The salty sea breeze carried the unique noise and chaos of Port Belen, and blew over Moria's slightly pale cheeks. He stood at the entrance of a narrow, damp alley. The depths of the alley were filled with the pungent smell of rotting seaweed and cheap incense. On both sides of the alley were crowded low-rise buildings. The walls were eroded by the sea breeze and were covered with fishing nets and salted fish hanging to dry.
This is the residence of "Fog Bell Alley" in Captain Remington's mouth, the one who is said to be Port Belen's most outstanding fortune teller - "Eye of the Tide" Sivell.
Different from the hustle and bustle of the main road in the port area, Fog Bell Alley seems unusually deserted, even with a hint of deathly silence.
In the shadow of the alley, two figures wearing gray and white robes with simple red crosses embroidered on their chests loomed. Their eyes scanned everyone who tried to enter the alley. When Moria's figure appeared in the alley, the eyes of the two people were like cold hooks, firmly nailed to him, with unabashed scrutiny and rejection.
Eternal Life Blessing Cult...Moria said this name silently in his heart. From the moment we got off the ship, the presence of this mysterious sect was everywhere. The bulletin boards in the port area, the corners of Tavern, and even the whispers of passers-by were all filled with the sect that preached "eternal life". The fanatical eyes of their believers and the ubiquitous cross emblems make this already mixed port city even more eerie.
He had no intention of interfering with other people's freedom of belief, but all aspects of this sect, including its doctrinal propaganda and believers, gave him a strange sense of disharmony. It was definitely not the feeling that a normal, rational and demanding belief could bring to people.
Maybe take some time to investigate the details of this sect? But that shouldn't be now, there are more pressing things at the moment.
He ignored the two unkind glances and walked straight into the alley. The green moss-grown stone pavement under his feet was slippery and sticky. The dark sewage seeping out of the gaps made people wonder whether the sewers here were still functioning normally. Deep in the alley, an inconspicuous wooden door is tightly closed, and a wind chime made of shells and conches hangs on the lintel. It makes a dull crashing sound in the breeze, like a ship's bell lost in the fog - this is probably the origin of the name "Fog Bell".
Moria raised his hand and tapped his knuckles lightly on the old wooden door.
The sound of knocking on the door was very clear in the quiet alley, but it was as if it was lost in the sea. There was no response from the door. He knocked twice more, still the same, and listened attentively. There was dead silence inside the door, as if there was no one there.
This is very unusual. Captain Remington clearly stated that Ms. Sivell lives here all year round and rarely goes out. Moria frowned slightly, his extraordinary intuition made him feel a little strange. He took a half step back and glanced at the door and its surrounding environment.
The door gap is very narrow, almost light-proof, and there are some unidentifiable stains on the door panel, like dried oil paint or some kind of slime. His gaze slowly moved upward, finally resting on the top of the door lintel - the thick hemp rope hanging the wind chime seemed to be wrapped with a few extremely fine, almost transparent threads. If his eyesight was not far superior to ordinary people, and the silk thread occasionally reflected a little subtle light under the dim light coming from the alley, it would be almost impossible to detect it.
An extremely weak but instinctively disgusting cold aura was emanating from those threads. That was not the power of Radiance, nor was it a naturally occurring aura. It was more like some kind of... well-arranged trap with the meaning of prying eyes and curses.
Someone is monitoring this place, and the method is quite covert, with extraordinary traces and a warning that cannot be ignored - anyone who tries to approach this place will be marked and noticed.
Moria looked away calmly, knowing clearly in his heart that Ms. Sivell's situation might be more complicated than he expected.
The dead silence inside the door is more like the silence deliberately imposed by the owner, a kind of dormancy under invisible pressure.
Want to break in? If he was not affected by the curse, he might be able to give it a try, but this was definitely not a wise choice now. This will not only alert the monitors immediately, but may even put Ms. Sivell in a more dangerous situation.
Moria Without any hesitation, as if he was just passing by an empty house, he turned around naturally and walked steadily toward the alley along the slippery stone road he came from. There was no haste or evasion in his movements, just like an ordinary visitor who chose to leave after being rejected.
The two figures in gray and white robes at the entrance of the alley were still standing in the shadows. When Moria's figure reappeared in the light of the alley, their eyes focused on him again, with scrutiny and undisguised rejection. One of them seemed to want to step forward for questioning, but was stopped by a subtle gesture from his companion. The calm temperament of Pastor Radiance in Moria, as well as the "sensible" attitude he showed at this moment, made them choose to stay put.
Moria walked straight across the street without squinting, naturally blending into the more noisy flow of people in the port area.
The salty sea breeze, the shouts of sailors, the collision of cargo handling, the smell of low-quality alcohol and grilled fish mixed together to form the unique background sound of Port Belen. He did not go far, but stopped next to a vendor selling fishing gear and ropes. He pretended to pick out a thick hemp rope, but his eyes quietly locked on the entrance of Fog Bell Alley through the gaps in the crowd.
He is waiting and watching. It's impossible for the only two observers to be the watchers are the two stakes at the entrance of the alley. Since Sivell is so closely "protected", there must be more hidden eyes around her residence.
Time passed slowly in the hustle and bustle of the port, Moria's patience was like a rock. He noticed that the two Cult of Eternal Life gangsters at the alley did not relax their vigilance. Their eyes swept over the pedestrians near the alley from time to time.
About half an hour later, there was finally new movement at the alley. A short, stocky, weathered-faced dockworker wearing a greasy leather apron walked out of Fog Bell Alley in a hurry with his head lowered and carrying a half-empty sack. His movements seemed a little stiff and his eyes were wandering. He didn't dare to look at the Cult of Eternal Life disciple at the entrance of the alley, and almost slipped out against the wall.
Moria's eyes locked on this person instantly. The timing of this worker's entry was very subtle, and the attitude in which he came out... was not so much that he had completed his work, but rather that he was nervous and eager to escape after a certain task.
That's him.
Moria put down the rope in his hand and followed him leisurely. He kept just the right distance, using the constant flow of people at the port as cover, lingering behind the worker like a shadow.
The worker obviously did not realize that he was being followed. After he left the Fog Bell Alley area, his pace accelerated significantly. He turned around and passed through several narrow back alleys filled with barrels and fishing nets. Finally, he arrived at a more dilapidated shantytown on the edge of the port area with sewage flowing across the water. The houses here are shabby and dirty, exuding a strong smell of mold and excrement.
The worker walked to a shack barely made of broken wooden boards and linoleum, looked around warily, then opened the dirty door curtain and got in.
Moria did not approach the shack. He stopped in the shadow of a corner not far away filled with discarded fishing nets. From here, he could observe the entrance of the shack without being easily discovered. He closed his eyes, not to rest, but to raise his perception to the extreme. The sharp spiritual sense belonging to Pastor Radiance was like an invisible tentacle, quietly exploring the simple shack.
There were muffled gasps and low curses in the shed, as well as the muffled sound of heavy objects falling to the ground. The workers were venting some emotions.
"... damn hell place... those lunatics..." the worker's hoarse voice came intermittently, with fear and anger, "Guarding the witch every day... delivering food... and being stared at by that damn thing... what the hell..."
Witch? It should be referring to Sivell. Send food? It seems that although Cult of Eternal Life is under surveillance, it has not completely cut off Sivell's contact with the outside world, at least maintaining basic survival needs. This confirmed Moria's guess that they needed Sivell alive, at least temporarily.