Steam Old Days: The Extraordinary Begins with a Corpse Collector

"Sir, that's the largest church in the city, St. Caleb's Church."

Wesley pointed to the towering building not far away and said.

Lyndon stood next to Wesley, hands in his pockets, his gaze following the direction Wesley was pointing.

St. Michael's Church stands at the northern end of the Wool District, occupying half the width of the street.

It is so magnificent and tall, built with the finest square stones and glass.

Compared to the buildings on either side, St. Caleb's Church is like an eagle standing tall among poultry.

It was a typical Gothic building.

The church’s central spire, like its crown, rises 240 feet from the three-tiered towers, casting a huge shadow on the earth under the sunlight.

The walls of the entire church are decorated with pointed false windows and rows of small spires.

It's like rows of stalagmites growing on the roof of a house.

The tall, arched gate is adorned with a relief of Nicholas Cronus, the god of light and glory, flanked by five other deities.

The Church of the Holy Oath is the state religion of the United Kingdom of the Three Islands.

Therefore, in order to highlight the supreme majesty of Nicholas Cronus, the craftsmen sculpted the other five gods slightly smaller.

There were many people coming in and out of the church, including gentlemen in suits and coats, women wearing old scarves, and middle-aged men with weathered faces...

They all went into the church one after another, hoping to pray for a better life.

Lyndon looked at the crowd coming and going with a serious expression.

Last night, as he was burying the fish-men, a thought popped into Lyndon's mind after Alastor's reminder.

Since the "Book of Fate" always says some vague and ambiguous things, and he happens to not understand them, the only thing he can be sure of is that those words seem to involve some occult knowledge.

Then Lyndon could simply find a knowledgeable expert to decipher it for him.

The Church of the Holy Oath will inevitably be the first to be affected.

They frequently interact with other species and deities, so their knowledge of these things is definitely far superior to that of Lyndon.

Seeking their help might successfully resolve your doubts.

"However, I still need to find a suitable reason first."

Lyndon crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his arm with his fingers from time to time.

"Sir, would you like me to show you inside?"

Wesley noticed Lyndon standing there silently, so he went over and asked him.

"Not for now." Coming to his senses, Lyndon waved his hand in response to Wesley's invitation, "Going to Birch Slope is more important. As for the church... we can come back another time."

Lyndon's purpose in coming to the city was not only to have Wesley show him the location of the church, but more importantly, to rent two carriages to go to Birch Slope.

After all, there are still many horse-drawn carriages available for rent in the city.

"All right."

Seeing that Lyndon had no intention of going in for a visit, Wesley didn't say anything more.

So he took Lyndon to a rental shop.

All sorts of horse-drawn carriages were parked there.

In the end, the two rented two ordinary carriages for one pound and eight shillings.

Lyndon and Wesley returned to the Horseshoe Inn by carriage, picked up Alastor and the others, and then had the driver head towards Mill Valley.

"Alright, everyone sit tight, let's go!"

With a flick of the reins, the horse reared up and started pulling the cart.

Two horse-drawn carriages carrying Linden and his party sped westward along the stone-paved road.

The wheels rolled and the horses' hooves clattered.

As they traveled further and further, they gradually left the bustling city of Wiltling behind.

The scenery outside the car window changed from high-rise buildings and shops to factories and sheds, and then to open farmland.

The wheat in the fields has already been harvested by the farmers, leaving only rows of wheat straw in the ground.

Crows landed on it, using their sharp beaks to search for leftover rice grains or small insects hidden deep in the mud.

The flock of crows on the ground looked just like a pile of squeaking coal dust.

Because Vertlin is a famous textile city in the United Kingdom of the Three Islands, textile factories and dye houses can be seen everywhere on the outskirts of the city.

They were built along the river, and the wastewater produced each time was discharged directly into the river.

The dyes from the dye house even turned the river water blue-purple.

Therefore, the locals call that river the Blue Canal, which means a river that cannot be cleaned.

Therefore, unlike the pungent coal smoke of Chongqing, the scent of Veltlin is that of dye and wool.

As the group drove into the suburbs, the smells in the air gradually faded, replaced by the odors of soil, hay, and animal manure.

The outline of the distant mountains was faintly visible in the thin mist, like a giant beast lying crouching with its back arched.

Wesley pointed to the mountain range and said, "That's part of the Pennines, the most famous mountain range in Wiltling."

After driving for about another hour, the fields along the roadside turned into vast grasslands.

A few stone houses are scattered across the grassland.

The house was surrounded by a stone wall.

Wild hawthorns and blackberries grow right next to the stone wall, stretching their branches firmly into the cracks in the stone.

As the carriage passed by, its wheels rolled over the gravel, making a thumping sound.

