Ashes Of Deep Sea Chapter 242

Chapter 242: Chapter 246: Warm Days

Phenomenon 001, having risen from the Blood Sea after the disappearance of the Ancient Crete Kingdom, replaced the old sun and illuminated the world of the Deep Sea Era.

For ten thousand years, this massive light source operated as if eternal, bringing not only light and warmth but also a stable order to daytime–if not for it, the City-State civilization as we know it would never have existed, and the entire world would likely be engulfed in a terrifying perpetual night, with all life that once thrived under the protection of the Ancient Crete Kingdom perhaps having silently perished in some ancient era.

No one thought that Phenomenon 001 would one day have problems, just like no one considered whether the Endless Sea might dry up one day.

However, it now seems that this “eternal” sun wasn't truly eternal.

First, the sunrise was delayed by fifteen minutes, and then there was that near-imperceptible crack on the Rune Circle… all these unsettling pieces of information pointed to one fact: the lifespan of Phenomenon 001 was actually finite!

Duncan stood by the store window, silently watching the bright Sky Light illuminate the street, his mind churning like a storm.

He knew he wasn't the only one aware of the sun's anomaly–there were many intelligent people in the world. Ordinary folks might not notice the changes overhead, but authorities in various City-States and the Church were surely keeping an eye on this world's biggest phenomenon. By now, someone must have noticed the changes in the sun… What would they think? How would they respond? Did anyone know what was happening?

He also thought of those mad Sun Cultists, those heretics who worshiped the ancient True Sun… prattling all day long about how Phenomenon 001, the evil “False Sun,” would one day fall… Did they know the sun was actually having issues?

Or, was the change in Phenomenon 001 somehow really connected to those Sun Cultists and the Scions of the Sun behind them?

To be fair, Duncan didn't really respect those Sun Cultists; whether they were ordinary heretics or the slightly more formidable Scions of the Sun, in his eyes, they were all the same–easily flammable material. But the great fire in the Plunder City-State reminded him that those ordinary heretics might be harmless, their “Wriggling Day-Wheel” behind them had a very high status. Coupled with a bunch of elusive Doomsday Preachers stirring the waters and oddities like historical contamination and reality overlay, who knew if those Sun Cultists really had the ability to affect the operation of Phenomenon 001…

After ruminating for quite some time, Duncan decided he would try to contact Fenna when he got the chance–she was a high-ranking member of the Church and should be well-informed about the Church's movements. He could discuss the matter of the sun with her.

Incidentally, it would also show his friendly attitude and his concern for the security of the City-State.

Of course, he'd remember to knock next time he visited.

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As Duncan contemplated this, he diverted a fraction of his attention to check on the situation at the cathedral, and suddenly he paused.

He sensed that Terian had left the cathedral and was… moving towards the southern part of the Upper City District.

Duncan frowned slightly after confirming Terian's direction.

He thought of another matter he had planned.

After a bit of thought, he lifted his head and looked towards the counter.

Alice was lying next to Sherry, gripping a pencil and writing something very, very earnestly on a sheet of white paper.

Bright sunshine streamed through the antique shop's windows, crossing over the rustic displays on the shelves to pour into the store, casting a warm, gentle glow on the golden-haired doll's shoulder, as if plating Alice in a halo of warmth. The sunlight also touched the counter and the tip of the doll's pencil, bringing an indescribable softness and mysterious ambiance to the entire scene.

If this were a painting, it should have a name–'Beautiful Doll Writing Quietly in the Warm Afternoon Sun'.

Even Duncan was somewhat stunned by this perfectly captured scene of light and shadow. He then walked over to take a look, only to see Alice diligently copying some letter–who knows where she had started making mistakes, but by now the entire paper was filled with interconnected little circles…

Noticing the captain approaching, Alice immediately stopped and happily lifted her notebook for Duncan to see, “Look at what I've written, Mr. Duncan~”

Duncan: “…”

After holding back for a long time, he managed to keep his face straight and reluctantly nodded, “There's… improvement.”

