Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 201: Chapter 205: Accelerate

Maurice sat on the first floor of the antique shop, waiting anxiously for time to pass.

The storm still raged outside the window, with cold winds howling. The sound of the wind and rain, after being dampened and weakened by the doors and windows, turned into an even more unsettling strange howl. It was like waves striking an isolated island in a storm, coming from all directions over and over. And beyond the nearby display window, the scenery across the street was no longer visible.

Nina and Sherry also came down to the first floor. The two girls ran to the window and watched the storm outside with nervous apprehension, occasionally whispering to each other.

However, that mysterious lady named “Alice” seemed to be completely free of such nervousness. She too was gazing out the window, but her eyes sparkled with curiosity and pleasure, a kind… a kind of pleasure that Maurice could not understand.

“The scenery in the City-State is really interesting,” Alice suddenly spoke up, her abrupt voice carrying an inexplicable magnetism and penetration amid the noise of the wind and rain, “but it seems like all of you are very nervous… Is it that terrifying?”

“Miss Alice, aren’t you afraid?” Nina turned her head curiously toward the sound, having heard the conversation.

“Not at all, it’s interesting,” Alice said with a smile, modestly shaking her head, “and Mr. Duncan will take care of all the problems.”

“Miss Alice, do you know what exactly is happening?” Nina bit her lip and bravely asked. She looked into Alice’s eyes—the eyes of a beautiful lady, who seemed to have a good relationship with her uncle and whom she had never met before, “It seems… you really trust Uncle Duncan?”

“I do trust him,” Alice replied matter-of-factly, “I don’t know what has happened, but Mr. Duncan will solve it in the end.”

Her overtly candid attitude left Nina briefly at a loss for words, not knowing how to continue the conversation. It was then that a particularly loud peal of thunder exploded outside the window, startling everyone and cutting off the conversation in the shop.

Sherry and Nina instinctively covered their ears and drew in their necks, while Maurice, after a brief moment of astonishment, seemed to sense something and suddenly looked up toward the window.

“Fenna has returned…”

The old man murmured to himself, then repeated it again, this time louder: “Fenna has returned!”

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“The Judge?” Sherry turned around in surprise when she heard Maurice shouting, “What about the Judge? What do you mean by coming back or not?”

Maurice, however, did not pay attention to Sherry— he didn’t know how to explain the matter. He simply took a deep breath. Despite it being a chaotic and fragmented memory in his head that suddenly came together out of nowhere, he felt as if he had seen a ray of sunshine on a stormy day, and he calmed down entirely.

The old man reached out and picked up the teacup beside him.

At that moment, he even felt that the tea, which was difficult to swallow, tasted a bit better.

The green fire wall faded, and the dim Underground Sanctuary was restored to its former state, leaving only the last flicker of flame quietly floating next to Duncan, allowing him to see this place hidden in darkness.

Fenna had already left “this side” and now reached the other side of the veil.

She was like a vibrant beacon, outlining the trajectory through the veil for Duncan clearly. Duncan could feel how she left this place—and could confirm that his own ideas were established.

He exhaled softly, looking up toward the position where Fenna had been last.

“Let’s be honest, that dive attack was really terrifying.”

He muttered softly to himself, then turned and walked toward the entrance of the Underground Sanctuary, approaching the firmly closed door.

The doors had closed again, and a body, covered in scars, sat slumped against them. She pressed her body tightly against the doors, a Longsword clutched in her hand, surrounded by sword marks and bloodstains.

Among those crisscrossing sword marks, the Nun had carved the numbers “1885” with her last bit of strength, barely discernible.

The cycle continued as ever, in a looping pattern.

History had solidified here, and Fenna’s intervention had not stopped the cycle of this locked time loop from continuing. Although she was indeed powerful, she had not yet the ability to interfere with the flow of time and space.

Duncan stood quietly beside the Nun for a moment, and then slowly extended his hand. Just then, the Nun’s body moved slightly. She slowly lifted her head, her weak eyes barely opening as she curiously and confusedly observed the unexpected guest before her.

“Oh, as I had deduced earlier, you hadn’t yet died at the moment you were holding back the doors,” Duncan said calmly, facing the Nun’s gaze, “Is there anything you wish to say?”

“I had a brief dream. I dreamt that a sister in battle appeared here; she tried to give me peace within this loop, but she failed,” the Nun spoke softly, “She really came here, didn’t she?”

