ASHES OF DEEP SEA

Chapter 304: Chapter 308: Agou’s Intense Reaction

In the room with the blue door, Duncan and his companions remained silent, and so did the twisted mass of creature tissue stuck to the door.

After what seemed like forever, Duncan finally broke the silence. “Is there anything else you need our help with?”

“I don’t seem to have any regrets,” came the voice of Kristo, “and can’t think of anything to ask for—good people, what can you do for a soul who has been dead for many years?”

“What about your family?” Fenna couldn’t help but ask.

“My family…” Kristo hesitated, as if some memories had just surfaced in his twisted “shell,” “Oh, right, my family… my wife and daughter, they live in Frost, at the end of Fireplace Street…”

Kristo murmured softly, his voice growing fainter as if he were about to fall asleep, but suddenly he woke with a start, his voice clearer, “Ah, if there’s a chance, please visit them for me. It wouldn’t hurt to send them a message, although they probably already know what happened to the Obsidian.”

“Is there a special message you want us to convey?” asked Fenna.

This time, Kristo thought for a long time. Just when Fenna thought he might fall asleep again, the writhing mass of tissue suddenly emitted a voice again: “I can’t think of one. I can’t even remember their faces clearly… Just wish them good morning for me, and tell them I left with no regrets and no pain. That’s all.”

“We will pass on the message if they still live there.” Duncan nodded slightly, his gaze landing on Kristo’s subtly writhing shell.

It wasn’t an illusion. The vitality of this mass of tissue was gradually weakening. Kristo’s consciousness also seemed to be slowly departing from this shell as a light ash-white began to spread along the edges of the mass.

All these changes might be related to the heart of the Obsidian ceasing to beat deep within.

It was time to leave.

“We should go,” Duncan said calmly.

“It’s about time…” Kristo’s voice became even more gentle and muffled but was still audible, “then I wish you smooth sailing ahead—leave me here, a captain should be with his ship.”

“… In fact, before we leave, we’ll sink this ship,” Duncan hesitated for a few seconds but decided to tell the truth about what was going to happen next, “Captain Kristo, you must guess that the Obsidian has been contaminated, and we can’t allow it to keep drifting in the Endless Sea—it’s a threat to ordinary sailors.”

Kristo was silent for a moment before speaking softly, “Thank you, kindhearted one.”

Duncan looked at the captain for a few seconds, nodded silently, and prepared to leave.

But just as he was about to pass through the door, Kristo’s voice suddenly reached his ears again: “Among you, is there a devotee of the Grim Reaper Bartok?”

“…I’m sorry, no,” Fenna shook her head, “Why do you ask?”

“Ah, I only hoped a devotee could say a funeral prayer for me—having been through all this, my soul is tainted, and I doubt I can pass through Bartok’s gate of life and death. Perhaps a funeral prayer could help my soul dissipate a bit faster… But it’s okay if there isn’t, life seldom goes as desired, right?”

Fenna and Morris instinctively exchanged glances, the latter hesitating briefly before speaking out: “We are clerics of the Storm Goddess and the God of Wisdom, and we will pray for you after we leave—although that may not be of much use to a devotee of the Grim Reaper.”

“I’m not familiar with the affairs of Grim Reaper Bartok, but if what you seek is a deathbed wish of a devotee…” Duncan said, stepping forward to grasp the hand stuck to the door panel, “I hope your wish will be granted.”

“… Thank you, kind people.”

No more sounds came from the writhing mass of flesh; its movements gradually slowed, and death’s ashen hue had spread everywhere—while he wasn’t entirely gone, the last spark of life was no longer enough for him to continue talking.

Duncan nodded silently at the Captain of the Obsidian and stepped through the door.

Duncan and his companions left the Captain’s cabin of the Obsidian, passed through the disorderly corridor, through the triple nested doors, and returned to the deck of the Ghost Ship.

The sun was setting.

Accompanied by the sound of flapping wings, a spectral bird enveloped in flames flew from the direction of the Homeloss, circling above Duncan and the others.

Green flames eerily rose from the Obsidian, transforming into a meteor that returned to the nearby Homeloss.

