Deep Sea Embers

Nevertheless, Vanna just couldn’t shirk away the grotesque image from her mind – a great ship howling with the desolate cries of the damned while wanting to crush Pland with its gigantic flaming presence.

At the same time as the ship descended, she also saw a blazing sun rising from the city’s depths – not the rune-bound sun known to the world – but the celestial star body described by those sun heretics hiding in the sewers.

During that purgatory dream, the Church of the Storm remained motionlessly to one side as it watched the catastrophe claim her home. No guidance came for her believers, only meaningless bells and prayers that went unanswered….

Vanna quietly sat up from the bed and came to the window in her pajamas. She stared down at the city structures and saw nothing but calm and serenity for this night. Yet, the unease and irritation only grew as she knew it was not true.

Moments later, the young inquisitor retracted her gaze and came before the dresser. Inside one of the drawers was the curved ritual dagger of her faith representing the Storm Goddess.

Vanna’s gaze lingered on the blade for several more seconds until she couldn’t hold back anymore. First cutting a tiny line on her fingertip, she allowed a droplet of blood to ooze forward before chanting the Storm Goddess’s name to seek guidance.

However, for some reason, she only heard some illusory waves roaring in her ear. The “psychic induction” that she could so easily tap into in the past wasn’t answering her today. It’s as if a huge invisible curtain had suddenly cut her off from the Storm Goddess.

Vanna’s brow furrowed a little over this disconnect.

The disturbance of the connection between believers and gods was rare but not unheard of since the relationship between subspace and the real world was a complex balance. But the storm goddess Gemona… should’ve been the one exception due to the Boundless Sea.

This was one of the reasons why the Storm Church could become the strongest religion in this world.

Can the problem be with me?

Vanna naturally began to doubt her own state, but when she glanced down at her fingertip, the wound she had cut had already healed. This proved the blessing she got from the Storm Goddess remains.

There must be a correlation between my dream and my failure to hear the goddess’s voice.

A ghost ship burning with green flames… ghost ship…

Vanna’s mind quickly recalled and compared the occult knowledge she had mastered, and then her eyes suddenly became serious.

She was no expert in the field of sea navigation and had little contact with the absurd, superstitious myths circulating among superstitious sailors, but even in orthodox ecclesiastical texts, there was a ghost ship that occupied a special place.

It was an ominous ship returning from subspace, and its captain was the terrifying man who caused the thirteen islands of Wetherland to be swallowed up by the border collapse a century ago, Duncan of the Vanished.

Vanna hurriedly got up from the dresser and wanted to confirm her suspicion, but then she remembered the hour was late and the cathedral’s archive wouldn’t open to anyone at night.

And from a perspective of security, she had best not discuss the details of the dream with others only a few hours after its occurrence. After all, it only takes that much to create a connection with the “Captain Duncan” and allow an opening for him to return from subspace.

The most consistent and safe way would be to wait patiently. Once the sun rises and regains its dominant place in the world, any connection established by the dream would wain and dissipate. From that point onward, she would consult the relevant information in the archives or seek the church’s archbishop for advice.

In any case, she must do all that she could to stop that legendary ship from making landfall on Pland. As its protector and citizen, Vanna had every duty to do so.

……

A tall, thin black figure quickly swept through the deserted streets of the downtown area and left only a brief glimpse of his shadowy silhouette behind.

These are unfamiliar buildings and streets, but through the memories, he “devoured” from possessing this body, Duncan knew exactly where to go.

This made him very happy because he finally succeeded. Not only did he make landfall, but the guy also got plenty of information regarding this world’s technology using this complete disguise instead of a rotting corpse.

Frankly speaking though, the health of this body was actually not very good. Thankfully the ability of spirit walk allowed him to ignore the state of the body so he had no complaints.

The distant bark of dogs from the end of the alley eventually caused Duncan to stop running, forcing him to hide between the cracks of the two nearest buildings.

He didn’t know if these were patrol dogs led by the church night watchmen, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Eventually, the noise died again as the steampipes quietly whistled its exhaust into the night.

Duncan stepped out of his hiding place and carefully observed the streets for any hidden dangers. Then through his memory, he kept to the left side knowing the house to the right tended to rouse attention due to its occupants being drunks.

Between a row of low, two- or three-story buildings, he eventually arrived at a shabby old building with a dirty sign hanging on its front. This building had clearly been mishandled because the window was filthy dirty – barely able to peek inside due to the grime – but it was home nevertheless.

“Ron Antique Shop,” Duncan muttered in a low voice, “what a simple and direct shop name…”

When finished, he searched for the key through what little he recalled. After rummaging around the entrance, he eventually found the spare key hidden under the windowsill.

The body’s original owner had done the homework to avoid being caught. Like taking a key that could identify himself as the owner of this antique shop for example.

Quickly pushing the key into the door hole, Duncan easily slid inside with a small crack and closed the door behind himself. Despite his best effort to be incognito, the old wooden slab still made quite the slamming sound in the dead of night. Thankfully he’s inside now, safe and away from prying eyes….