“She did all she could, but this is not her forte—she has returned to her own battles,” Duncan bent down, placing his hand gently on the blade of the Nun’s Longsword. Small sparks of Spiritual Fire flickered at his fingertips, moving fluidly like water along the edge of the sword, “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“…Are you also a guardian of the City-State?” The nun seemed to no longer have the strength to fully open her eyes. She lowered her eyelids, murmuring softly as if caught between sleep and wakefulness, “I have never seen you…”

“I am not,” Duncan gently shook his head, “but I can be for the moment.”

The nun, however, seemed to no longer hear his voice. Her eyelids closed completely, as if she was slowly stepping into a Dreamscape. In the final moment before the eternal slumber took her, her lips moved slightly, whispering, “…please bear witness…”

“I have witnessed.”

A pale green flame rose into the air, sweeping across Duncan’s line of sight as his words fell, engulfing everything—the nun and her Longsword, as well as the bloodstains around, all turning to ashes within the flames. Under his deliberate control, any Transcendent power involved was completely stripped away in this one conflagration.

Once the flames burned out, they consumed not only a body, but also the closed cycles of time and space. In the dim Underground Sanctuary, only a tiny spark remained, jumping on the ground, meandering through the sword scars, and just before disappearing, it burned away the string of numbers “1885.”

Duncan quietly waited until everything had ended, then he shook his head with a sigh and walked forward to pull open the great door that led to the cathedral ruin’s ground structure.

For the first time since 1885, this door was opened from the inside of the Underground Sanctuary.

Duncan ascended the steps, walking up the long staircase to the ground level of the small cathedral ruins. He passed through the collapsed main hall, through the rows of abandoned pews, and the ash that filled the floor, walking towards the street outside.

The pale green flames reappeared like phantoms, gathering out of the air beside him, spreading and burning along his path. The Spiritual Fire, which had been spreading within the shadows before he arrived, sensed their master’s approach, resonated, and began to blaze fiercely within the small cathedral ruins.

When Duncan stepped out of the door and turned back to look at the small cathedral ruins, the entire structure was engulfed in a majestic Spiritual Fire.

Further in the distance, at every corner of the neighborhood, nearby, and even at the ends of the City-State, more clusters of Spiritual Fire were leaping, spreading, and blazing fiercely, forming torches of various sizes that gradually connected into a blanket.

They were all Spiritual Fires that had suddenly entered an “activated” state upon sensing Duncan’s presence inside the veil.

Unconsciously, they had already spread to such a vast area.

And as these fires burned, Duncan felt something stirring to life within the City-State—the rising and falling roars echoed, the ashes and dust in the streets stirred, and scarlet flames rose everywhere, presenting a formidable sight.

Duncan looked up towards a direction deep within the City-State, “Starting to get nervous now might be a bit too late.”

…

Onboard the Homeloss, Duncan pushed open the door of the captain’s cabin. He strode to the navigation table, rested his hands on it and studied the sea chart, his voice low, “How far are we from the City-State?”

“Oh, great captain, less than two days’ journey remains,” came the eager voice of Goat Head immediately, “Theoretically, we might now encounter merchant ships running business routes in the City-State or the navy’s patrol vessels…”

Duncan listened to Goat Head’s rambling without interrupting, simply mulling over something, then suddenly stood up from the navigation table and pushed open the door of the captain’s cabin to walk out.

Goat Head’s voice came in surprise from behind, “Ah, captain, what are you going to do?”

Duncan had already left the captain’s cabin with long strides. He crossed the aft deck and climbed the staircase, reaching the platform above the captain’s cabin. Offhandedly, he replied in his mind, “I’m going to helm myself.”

“…Yes! Captain!”

Goat Head gave a resounding acknowledgment. The next second, Duncan felt a slight trembling throughout the Homeloss. To his senses, the ship seemed to suddenly come “alive,” every living part of it invigorated.

As he took hold of the wheel, the ship, which was already prepared, immediately entered its optimal state—the semi-transparent sails of the Spiritual Body billowed out further, the tight ropes vibrated in the air, the hull murmured lowly under the slap of the waves, and the sea around the entire vessel seemed drawn by an inexplicable force, with waves coming in layers as if pushing the ship forward!

The Homeloss’s speed abruptly increased.

Feeling the distance between himself and that body in the antique shop shrink, Duncan let out a soft breath.

But suddenly, a strange sensation emerged from the depths of his heart.

It was a subtle sense of being perceived from afar, being seen as a “target.”

As if the very moment he took the helm, something had sensed the existence of this ship and was heading straight for it.

Duncan furrowed his brow, looking in the direction from which the subtle sensation came. Almost at the same time, he heard Goat Head’s voice rise in his mind:

“Captain, the Sea Mist has appeared nearby.”