Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 37 Life and Death

The sounds of the dusk bell and steam whistles, representing the passing of the day, echoed through the moist, dark slopes and vertical wells. It resounded softly through the shady, claustrophobia-inducing sewage pipes. This signal of the night approaching made the cultists hiding in the abandoned resting room even more upset.

One of them caught a critical illness-an illness that no one could diagnose. Now, he was going to die. He was going to die in this dim, underground world.

“He’s still alive right now,” a cultist said hesitantly as he looked at the “comrade” lying on the ground. He could see the frail man’s eyes open slightly. His eyeballs were turning slowly in his eye sockets. This poor guy could still hear what was happening around him, but he didn’t have enough strength to open his eyes anymore.

“He’s only alive for now,” another cultist said with a deep voice. “The bell of dusk has already rung. He cannot die in this room. Our lord’s blessings will help him to receive peace in the darkness.”

The fingers of the man lying on the ground sheet twitched a little. He clearly understood the situation that he was in at that moment, and he didn’t want to just die like this. But death had already caught on to his shadow tightly. Based on the current situation, his dear comrades of the Sun were already considering moving this potential hazard out of the shelter before death actually descended upon him.

The room was shrouded in an extremely depressing silence. It was so quiet that the faint breaths of the dying man became clearly audible. Finally, after a very long period of dead silence, the man in a black robe who cursed the Church of the Wind broke the silence. “Let’s wait for a while, at least… people don’t change when they just die.” “Let’s wait for a while then,” the cultist with a deep voice agreed. He looked toward the man lying on the ground sheet, struggling to breathe. He couldn’t help but start mumbling again. “Why did he suddenly get sick? Are you guys sure that it’s just a regular disease?” “I know him… he owns an antique shop that’s almost closing down in the lower city area. His shop was pretty much full of fakes,” another cultist who hadn’t spoken said. “He was already ill before this and had never been healthy. I think it’s because he stayed in the sewers for too long and got scared by those people just now. It caused his illness to flare

up.”

Listening to his fellow cultist’s explanation, the cultist, with a deep voice, finally felt a little more at ease. Although he wasn’t a “priest” with admirable status, he had been with the Sun for many years. Now, he could at least be considered an “expert” in the occult. He knew the kind of consequences that a failed ritual would have—consequences that are mysterious, far-reaching, and dangerous. Every single follower participating in the ritual might become a carrier of this mysterious danger. This person, who had suddenly become extremely ill and frail, might just be the “carrier.”

If it weren’t for the rule which stipulates that “all followers of the Sun are brothers,” as well as several cultists around him who couldn’t make up their minds, he would have thrown this unfortunate guy into the darkness outside a long time ago.

After a long silence, this cultist suddenly moved. He took out a light gold talisman and stuffed it into the ill man’s shirt at his chest.

“What are you…” another cultist asked curiously.

“I exchanged this holy talisman from the emissary at a heavy price,” he said in his deep voice in a sincere tone. “I hope the lord can bless our brother. Perhaps the brilliance of the Sun can stop the darkness from corrupting him further.” The other two cultists immediately cleared their doubts. They looked in awe at their senior, who had just given away his talisman. They clenched their fists and put them on their foreheads, praying softly and chanting, “All followers of the Sun are brothers…”

The man with a deep voice clenched his fist as well and placed it on his forehead. Then, he chanted softly with the others, “All followers of the Sun are brothers.”

After the sun had lowered completely below the horizon, the moonless, starless night sky once again appeared in front of Duncan. The pale white crack stretched across the sky. Its cold light lit up the boundless sea and the Lost Home.

Duncan stood on the deck at the tail of the ship. He retracted his gaze and sighed softly.

Regardless of how often he looked at it, he could not see stars from the pale, cold gleam. After all, they were non-existent in the first place.

However, compared to the last time he looked at this starless sky, his mood was clearly much better this time.

One reason was that he had already accepted the strange oddities of this world. He had been spontaneously adapting to his life now. Another reason was that the fish he caught today were pretty decent by any standard.

Duncan is a very optimistic person. So any tiny improvement in his life is worth being happy for. Besides, the gift of nature was much more generous than he had imagined.

If he continued at this pace, even if he couldn’t establish a stable connection to civilization on land, he could at least improve his quality of life on the ship.

