Ashes Of Deep Sea Chapter 387

Chapter 387: Chapter 391 Reflection Chapter 387: Chapter 391 Reflection Frost.

Lawrence instantly thought of the words “Martha” had once said to him. He could no longer distinguish whether the Martha of that time was his own hallucination or the “presence” emanating from the “Martha” before him, but he could be certain of one thing: he should go to Frost.

But how to get there?

“We've been searching for a long time,” Lawrence couldn't help frowning as he spoke, “Ever since we left the City-State port under cover of night, the White Oak has never again found that City-State–we returned along the same route, and there was only the sea.”

“We can't find it this way,” Martha said with a smile, shaking her head, “Lawrence, Frost is hiding from you.”

“Hiding from me?” Lawrence was momentarily stunned, “Why?”

Martha didn't speak but simply raised her hand to point at the Ghost Ship Flames quietly burning on Lawrence's body.

Lawrence immediately understood; he looked down at his own arm, which was like a Spiritual Body, and said thoughtfully, “So…that's why we left the City-State port without any interference… It wasn't because we sailed away from there, but because the City-State distanced itself from the White Oak?”

He raised his head, his expression becoming somewhat subtle, “Then what should we do? The White Oak is now even closer to Homeloss than when we left the port. If that City-State is consciously avoiding me, how could I possibly find it?”

“I will go find it,” Martha stated calmly and briefly.

“You will find it?” Lawrence didn't react at first, “Can you find it?”

“Of course, over the past many years, both my ship and I have always been a part of this sea region. Even though I'm now separated from this large community, it won't realize this in a short period–on the other hand, the Black Oak's current existence is closer to a 'reflection' of the White Oak. I haven't directly established a connection with Homeloss, at least not for now, so Frost won't hide from me… It's not as 'smart' as you think.”

Lawrence nodded half-heartedly but was still somewhat puzzled, “But that means only you can get close to it–what about me and the White Oak? As soon as we appear, it will surely 'flee' again…”

Martha smiled.

She stepped forward half a step and gently placed her hand on Lawrence's chest, her face bearing an expression full of meaning, and spoke softly, “It's simple, let's exchange places–for here, the boundaries between original and reflection aren't so clear.”

Lawrence was startled for a moment, and subconsciously wanted to ask what she meant, but before he could open his mouth, he felt a slight push at his chest.

This force was gentle, yet it made him feel as if the world was spinning. He felt himself falling backward, and in the moment before losing consciousness, he felt someone catch him from behind, Martha's soft voice ringing in his ear:
“Take a short nap, my love–the journey ahead is nothing short of miraculous.”

Lawrence drifted into a groggy sleep, but it seemed as though he had only slept for a moment before he abruptly opened his eyes, instinctively calling out, “Martha!”

However, what reached his ears was First Mate Gus's voice: “Captain, are you awake?”

Lawrence finally came fully to his senses. He struggled to sit up, gasping for air as he woke up abruptly, then looked around to realize that he was lying in the captain's quarters on the bed–with First Mate Gus standing by, looking worried, and a few sailors nearby.

And in a further corner, he saw a familiar figure–it was Subject 077, that mummy who, unnoticed, was idly sizing up a noose around his neck, but upon realizing Lawrence's gaze, he quickly hid the rope, pretending nothing had happened.

“What happened to me…” Lawrence caught his breath, rubbing his forehead while muttering, temporarily unable to tell whether he was dreaming or awake, the recent events flickering through his memory like illusions.

“You have returned to the White Oak, 'Sailor' brought you back,” the first mate promptly said, gesturing toward the mummy not far away, “You've been unconscious for several hours.”

“I remember… I remember exploring the Black Oak, I saw Martha there… Did all that really happen?” Lawrence rubbed his forehead forcefully, then looked up, “Where's the Black Oak now? Where is it now?”

“Your memory is fine, you did go to that ship, 'Sailor' also told us you met Ms. Martha there,” First Mate Gus helped Lawrence to his feet, but his face turned odd partway through his sentence, “As for where that ship is now… Captain, the current situation is a bit strange, I don't know how to explain it to you…”

“Strange?” Lawrence frowned, “What do you mean?”

“Our ship is now out of control, the wheel and propeller don't work. The White Oak is drifting like a Ghost Ship, and as for the Black Oak… I'll take you to see.”