Moments later, Homeloss slowly adjusted its position, lifting the gunport covers on one side of the hull and extending the dark muzzles from the firing holes.

Cannons roared, and fiery meteors rained down. Under the increasingly tilted and indifferent bloody sunset, the Obsidian was almost instantly engulfed in the raging ethereal green flames, and amidst a series of spectacular burns and explosions, it swiftly took on water, disintegrated, and sank.

This Ghost Ship, fully corroded by transcendent powers, sank into the deep sea in a very short time, leaving only a few whirlpools of varying sizes on the surface.

At the edge of the deck of Homeloss, Duncan faced the sunset, watching the direction of the Obsidian sinking, bidding farewell to the Ghost Ship until the last moment.

Only when it had completely disappeared, did he withdraw his gaze and glanced at Fenna and Morris standing behind him.

“Sailing on the Endless Sea is one of the most dangerous jobs in the world, and those deep-sea captains occupy the most perilous position of all,” Morris remarked with a sigh. “More than half of the deep-sea captains meet unfortunate ends—even those who retire alive and settle on land struggle to integrate into ordinary life due to various reasons. Most suffer from curses and mental anomalies, haunted by auditory and visual hallucinations and even disordered memories. My daughter Heidi… deals with these matters often.”

Duncan did not respond to the old scholar’s lamentations.

After all, from the perspective of the world, the Homeloss and his role as “Captain Duncan”… were also examples among many of those who met unfortunate ends.

It was just that his particular “unfortunate end” was rather fierce.

“How are Sherry and the Abyssal Hound?” Duncan suddenly asked.

“I just went to see them,” Alice immediately raised her hand, “The Abyssal Hound said it’s alright now and is currently studying Nina’s elementary school textbooks. Sherry said the Abyssal Hound needs someone to look after it, so she is dozing off next to it.”

“…The knowledge-seeking Abyssal Hound and its illiterate owner,” Duncan’s mouth twitched, and he began walking toward the direction of the cabin, “I’ll go check on them.”

He went straight to the cabin shared by Sherry and the Abyssal Hound, knocked on the door but found it was slightly ajar. Pushing the door open, he saw the dog sitting in a chair at the desk, avidly reading a children’s vocabulary book with its front paws.

And behind the dog on the bed, the illiterate Sherry was sleeping soundly.

Duncan’s mouth twitched again. Although he had heard Alice mention this earlier, actually seeing this incongruous scene still deeply unnerved him. The Abyssal Hound also heard the noise at the door and looked up, “Oh, Captain you… Ah, f***!”

Before it could finish its greeting, the Abyssal Hound suddenly emitted a booming yell, and in an instant, it sprang from the chair, almost hitting the ceiling!

Then came a clatter as a black chain connecting the Abyssal Hound and Sherry instantly tensed. Sherry, deeply asleep on the bed, was abruptly pulled into the air by the Abyssal Hound, and after a loud “thud,” she crashed solidly against the nearby wall.

“You crazy, Abyssal Hound!” Sherry, rattled and disoriented, jumped up and lunged at the Abyssal Hound, “Why on earth did you suddenly…”

It was then she noticed Duncan standing at the doorway and the Abyssal Hound’s unsettled demeanor.

“Are you okay, Abyssal Hound?”

Sherry and Duncan spoke almost simultaneously.

“I’m fine, I’m fine… no, not fine,” the Abyssal Hound seemed not yet to have recovered, still shivering, its gaze wandering as if trying to look at Duncan but instinctively averting, finally stuttering out a sentence, “Captain, is there something on you… in your left pocket…”

“Something?” Duncan paused, then realization dawned, and he fished in his left pocket, pulling out a small metal box previously used for storing tobacco.

Opening the metal box, a thumb-sized piece of dark, odd-looking “flesh” appeared in front of everyone.

“I, I, I… f***!” the Abyssal Hound became even more nervous upon seeing the object, scurrying into a corner, “Where, where, where did this come from?!”

“The deepest part of the Obsidian,” Duncan frowned, “What’s with your reaction? What did you sense from this…”

“The Abyssal Saint! The scent of the Abyssal Saint!” the entire dog shook as if on vibrate mode, “This is the flesh of the Abyssal Saint!”

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