Although he couldn't tell at all what she was writing.

Alice was very pleased, apparently just needing that bit of praise. She then curiously looked into Duncan's eyes, “Do you have any instructions for me?”

Duncan paused, “How did you know I have something for you to do?”

“You always look like this when you're giving an order,” Alice gestured on her face, trying to mimic Duncan's expression, but no one could understand her demonstration, “What do you want me to do?”

“Go to a place, with Ai Yi,” Duncan adjusted his face, looking at Alice's careless smile, thinking about his task, his mood became much lighter, “Lead someone here.”

“Lead… to here?” Alice looked puzzled, “What do you mean by 'lead'? Do we need to knock them out and tie them up?”

“Where did you learn that?!” Duncan glared at the puppet, “Come with me, I'll show you how to do it…”

Compared to a hundred years ago, this city had indeed changed a lot.

Electric wiring, new models of gas street lamps, wider and smoother streets, taller buildings, and countless factories and pipelines–the scholars and engineers brought forces that drove civilization forward, and this force made the City-State change at a much faster pace, a change that even made the weathered Tyrion marvel spontaneously.

But in this City-State, some things still roughly resembled those in his memories.

After getting off the transportation, Tyrion thanked and bid farewell to the church personnel who had accompanied him, walking with a few sailors from the Sea Mist on the streets at the edge of the Plunder Upper City District, observing the somewhat familiar yet strange roads and shops, his face inevitably showing a hint of reminiscence.

“Captain,” one sailor curiously looked at his superior, “What are we looking for here?”

“A shop,” Tyrion casually said, his gaze continuously searching among the buildings with a heavy Central City-State architectural style, “A doll shop, with a sign bearing some Elven style.”

“Dolls?” the sailor was a bit surprised, “You're into that?”

Tyrion silently glanced at his subordinate, “I have my reasons.”

Another sailor approached, “Captain, why don't you just silence him… You can silence all of us if you're not comfortable, and tidy us up after you're done shopping…”

“…I'm starting to regret bringing you guys.”

The sailors just chuckled, but while joking, their eyes continuously swept across the nearby buildings, looking for the shop that met the description of their captain.

Tyrion shook his head, slightly helplessly watching his subordinates.

Outside of combat, this was how he interacted with his subordinates–people would hardly imagine the legendary “Iron Marshal” being such a peaceable man among his own, but Tyrion knew why.

These men had followed him through life and death for half a century–no relationship in this mortal world could surpass this half-century of loyalty and trust.

Just then, a sailor's voice suddenly came from beside him, interrupting Tyrion's thoughts.

“Captain, could it be that one? The place across the street, that Rose Doll House… The name sure has character.”

Tyrion looked up and immediately spotted the familiar name among the row of street-front old stores: Rose Doll House.

The sign was changed, the door was changed, even the facade decorations were changed, but the name of the shop remained the same–the sentimental Elves, even living in a rapidly changing human City-State, rarely changed their shop names easily.

Tyrion suddenly felt a bit dazed, a yellowed memory surfacing in his mind, he seemed to see that long, long ago afternoon when his father went to the port for errands, and he, dragging his young sister, sneaked out of their home. The siblings wandered the bustling grand City-State until they ran into that shop in confusion…

And there, resolutely spent the small change stolen from their father's money box–that day, his sister gained a whole day's happiness, and he… couldn't quite remember if he got a beating.

Regardless, that was one of the few simple and warm segments in Tyrion's long, cold memories of a century.

“That's it,” the great pirate murmured, “'Doll House' is an Elven naming style, referring to a doll shop.”

Saying so, he walked toward the store that seemed to occupy a special corner in his memory.

(Book recommendation time, this time it's “Dragon Clan: Starting at Cassel's Corner Wall” from Mirror Sea Dream, a Dragon Clan fanfiction, stepping into a different Dragon Clan, creating dungeons and apocalypses, with battleships and mechanical maidens and students blowing up gods and fate!)

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