初次尝了销魂少妇

A cacophonous eruption of sounds unfolded, transforming into a multitude of unintelligible whispers and roars that echoed within her consciousness. The edges of Agatha’s vision became blurred, populated by trembling shadows within which countless eyes seemed to manifest. This was an unmistakable sign of a spiritual corruption taking root within her. The fatigue that had accumulated from successive battles and the toll it had taken on her spirit had weakened her resilience, rendering her almost defenseless against the oncoming assault.

However, the contaminating influence subsided in less than two seconds, as if the power orchestrating the corruption had purposefully restrained it, reducing the overwhelming energy exuding from this avatar. As a result, Agatha’s senses stabilized, regaining their clarity. In this fleeting moment of lucidity, she was able to discern the true identity of the entity before her.

“You are… the one who descended…” she ventured hesitantly, massaging her aching forehead.

“Yes, it’s me,” replied the avatar. Its form, composed of elemental mud, continued to writhe and shift, seemingly unable to contain such formidable power and struggling to maintain a coherent image, “Just call me Captain, my followers call me that.”

“Captain?” Agatha’s brow furrowed in confusion. Her thought processes were sluggish due to the lingering effects of her spiritual contamination. The moniker seemed odd, but she quickly brushed off her confusion. The world was filled with beings named “Captain,” and perhaps this high-level entity from an unknown origin had whimsically chosen to adopt the title. It was not a detail worth scrutinizing.

“Why are you here?” She inquired, perplexed.

“I’ve been searching for you for quite some time,” replied Duncan, “You suddenly vanished in the city-state, and I assumed that something had happened to you.”

“You were searching for me?” Agatha’s surprise was palpable as she quickly surveyed her surroundings, “What is happening ‘outside’?”

“If you are referring to the ‘Frost’ of the real world, then everything is proceeding as it should. It’s so normal that it’s suspicious,” Duncan shrugged, “Do you have any idea where you are stuck?”

“I… am not sure,” Agatha admitted, leaning against the wall and using her staff for support. She had been granted a brief period of safety and needed to seize this opportunity to regain her strength, “This is another Frost, a Frost entirely under the control of ‘counterfeits’. There’s no sun here, and my connection with the gods is weak. But I’ve sensed the presence of those Annihilators. I’ve been following one of them until I ended up here…”

She momentarily stopped speaking, a slight gasp escaping her lips as she turned to address the being known as “Captain”.

“A mirror,” stated the temporal embodiment, “You are ensnared in a mirrored reflection of Frost.”

“A mirror?” A contemplative one quickly replaced Agatha’s startled expression as she lowered her gaze, “I see… a mirror…”

“They may have duplicated the entirety of Frost, encompassing even the surrounding seas, and this mirror is the origin of all the ‘counterfeits’,” Duncan elaborated, “What’s more concerning, there are indications that this ‘mirror’ and the actual world are steadily converging. This could possibly be the true scheme of the heretics.”

Agatha abruptly lifted her gaze: “You mean…”

“The frequent emergence of ‘counterfeits’ in the city-state, the duplicate Seagull, the disappearance of Dagger Island, even your current predicament, are all consequences of the ‘Mirror Frost’ encroaching upon the real Frost. The primary objective of the heretics was never to invade or annihilate the city, Agatha, they aim to transform the entirety of the city into their version of reality.”

“At some juncture, the continually approaching mirror and the reality are destined to collide…” Agatha drew a slow, deliberate breath, murmuring to herself. She had already contemplated this possibility, “No wonder the heretic mentioned that when the guardians discover the ‘Sanctuary’, it would signal the success of their plan… That moment refers to the point of contact between the mirror and reality!”

“It seems like you’re piecing together the puzzle,” Duncan observed, “You just alluded to finding traces of the heretics here. Are you trailing them?”

“Yes, I’ve picked up on their trail. It leads further into this ‘Second Waterway’,” Agatha lifted her gaze, peering deep into the shadowy corridor. After a brief rest, she regained some of her vigor and was standing upright once more, gradually advancing, “There’s a heretic, he has been attempting to obstruct me, but his persistent presence only reveals more of his path. I feel that he’s very close…”

The avatar manipulated by Duncan trailed behind Agatha.

