reasons. Take this and recite what I say."
Duncan glanced at the cloth strip, which looked dirty, almost like it was torn from old clothing, with dark brown stains that resembled dried blood.
Is this another tool for the sun worshippers to verify their kin?
Duncan felt a bit surprised, realizing that these were indeed professionals who were constantly being hunted. While their fighting ability wasn’t clear, their skills in preventing infiltration and identifying traitors were certainly top-notch.
He took the cloth strip and heard the tall man begin to mumble some phrases: "In the name of the sun, may the Lord's light shine upon us..."
Duncan immediately felt this sounded familiar—just recently, a cultist had recited this to him!
That cultist had even given him a talisman.
Duncan discreetly raised a finger, and a small green flame quietly seeped into the seemingly ordinary cloth strip in his hand. Then, maintaining a serious face, he mimicked the tall man and recited the prayer.
The cloth strip, which seemed to be stained with blood, remained still in his hand, showing no reaction.
The tall man’s gaze fell on the strip, and after a long moment, he finally nodded gently, taking the strip back from Duncan's hand with a smile. "Welcome back to the Lord's glory, brother."
(End of Chapter)