Ashes Of Deep Sea Chapter 376

Chapter 376: Chapter 380: Island in the Mist Chapter 376: Chapter 380: Island in the Mist The island drew ever nearer, and the dense fog cloaking it, as well as the silhouettes within that fog, became increasingly clearer–Lawrence stood on the prow deck of the White Oak, gripping the railing before him so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

Anyone would be nervous, even a seasoned captain who had spent the better part of his life adrift on the Endless Sea–what lay on that island? What was lurking in the shadows of that dense fog? Why did the island seem to appear around the White Oak as if it had a consciousness of its own? And most importantly… just what was this place, shrouded in eerie phenomena?

Lawrence took a deep breath, the cold air piercing his lungs, forcibly calming his unsettled mind. He tried not to think of other abnormalities, like Martha appearing before him, and the bizarre fact that others besides himself could also see Martha–he knew he must cut off such thoughts, for all of it clearly had to do with the deteriorating state of his own mind. If he continued down this path, Martha might truly become more than just an illusion.

He had no more potions left, and even if he did, the concoctions had evidently lost their effect.

The steam core operated smoothly, and the White Oak gradually approached the small island with its jagged coastline. This beautiful white vessel cruised over the waves, leaving a long wake behind her. Within that rippling, spreading trail, a faint glimmer of ghostly green flashed by.

However, no one paid any attention to the situation at the stern–everyone on board was focused entirely on that mysterious small island.

The perimeter of the island was steep and rugged with strange rocks, leaving no place suitable for docking. The experienced helmsman did not rashly bring the ship directly in, but instead, maneuvered the White Oak to start sailing around the island.

About a third of the way into the circumnavigation, a sailor in the crow's nest suddenly spotted something.

“There's a harbor!” the sailor shouted from the lookout.

Moments later, a small dock came into Lawrence's view. The facilities deeper within the dock were obscured by the mist, unclear, but the parts extending into the sea were visible–the structure was intact and showed no signs of damage.

A complete dock facility meant they could berth the White Oak in its entirety, rather than using small boats to disembark. This undoubtedly increased the safety of exploring the island–not only was resupplying convenient and retreat straightforward, but the several small-caliber escort cannons on the White Oak could also provide cover for the coastal exploration operation.

Lawrence returned to the bridge and, under his command, the White Oak began cautiously approaching the deserted dock. Due to the lack of shore-based stevedores to aid the docking, the process was exceedingly slow, but it was completed without incident.

Lawrence looked across at the dock, seeing the island shrouded in even denser fog than he had observed before, as if by illusion. Could it be that the fog enveloping the island had thickened considerably?

“I don't see anyone,” the first mate said, coming up to Lawrence's side, scanning the island as he spoke, “but we can faintly make out some lights… Seems to be coming from the harbor buildings.”

“Any response from the radio?”

“No, ever since we got close to this island, we've even lost the signal from Frost that we could always receive,” the first mate shook his head, “And we've received no response to our light signals either.”

Lawrence pondered for a moment, “Select twelve smart, cautious sailors, arm them, and join me in exploring the island.”

“You're going ashore personally?” the first mate was visibly taken aback, “This island seems very strange, and by doing this, there might be…”

“Risks? The risks are the same staying on the ship,” Lawrence shook his head, “It's not the island that's strange, it's this entire sea area. We're trapped in a large anomaly; danger is everywhere within it. Exploring the island at least gives us a chance to find useful intelligence.”

The first mate opened his mouth but had to admit that the captain's experience and judgment were valuable.

“All right, I'll go prepare.”

After a while, the first mate had picked out twelve sailors who met the criteria–all seasoned old sea dogs, with steadfast wills and devout faith, plus the first mate himself. In total, thirteen would join Lawrence in landing on the island.

The second mate was left in charge of the duties aboard the White Oak.

The rope ladder extended to the dock's pier, and Lawrence led his small scouting party onto the fog-enshrouded mysterious island.

The solid feeling underfoot somewhat eased the unease of the explorers. Standing on the dock, Lawrence stamped on the ground forcefully and turned his head, muttering, “At least the concrete is real.”

