Chapter 392: Emerging

"." 

"Father Ethan, we've detected a spreading fog inside."

The matter inside had ended, but the atmosphere outside had turned very serious.

Sensitive individuals might detect signs of an impending conflict.

On the main road at the forefront, a crowd was gathering.

A mix of military and clergy, numbering at least a few hundred, with several pieces of heavy weaponry scattered along the road.

Tanks, armored vehicles, and artillery equipped with large-caliber grenade launchers and machine guns, among others.

In front of these weapons stood a group of commanders, with a middle-aged man in priestly robes at the center, flanked by his military and clerical peers.

But the obvious leaders of the group were now intently focusing ahead, their brows furrowed.

"Fog?" Father Ethan looked towards the monk in front of him, frowning.

As an assistant to Bishop Josefini and potentially a bishop candidate, he naturally held a central position here.

It could be said that aside from Bishop York, everything outside was now his responsibility.

"Yes." Monk Corantin replied calmly.

"This is from the report brought by colleagues ahead; the spread is fast, it could reach here in a matter of minutes."

Father Ethan's brow furrowed as he looked ahead.

At the end of his line of sight, indeed, some faint mist was wafting through the dense woods on either side.

He remembered Bishop York's previous orders.

"Colonel Malik, Father Carmes, have all the residents inside been evacuated?" Father Ethan addressed another clergyman and a military officer.

Compared to the silent nod from Colonel Malik, who exuded a competent aura, Father Carmes responded.

"When the residents of Lost Town arrived, there should be no one left inside."

Father Ethan nodded, understanding from the residents of Lost Town that it was Bishop York who had ordered their evacuation.

Importantly, according to these residents, Bishop York chose to proceed alone into Silent Hill.

Thinking this, Father Ethan took a deep breath and looked ahead.

"Monk Corantin, have them return, quickly evacuate beyond the barrier circle,

Ensure there are no oversights elsewhere."

Monk Corantin nodded affirmatively and quickly left the spot.

For a moment, only silence remained.

The heavy breathing alone signified how tense the atmosphere was.

"The fog is spreading." Father Ethan's attention remained fixed on the horizon.

Shortly after Monk Corantin had left, what had been a thin mist like gauzy veils seemed to thicken.

The fog, gradually turning denser, spread rapidly, soon enveloping the nearby forests and hills, rendering the trees and landscapes at the edge of visibility blurred as if shrouded by a mysterious veil.

As time passed, the dense fog thickened, slowly advancing towards them, a hundred meters high, obscuring everything like a massive rolling wheel.

The scene was spectacular.

"Retreat."

Seeing this, Father Ethan immediately led everyone back behind the heavy weapons, watching the rapidly spreading fog with a grim face.

The fog seemed harmless, just ordinary white mist, yet it cast a shadow over one's heart, a pressing weight that seemed to envelop both inside and out.

"Something isn't right," Father Ethan said gravely.

Those beside him nodded in agreement.

The people present were no ordinary individuals; normally, such oppressive fog wouldn't weigh so heavily on them.

Now, for some reason, each felt a burdensome pressure, as if monstrous creatures lurked within the fog.

All soldiers tightened their grip on their firearms and weapons, some even unconsciously held their breath and licked their dry lips, trying to ease the pressure.

The heavy breathing grew even heavier.

Suddenly, something fell from the sky, landing on the faces and bodies of soldiers and some clergy.

They instinctively reached out to touch and catch whatever was falling from above.

It was like white snowflakes made of ash-gray snow.

"Father Ethan, look." Father Carmes caught an ash-gray snowflake falling in front of him, crushed it, and said gravely.

His face grew solemn.

"This is ash."

Seeing the crushed ash in Father Carmes's hand, Father Ethan's brows remained knotted, already sensing a change in the surrounding environment and a strange force spreading with the fog.

"There is a power subtly transforming our environment." Father Ethan spoke solemnly.

"It's likely just the natural emanation of some entity's presence."

With that said, everyone looking at the dense fog and the falling ash-gray snowflakes took a deep breath, their hearts sinking.

"That is, if this entity wishes, it could directly alter the environment."

Father Ethan sighed, glancing at the slowly lighting barrier array ahead, its white light connecting each node, forming a giant shield visible only to the clergy.

"Prepare yourselves; this battle will be tough," Father Ethan said, turning to the silent Colonel Malik.

"Colonel Malik, if there's any change, it's up to your battalion to evacuate all the residents."

Given the soldier's

 duty, Colonel Malik nodded.

"I understand."

After speaking, he led the military personnel present away from the site.

Seeing this, Father Ethan looked up at the sky filled with ash-gray snowflakes, feeling the unfamiliar force enveloping the surroundings, and took a deep breath.

"From here on, we clergy will be the first line of defense."

"Understood!" All the priests present nodded, their resolve silent.

"Father Ethan, how do you think Bishop York is doing right now?" Father Carmes asked, eyeing the thick fog a few kilometers away beginning to envelop them.

Father Ethan shook his head, gazing at the apocalyptic scene unfolding before him:

"I don't know, there's been no news so far, only that Bishop York has gone to his destination."

Father Carmes was silent for a while before speaking calmly: "If even Bishop York can't handle this, I fear we might also"

Hearing this, Father Ethan pursed his lips, pulling out his phone to dial a number.

The call connected to Bishop Josefini, who was always waiting for news in the Charleston diocese of West Virginia, sitting on the balcony of a side building, staring into the void, lost in thought.

Upon hearing some noise, he blinked.