As his thoughts went astray, he turned to look at the pigeon standing on his shoulder. He said jokingly, “Hey… do you think things would be easier if I did some pirate stuff? Like, find a busy maritime route and rob some ships or whatever…”

The pigeon tilted its head, and its two eyes looked in different directions, neither of which Duncan could follow. “Seriously? Seriously? Seriously…”

“Right, that’s not who I am,” Duncan laughed and said. “Besides, it’s so much easier said than done. At least I need to find a busy route for any pillage to happen.” This ocean was vast yet empty. Duncan didn’t know how far the Lost Home had drifted away from civilization. Ever since he ran into the ship that was in charge of transporting Abnormality 099, he hadn’t spotted any other vessels in his sight. So even if he wanted to rob someone, he didn’t know where to find his victim.

Just then, a voice sounded from beside him and cut off Duncan’s train of thought. “Captain, are we going to rob someone?”

Duncan looked toward where the voice came from. Alice was sitting on a plank high up above, looking at him curiously.

Under the light from the pale gash in the sky, the gothic doll wearing a royal dress sat high above on the ghost ship. Her mercury-like hair gave off a cold gleam in the night. She sat in a very formal and upright manner, and her eyes were filled with curiosity. This scene looked like an old and mysterious painting.

Duncan was rather surprised for a moment. After experiencing several “incidents” that caused great turmoil, he had almost forgotten about this lady doll. Initially, she gave him a noble, elegant, and mysterious impression when she was lying in the wooden crate. Now, when Duncan saw Alice in this quiet state, he felt a little stunned.

But Alice didn’t know what the captain was thinking. So she asked again, out of curiosity, “Captain, are we going to rob somebody?”

That question kind of ruined her image.

Duncan looked at the doll, not sure how to react. “Do you like robbing people?”

“No,” Alice shook her head and answered. “It looks quite boring.”

“But I ‘robbed’ someone and took you to my ship,” Duncan smiled and reminded her.

“… That’s true,” Alice thought about it for a while, then nodded and said. She then asked, “Are we going to rob someone now?”

“No,” Duncan waved his hand and said before walking back to the captain’s room slowly. “I find robbery quite boring. In contrast, strolling around is much more suitable as a form of exercise after a meal.”

Duncan returned to the captain’s room. After briefly assigning the job of manning the wheel, he returned to his bedroom and closed the door.

He had already decided that he was going to head to the Spirit World for the second time tonight.

But unlike last time, this time, he would test his ability using “Ai,” the pigeon.

A ghostly green flame flickered at Duncan’s fingertip. At one particular flicker, the pigeon, which was strolling around on the table, vanished before appearing again on his shoulder.

Duncan felt the faint connection between Ai and him. He gradually calmed down and started recalling the feeling when he activated the brass compass last time. Then, he started trying to use the spirit flame on his hand to communicate with Ai…

The formless green flame turned into a thin line and started coiling around Ai’s wings. The next second, the entire white pigeon was engulfed in flames!

As the flame burned, the pigeon’s feathers turned into a phantom state. The green fire that was leaping rapidly had seemingly reconstructed its flesh and bones. Ai raised its wings in the fire. The brass compass that was hung on its chest suddenly opened up. The mysterious runes on the face of the compass flickered faintly. The pointer in the needle started spinning like crazy before finally pointing into the distance. Everything around him started to disintegrate and dissipate. The familiar darkness once again appeared in Duncan’s eyes. Right after that, the familiar flow of luminescence and then the countless speckles of light.

Duncan followed the feeling in his heart and looked toward the light, looking for the next suitable target to make contact with.

Suddenly, he was reeled in by one of the starlights.

He didn’t know if this was the “instinct of captain Duncan” which goat head often spoke of, but he decided to go with it. Regardless of who was behind that starlight, he was now fated to be with captain Duncan.

In the abandoned sewers on the edge of the City-state of Pland, the cultists who believed in the Sun God had escaped from the church guards. They sat in complete silence. No one spoke a single word.

The world above ground had already sunk into the deep darkness of the night. In the underground world, only a faint, flickering light protected the abandoned room.

Regardless of how cruel, ruthless, and inhumane the cultists were, they felt nervous and fearful as they faced the approaching darkness.

On the tattered groundsheet beside them, the man was breathing his final breaths.

As they listened to his breaths getting shorter and more difficult, several pairs of eyes looked toward the dying man in unison.

They stared unmovingly at the “comrade” on the groundsheet. Everyone knew at that point that this person wouldn’t live through the night.

Under the gaze of these eyes, the man’s chest puffed up one last time. Then, finally, he exhaled the final breath of his life.

“May the Sun continue to illuminate your soul in the darkness,” the cultist beside him said slowly in a deep voice. Then, he waved his hand and said, “Get him…”

The next second, he swallowed whatever he intended to say.

Right in front of his eyes, the “corpse,” whose eyes were shut tight, started breathing again.