The farm women who were hanging clothes to dry turned their heads at the sound and watched the horse-drawn carriage leave.

A shepherd boy was herding a flock of sheep.

The sheep were disobedient and refused to leave the tender grass beneath their feet.

They lowered their heads and nibbled at the grass stems on the ground.

The shepherd boy was both anxious and annoyed. It wasn't until the playful sheepdog came and barked at the flock that the sheep huddled together and headed towards the fence.

The carriage turned north at a fork in the road and onto a narrower gravel road.

After a bumpy ride, everyone in the carriage, including the driver, felt a bit tired.

Suddenly, Gisele stuck her head out of the car window.

She pointed to a house in the distance and exclaimed joyfully, "Look, Daddy! I remember! That's our home!"

"Yes, our home."

Wesley's voice sounded strained.

Although he didn't appear as excited as Giselle, his hands still gripped the wooden edge of the carriage.

Finally, we arrived at Birch Slope.

The Burtons' house was situated on a gentle slope of a hill.

The house is surrounded by birch trees with their silvery-white trunks.

When the wind blows, the leaves rustle in the sunlight.

Two carriages, one after the other, stopped beside a dirt road.

Gisele was the first to jump off the train.

As soon as she regained her footing, she lifted her skirt and ran towards her former home.

The short-heeled boots on my feet made no sound as they stepped on the soft mud, leaving only a string of small footprints.

Giselle walked through the low stone wall of her yard and stopped in front of the familiar blue wooden door.

Using her memory, she retrieved the spare key from under the mat.

Giselle inserted the key into the lock and turned it. Her hands trembled as she grasped the handle of the wooden door.

Pushing open the door, everything familiar came into view.

The furnishings in the room remained unchanged.

Several bags of potatoes were still piled up in the corner.

The geraniums that my mother used to grow used to sit on the windowsill, but now there are only a few empty earthenware pots, which I guess have withered and died.

"Why don't you go in?"

Suddenly, a broad, kind hand landed on Giselle's shoulder.

Wesley looked at her tenderly, just like years ago when he led her to the market.

The group entered the Burton family's home.

Tom then went to tell the coachmen to wait a while, as they would need the carriage again soon.

"Good sir, that's no problem, but please give the horse some hay to feed it."

After Tom told Alastor about the coachman's request, Wesley said he should have some left in his warehouse.

"Then... Alastor," Lyndon called out upon hearing this.

"What's wrong?"

"You stay here and help the coachman feed the horses. Mr. Wesley and I will go find Mr. Garrett."

"Huh? Aren't you going to rest for a while?"

Giselle has wet a rag and is wiping the table.

Hearing that Lyndon wouldn't even sit down, she blushed and pointed to the chair.

"No, I'll have plenty of time to rest after I'm done with this."

Lyndon smiled and patted Giselle's hair.

"Okay, I'll take you there. Garrett lives right behind my house; just walk down a small path."

With that, Wesley wiped his hands clean and led Lyndon out the back door.

The road leading to Garrett's house was very narrow, and looked as if it had been worn down by people.

After walking for a while, a small wooden house came into view.

The walls of the wooden house were covered with withered vines, and the chimney on the roof was built crookedly.

"Garret! It's me, Wesley!"

Wesley went up and knocked on the door.

But no one inside responded.

Wesley then shouted again.

"Garret, are you there? I'm back! And I've found my daughter!"

Despite Wesley raising his voice, no one answered.

"Not home?"

Wesley frowned and tried to push the wooden door.

That's when they discovered the door was locked.

"Damn it, is he not home?"

Wesley walked to the window to see what was going on inside.

But the curtains were drawn so well that Wesley couldn't see anything.

"Is nobody here?"

Lyndon stood behind Wesley, tilting his head as he asked.

"I think so, Mr. Lyndon."

Wesley shook his head and said regretfully.

"We're not so lucky; perhaps Garrett has gone to Dark Oak Forest."

Lyndon stepped forward and tried to push the door, but it wouldn't budge. He then went to the window, but like Wesley, he couldn't see anything.

"How about..." Wesley hesitated for a moment, "I'll take you to the other side of the woods first? We can wait until Garrett returns and we know the specifics of the woods before we decide. Maybe we'll get lucky and run into Garrett when he comes back."

After listening to Wesley's suggestion, Lyndon thought for a moment and nodded in agreement.

"You're right. Let's go then, leaving Alastor and the others to guard the house."

“Okay,” Wesley said. “Dark Oaks isn’t far from here; you’ll see it as soon as you get to Mill Bridge.”

Having made up their minds, Lyndon and Wesley chose to return to the house the way they came.

After explaining the situation to Alastor and the others, the two decided to take a car to Millbridge.

