Outside the cathedral at the heart of the City of Mist.
Nelly, Maggie, Sacrifice Master Harold of the Church, and three Black-robed people stood there, trembling with fear.
Every one of them was covered in wounds, their clothes in tatters.
All around, every kind of monster had them surrounded.
Harold looked at the encircling monsters, despair on his face. "God, why do You treat Your faithful servant like this!"
Three claw marks scored Nelly's cheek, nearly piercing it through.
He and Maggie uneasily studied their surroundings; the cathedral's doors were shut tight, yet its windows glowed with a faint yellow light.
Amid the uniform gray-blue buildings, it looked utterly out of place.
Maggie stared at the church, voice quavering. "Nelly… are we going to die?"
Two hours earlier they had all been attacked by monsters; they'd thought it the end, but instead of killing them the creatures had merely herded them here, then ringed the church and kept watch.
Tap-tap-tap! At that moment, footsteps echoed from inside the cathedral.
Creak! The great doors swung slowly inward on their own.
A young man appeared, dressed in a close-fitting black suit, hair slicked straight back, his face gloomy.
His gaze swept over them—like a human sizing up monkeys—making them squirm.
When the monsters saw Jiang Yan, they turned and left, no longer hemming the group in.
Under Nelly and the others' watchful eyes…
"*****?" The young man suddenly spoke a sentence none of them understood.
Nelly, Harold, and the rest were dumbstruck, clueless as to what he'd said.
None dared speak up or show the slightest arrogance.
The youth had emerged from the center of this terrifying city, speaking an incomprehensible tongue; the fact that the monsters began to withdraw the instant he appeared proved his extraordinary status.
Jiang Yan studied the bewildered, frightened faces, eyes flickering. He'd merely spoken casually; their lack of response confirmed the language barrier.
He continued, "Is there any way to make them understand me?"
As the words left his mouth, white mist coiled around the cathedral.
The fog expanded for a few dozen metres, then vanished, revealing the Lord of the Mist.
"What a huge monster!" One of the Black-robed people—a middle-aged man—screamed and spun to flee.
"Seeking death." The Lord of the Mist glanced at him; a cold voice, perfectly intelligible, rang out.
Buzz! A ball of white mist materialized around the man, swallowing him.
"Aaaah!!!" A short, sharp scream burst from within the fog.
A moment later, mist and man alike had vanished.
Harold, watching in horror, shouted, "We're from the Eternal Church—please, don't kill me!"
Nelly hastily shielded Maggie behind him, staring at the Lord of the Mist in dread.
Everything they'd seen today battered their nerves; creatures they'd thought existed only in legend now loomed before them, showing the two youths who'd stolen the Church's origin stone in search of power what true terror was.
After disposing of the man to cow the rest, the Lord of the Mist bowed respectfully to Jiang Yan. "Master, when any sentient being dies within the City of Mist, its soul is absorbed. I gain its memories and language, and inside the city I can temporarily grant that language to others. Once they leave, the gift fades and must be renewed."
Jiang Yan hadn't realized the city held so many hidden functions; minor abilities, apparently, not worth listing.
"Grant it." Jiang Yan ordered without turning.
At once a tentacle extended, lightly touching Jiang Yan's shoulder. "Master, please relax your mind."
Jiang Yan did so; a peculiar Mental Power flowed into his mind, filling it with strange linguistic memories.
Across from them, Nelly's group watched youth and monster jabber incomprehensibly; the creature's show of deference made clear who truly held authority.
Then the young man addressed them again: "Who are you? What are your names? Does your world hold only beings like yourselves?"
This time they understood—fluent, native speech from their own world.
Harold's eyes flickered; he sensed a chance to survive and hastily invoked his Sacrifice Master vocation.
Thud! He dropped to his knees before Jiang Yan, piously proclaiming, "Mighty Lord Deity, I am Harold Bate. Our world is ruled by people such as us!"
The two Black-robed men behind him, seeing their Sacrifice Master kneel so readily, brightened and followed suit, swapping terror for loyal adoration in a heartbeat.
Nelly cursed inwardly at the churchmen's swift capitulation—"Damned scum, shameless turncoats"—yet he hastily pulled Maggie down as well.
A being who commanded such a vast, eerie city and its horde of monsters was, if not divine, certainly a terror beyond measure.
Unhurried, Jiang Yan made as though to sit.
The Lord of the Mist willed a white mist to gather beneath him.
It swiftly formed a red-cushioned, gold-trimmed hardwood armchair, its arm-rests capped by snarling golden dragon-heads.
Jiang Yan settled in, hands resting on the dragon heads, crossed one leg over the other, a faint smile playing at his lips.
With the outside world proceeding exactly as he wished, he could take his time learning about these travelers from another realm.
"From now on, you answer what I ask—don't lie; I'm not known for patience." He drew out his phone and began recording.
Harold hastily assented, "Yes, yes, Lord Deity, please ask."
"How advanced is your world…" Jiang Yan began slowly.
Question followed answer in steady rhythm.
Harold's position, though minor, granted him more knowledge than the rest.
Soon Jiang Yan had pieced together a picture of their world.
It resembled Earth several decades earlier: subways and aircraft existed, but only in major cities.
More importantly, supernatural power was present, albeit in peculiar forms.
"So you entered here fighting over raw ore that can awaken such power?" Jiang Yan's gaze shifted between Nelly and Harold.