“The lights are in that direction,” said the first mate, holding a large-caliber rifle, looking up into the distance, “We can still see them from here, but there's still no sign of people moving around.”

“Don't spread out. Don't touch anything unfamiliar. If you hear sounds around you attempting to communicate, do not reply until verifying the source of the sound and the location of teammates,” Lawrence ordered sternly, “If you see anything suspicious in the fog, alert everyone immediately. Do not fire or leave the group to explore on your own.”

With that, he paused, surveying the team he had brought with him.

Twelve sailors, a first mate, and himself.

“Finally, remember, we have and only have fourteen people–before returning to the ship, there can be fewer people, but absolutely not more.”

The sailors immediately responded, “Aye, Captain!”

Lawrence nodded and led the team towards the thick fog.

They passed through the dock's pier, arriving at an open space that appeared to be a temporary storage area for cargo–with some remaining storage facilities and small lifting structures still visible, but besides these, no “human” figures could be seen.

“This place doesn't look like it's been abandoned for long,” the first mate muttered while scanning the surroundings, “it's as if this was a busy port just a few days ago.”

Lawrence, however, remained silent. He carefully observed the nearby port facilities when suddenly his gaze fell on a nameplate.

“Dagger Island Port Supplies.”

Dagger Island was the name of this island.

“This is Dagger Island?” The first mate came over, looking at the words on the nameplate, a hint of surprise in his eyes, “I've heard of this place… It's a small island near the Frost City-State, it once produced boiling gold, but I heard that it was converted into a military facility many years ago… Is this really Dagger Island?”

“Nothing here is to be trusted–we were just at a place that looked remarkably like 'Frost' where we briefly docked,” Lawrence shook his head, “Let's keep moving. The place where we saw the remaining light might be the port office, and there could be something there that answers our questions.”

The exploration team left the dock storage area, beginning their ascent up the sloping ramp towards the light that glimmered in the fog, each member with nerves on edge, paying close attention to the movements in the mist.

A very light breeze blew chaotically across the island, causing the grey-white thick fog to slowly swirl, the strange silhouettes barely visible in the distance all seemed to move along, swaying their bodies slightly as if they were some kind of living entities, and in the murky, chaotic fog, the light became more distinct and inched closer into everyone's field of vision.

The first mate at the front of the team suddenly stopped.

“What is this?” The first mate bent down, frowning at a pile of strange things by the side of the road.

Lawrence, holding a revolver in one hand and a lantern in the other, came beside the first mate and saw the pile.

It seemed to be a mass of grey-black mud–already dried up, the edges cracked, but the last moments of surging were still discernible.

It was as if a bubbling mass of boiling slime had all its moisture sucked out the next instant.

“Mud?” Lawrence furrowed his brows, not daring to touch the eerie stuff, “Why would there be mud here?”

“I think I saw some similar black mud back at the dock,” one of the sailors suddenly said, sounding unsure, “but it was mixed up with a bunch of debris at the time, and I thought it was just garbage…”

Lawrence nodded, and then another sailor suddenly cried out, “There's a pile here too!”

Lawrence looked in the direction of the voice and saw another heap of black mud on the other side of the road.

Was this stuff all over the island?

A feeling of unease spread in his heart, but no one could explain what the mud was. Lawrence carefully regrouped the team, instructing everyone to avoid contact with the strange “mud,” and then they continued their journey towards the depths of the dense fog.

After a while, they finally arrived at the end of the ramp, and as Lawrence had anticipated–they were at the location of the port office.

A small structure built of reinforced concrete stood there, with a slightly yellowed light spilling from the windows, no sounds coming from inside.

The building's main door was slightly ajar, with a nameplate nailed to the door that read “Port Integrated Office.”

Lawrence approached the door, listened for any movement inside, and then prepared to push the door open.

But suddenly, he froze.

Beside the door on the wall, a line of scratches that appeared to be hastily etched with a dagger caught his eyes–a sentence that read distinctly–
“Human beings have and only have two eyes!”

Chapter end

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