"Then please be careful!"

Giselle stood at the door and called out in the direction the carriage had gone.

The carriage continued north along the dirt road.

After walking for about twenty minutes, the terrain suddenly opened up ahead.

Sitting in the carriage, Lyndon could vaguely hear the sound of rushing water.

Wesley told Lyndon that the Mill Bridge was just ahead, and that the water flowing under it was very fast, coming down from the Pennine Mountains.

Soon an arched bridge appeared in front of the road.

However, even though the stone bridge was right in front of them, the coachman slowed down and stopped the carriage by the roadside.

"Driver, why have you stopped?"

Lyndon noticed that the carriage had stopped.

He asked the driver, puzzled.

"Sir, it's not that I don't want to leave, but there are people on the bridge."

The coachman's eyes were fixed on the stone bridge ahead.

"Isn't it normal for there to be people on the bridge? Just slow down and be careful to avoid them."

Lyndon said dismissively.

"No, sir. You should consider the situation." The driver's voice trembled slightly.

Hearing the coachman say this, Lyndon and Wesley exchanged a glance, and then got off the carriage together.

The two then saw that the road ahead was divided in two by a rushing river.

The clear water splashed white against the shore.

An arched bridge made entirely of stone spans the river, and at the bridgehead stands a huge old willow tree.

Just as the coachman said, a group of people were standing under the willow tree at the bridgehead, but they were not the ordinary passersby that Lyndon thought they were.

They were all dressed in dark green hunting attire, with pheasant feathers tucked into their hats.

Each person had a dagger and a short stick at their waist, and a double-barreled shotgun in their hand.

Several slender hunting dogs lay on the ground, their tongues lolling out.

The hound's ears drooped, and its alert eyes kept a close eye on Lyndon and Wesley as they approached.

It seems that as soon as their owner gives the order, they will pounce and bite wildly.

"Stay there and don't move! Otherwise, something bad will happen, gentlemen."

Seeing Lyndon and Wesley getting closer, one of them spat out the blade of grass he was holding, raised his shotgun, and pointed it at the two men.

"Mr. Crown! Don't shoot! It's me! Wesley!"

When Wesley saw the men on the bridge raise their guns, he immediately raised his hands.

He also recognized the person opposite him.

"It's Wesley! You've found your daughter?"

"Yes! God bless!"

When Kron recognized him as an acquaintance, he lowered his gun.

"who is he?"

Seeing how familiar the two were, Lyndon asked in a low voice.

Wesley told Lyndon, "His name is Crown, and he's the captain of the Viscount's security detail. He usually leads patrols in the woods to prevent anyone from sneaking in."

Wesley glanced at Crown: "But I don't know why they went to Mill Bridge either."

Before they could finish speaking, Crown had already arrived in front of the two men with his men.

Lyndon also got a good look at Crown's face.

He was a strong, muscular man, slightly hunched over, with a sunken nose, as if he had been punched.

However, Crown's fingers were long, thin, and pale.

"Wesley, I thought you weren't coming back."

Crown and Wesley shook hands.

"How could I not come back? This is my hometown. How could I dare not come back? This is my hometown. I will definitely come back."

"Yes! But you also said that if you couldn't find your daughter, you would never return to Baihuapo. Please forgive me, but that's often the case; it's very difficult for people to find what they've lost."

Kron shrugged and said, "But you're really lucky to have found your daughter."

"That's because I met a respectable gentleman, Mr. Lyndon."

Wesley introduced Lyndon to the group and explained the purpose of their visit.

They wanted to enter the Dark Oak Forest.

To Lyndon and Wesley's surprise, Crown flatly refused their request.

"Excuse me, Wesley." Crown raised his gun again and pointed it at the two men. "His Excellency has ordered that no one is to set foot in Dark Oak Forest now, not even one step."

He pointed to the bridge beneath his feet: "From here, if you take just one more step forward, it will be considered illegal intrusion."

"What? How can that be? Quite a few people make their living off that forest!"

Wesley's expression froze.

Lyndon's face also darkened.

"Excuse me, this is the Viscount's order, and we have no choice but to obey. Please step back now!"

Kron held his gun to their chests, forcing them to back away.

Even the hounds behind Crown barked at the two of them, letting out low growls.

Wesley wanted to argue a few more points, but Lyndon grabbed his sleeve.

Lyndon whispered a reminder: "Don't be impulsive, let's leave first and then discuss this further."

Wesley was indignant: "How can the forest be sealed off? What about Garrett? Will he starve to death?"

It was just a casual complaint, but Kron took it to heart.

"Garret has also joined the Viscount's security force. He's currently receiving a salary from the Viscount, and he's patrolling another road today. Would you like me to call him over?"