Hearing the first mate's anxious words, Lawrence's expression immediately became stern. He pushed away the assisting hand and followed behind the sailors toward the door.

At the same time, he also noticed changes in himself and everyone else around–
The faintly burning Spectral Flame had somehow been extinguished, and everyone's bodies now appeared alive again, and the walls and floor no longer showed the burning state similar to Homeloss–the everything here seemed to have returned to normal.

The first mate noticed the captain's gaze and explained, “The flames receded a few hours ago, not long after you returned.”

Lawrence nodded silently, his mind more preoccupied with what could have happened to cause his normally composed first mate to exhibit such a flustered and helpless expression.

Soon, he left the cabin along with the sailors and stepped onto the deck of the Homeloss.

In just an instant, he realized something was eerily off about the surroundings.

It was damp and icy cold, as if soaked by seawater. The sky was utterly devoid of light, with only ghostly clumps of shadows floating overhead, no wind at his side, yet he felt a cold current brushing against every inch of his skin, and from time to time, strange turbulent patterns appeared nearby, like tiny bubbles rising in the air.

Lawrence felt aghast at the discordant surroundings and gradually began to understand what had happened. When first mate Gus led him to the edge of the ship's rail, he further confirmed his suspicions.

“The Ghost Ship is right there.”

The first mate stood at the edge of the ship's rail, pointing towards the water just below.

Lawrence looked down and saw the “sea's” slow undulation. The ripples caused by the Homeloss's passage distorted bizarrely, spreading slowly around. On the sea's surface, mirroring a warped mirror, he saw the “reflection” of the Homeloss.

It was a ship shrouded in dense fog and shadow, with a few lights resembling ghostly lanterns burning aboard. It “reflected” beneath the Homeloss, riding the wind and waves.

At that moment, Lawrence finally understood the meaning of Martha's parting words.

Now, the Homeloss was the reflection of the Ghost Ship.

“Captain…” First mate Gus, observing the changes in Lawrence's expression, accurately surmised from his years of following that the old captain might already know what was going on, “What's happening? Why has our reflection in the sea turned into the Ghost Ship? And the loss of control of the ship…”

“We haven't lost control–we are merely following the Ghost Ship's course,” Lawrence exhaled softly, his face breaking into a slight smile, “Let everyone rest well and gather strength. We are on our way to a place where all problems can be resolved.”

“A place where all problems can be resolved?” The first mate blinked, perplexed, “Where are we headed?”

“We are headed towards Frost.”

The veil of night was gradually enveloping the City-State.

Two figures were swiftly moving through the streets, now under curfew.

One figure was exceptionally tall and burly, wearing a black trench coat that evoked the falling night while the other seemed particularly short, even though clad in a thick winter garment, their slender frame unmistakably evident beneath.

A cold wind blew, and the small, frail figure let out a solid sneeze: “Achoo!”

Duncan lowered his head, looking at Sherry, who was rubbing her nose, “I told you to wear a scarf, and you wouldn't–nights in Frost are much colder than in Prand.”

“So cold…” Sherry subconsciously tightened her clothes. Although the garment was enough to fend off the surrounding chill, she still felt the wind biting to the bone. Having grown up in Prand, she clearly wasn't used to Frost's climate and now regretted venturing out.

Duncan looked at the girl with a half-smile, “Didn't you say you'd do anything as long as it didn't involve homework?”

At the mention of this, Sherry stiffened her neck in defiance against the cold wind, “Yes, I did say that!”

“Tough in every spot except your mouth,” Duncan sighed helplessly, then raised his head, his gaze reaching towards the distant alleys, “Let's go; I'd rather not deal with the night guards.”

Sherry hurried to keep up with Duncan's stride, her small legs struggling to move forward while she couldn't help but ask curiously, “What exactly are we doing?”

“Checking on someone's condition,” Duncan said casually as he walked on.

“Checking someone's condition?” Sherry looked up at the tall captain beside her, “Who?”

“The gatekeeper, Agatha,” Duncan replied indifferently.

His gaze, meanwhile, extended past the night sky, focusing on the stretch of alleys ahead.

A small cluster of spectral green flames flickered in his view, shining erratically, as if separated by a thick curtain.

Chapter end

Report