"Bishop Josefini, it's Father Ethan calling," said a clergyman behind him, holding a phone.

Bishop Josefini nodded and took the offered phone.

"Hello."

"Your Excellency, there has been a slight change in events, approximately a level VII incident or higher," Father Ethan reported, detailing the current situation, the thickening fog, and the ash-gray snowflakes falling from the sky.

Before Bishop Josefini could respond, Father Ethan exhaled softly, adding:

"Since Bishop York entered, there has been no news."

After these words, Father Ethan's heart sank, fearing the worst.

Unexpectedly, laughter came through the phone from Bishop Josefini.

Father Ethan was stunned, not sure what to think, when Bishop Josefini's calm voice came through.

"Everyone dies, but York is different from us."

Father Ethan tightened his lips, glancing at the ever-encroaching fog now thick enough to blot out the sun, with nothing but white mist visible, feeling as if some terrifying entity dwelled deep within the fog.

"Bishop!"

"You've not interacted with York; you don't understand," Bishop Josefini continued, his voice deep.

"York has always prioritized his own life; he values it more than anyone and wouldn't venture alone into uncertainty."

Father Ethan remained silent.

Bishop Josefini looked towards the distance, as if he could see something, his lips curling into a slight smile.

"He's our future Pope; you at least need to have some faith in the Pope you'll serve."

With that, Bishop Josefini heard a heavy breath through the phone, chuckling a bit wistfully.

"I'm old, it's time for me to retire; it's up to you young people to hold the fort from now on."

"Bishop, please don't talk like that," Father Ethan said through clenched teeth.

Bishop Josefini laughed and scolded through the phone: "I'm old enough, not allowing me to retire wouldn't be right, I don't want to keep cleaning up after you youngsters."

Father Ethan wanted to say something, but Bishop Josefini gently preempted him.

"Of course, I can still cover for you for a few more years, so you need to grow quickly; as it stands, you're too weak."

Father Ethan relaxed slightly, Bishop Josefini's eyes filled with regret.

The world wasn't as peaceful as it seemed; during the turbulent years of his youth as a novice priest, the church had lost many more people than now, including bishops who died battling demons.

In a major incident, losing a dozen bishops was common.

And he had fought countless battles in that era, injuries were routine, and somehow he had made it to this day.

Now, it had been ages since he'd heard of a bishop dying.

These young people from peaceful times, to those who had experienced tumultuous years, seemed too green, like a fledgling learning to fly.

Thinking this, he couldn't help but think of York.

"Now that I think about it, that guy really is something special. Even as a novice priest, he'd seek out trouble on his own, leaving traces in England, Japan, France, among others, even secretly clashing with some old acquaintance from hell."

Musing, Bishop Josefini felt a bit amused, wondering if it was old age making him nostalgic.

He remembered a day when Pope Gregory had laughed heartily; after asking, he remembered he had laughed too.

He still recalled what the Pope had said.

"Do you know, Josefini, that kid actually asked me how to get to hell. I asked why he wanted to go to hell, do you know what he said

?

With a gritted expression, he said he needed to avenge his followers because a demon had killed one after a failed exorcism and escaped. Ha! Really audacious, but I like it, so I told him."

Bishop Josefini chuckled, feeling truly old.

"Heh, you guys keep waiting for York's news; he wouldn't let you face an unbeatable enemy.

Do you know why? Because he went alone, only asking you to hold your ground here, preventing any stray minor demons he might not have noticed from getting out."

"But—" Father Ethan looked at the approaching dense fog and ash-gray snowflakes, hesitating as the present scene weighed on him.

"Trust your future Pope," Bishop Josefini said calmly.

"Father Ethan, this is only tentatively classified as a level VII event; wait until it reaches level XII before you worry."

Father Ethan took a deep breath, nodding in agreement, wanting to say more when suddenly his phone crackled,

his heart tightening as this indicated a loss of signal.

Father Ethan instinctively looked up as the barrier's light flared brightly, its holy power luminous.

Beyond the brightly lit barrier lay a sky-high dense fog, an ash-gray expanse, obscuring the view inside.

"The fog must be formed by some power," Father Ethan observed, unable to focus on his phone, squeezing it tightly.

"If it were normal fog, it would have penetrated the barrier by now."

"Prepare for the enemy."

With no further words, like a military command, Father Ethan put his phone back in his bag and then took out his personal Bible, which he always carried, staring at the dense fog blocked by the canopy-like barrier.

His fellow clergy all took out their Bibles.

Nearby, the monks silently drew their knightly swords, stepping forward to the front, ready to charge at a moment's notice.

Behind them, the soldiers, prompted by their officers, raised their firearms, aiming at the dense fog ahead.

The atmosphere turned deadly serious.

Anything emerging from the fog would face their full barrage.

The previously heavy breathing had vanished; everyone instinctively held their breath.

Just then, a sudden noise abruptly sounded.

Everyone tensed, ready to strike.

Only Father Ethan furrowed his brows, recalling his bishop's words.

The next second, a voice from within the fog made him suddenly widen his eyes, raising his hand to shout loudly.

"Everyone, hold your fire!"

Because he heard a phrase.

"Alesha, your power has leaked again." This small, somewhat exasperated voice seemed inconspicuous.

"Such a commotion."

"Sorry, Uncle York, I haven't used it in a long time; I'm a bit rusty." Following that, a weaker, even quieter voice responded.

"Did I cause trouble again?"

___________________

(Support with power stones, comments or reviews)

If you guys enjoy this story, In support me on Patreon and get access to +200 advance Chapters

Read Ahead

Patreon.com/INNIT