“I’m sorry,” Agatha suddenly expressed, leading the way.

“Why apologize?”

“Just now… I almost attacked you.” Agatha’s tone held a tinge of embarrassment.

Duncan was momentarily taken aback, then recalled the moment he initially took control of the avatar—Agatha’s metallic staff was just millimeters away from his head.

Upon reflection, however, he realized there was no need for concern.

It was certainly a more favorable greeting than Vanna’s abrupt jump chop.

“I don’t mind, I’m accustomed to it.”

“…Accustomed to it?”

“One of my followers has a tendency to react with a surprise jump chop when she’s startled. Sometimes, I happen to be the target, although she has since ceased doing that.”

Agatha: “…?”

The youthful gatekeeper was left profoundly startled, leading her to wonder about the type of interactions this ostensibly ancient entity had with his followers and the kinds of eccentric, bewildering, and peculiar characters his followers must be.

She pondered for a moment, but her sanity was on the brink of exhaustion, and she was still unable to decipher the enigma.

Duncan, however, was unperturbed by Agatha’s sudden lapse into reflective silence. He simply continued his forward stride, scrutinizing the conditions in the corridor.

This was the Second Waterway of Mirror Frost—strikingly different from its counterpart in the real world.

He paused, gazing pensively at the sewer corridor extending into the murkiness ahead.

“What’s on your mind?” Agatha also halted, spinning around with a look of confusion to question him.

“In the real world, this section is a collapsed area. The path is obstructed,” Duncan uttered, his tone imbued with thoughtful consideration. “It appears that in this Mirror Frost, the Second Waterway is well preserved, even indicating signs of regular use.”

“It could reflect the epoch of the Frost Queen,” Agatha’s voice was hoarse. “I’ve observed that many aspects of this Mirror Frost… are familiar yet divergent, not reminiscent of the contemporary era.”

Duncan listened to Agatha’s deductions in silence for a few moments. After a brief pause, he disrupted the quiet: “It appears that I may not be able to accompany you for the rest of the journey.”

Agatha spun around in surprise.

She watched as the avatar of the “Captain” gradually began to disintegrate. The incessantly flowing and altering black mud seemed unable to contain the power surging – it was now slowly flaking off, leaving intricate patterns of intersecting cracks across its form. Green flames flickered amidst the lines, seemingly unable to be contained, spilling and flowing uncontrollably.

She couldn’t help but cry out: “Your body…”

“Don’t fret, this subpar replication is incapable of stably sustaining my power. Its collapse is an inevitable eventuality,” Duncan merely shook his head, his tone calm. “I’m surprised I was able to persist long enough to convey this much.”

He then raised his hand, silencing Agatha who was about to speak.

“Your current condition is dire and in need of assistance. I will leave some residual embers here. They will amplify the connection between you and me. Take them, and continue your pursuit of the heretics’ hideout. I will continue to aid you.”

Almost instinctively, Agatha stepped forward as if wanting to inquire further. However, before she could articulate her thoughts, the avatar, already teetering on the brink of collapse due to the immense power within, reached its breaking point.

In a sudden eruption of emerald flames, the elemental mud forming the avatar ceased its flow, consumed by the inferno, and fragmented into numerous shards.

Only a petite, finger-sized flame survived in the midst of the scorched black elemental remnants hovering just above the ground.

Agatha found herself transfixed by the flame dancing just off the floor. Its eerie green hue instilled in the gatekeeper a sense of trepidation, prompting an instinctual fear and unease. Yet, after a moment’s pause, she pushed past her apprehension and gingerly stepped forward, bending over slowly.

“I hope this is the right choice.” She murmured under her breath, and in her heart, she invoked the name of Bartok, then extended her hand towards the tiny flame, her action brimming with a newfound courage.

The flame felt like an ethereal petal resting in her hand.

“I can actually pick it up.”

Agatha found herself marveling at the flame she held in her hand. In that moment, she felt a bond forming between her and the flame.

It was a subtle, bizarre, yet palpable connection. After a momentary daze, she snapped back to reality, cradling the gifted flame with utmost care. In her other hand, she grasped her battered staff and proceeded towards the darkest recesses of the Second Waterway.