Ashes Of Deep Sea Chapter 403

Chapter 403: Chapter 407 Opening Chapter 403: Chapter 407 Opening The incessant roaring had completely shattered the peace in Cemetery No. 3, with the flames spouting from gun muzzles illuminating the dim fog again and again. Wavering, twisting figures emerged continuously from the fog, only to fall one by one under the sanctified fire and metallic onslaught–where they fell, a dark, ominous substance had already spread onto the path.

These were clearly no longer “agitated corpses”–they were more profane, more ominous beings that had to be utterly eradicated here.

The old man's marksmanship was precise; to him, the deformed creatures emerging from the fog were like slow-moving reptiles, and even through the thick fog, he could take them out with a single shot each.

In fact, he was more adept and experienced with a short sword and a walking stick–but the old man knew that he must avoid close combat with those monsters as long as possible.

He was already very old. The experience of an old soldier couldn't compensate for the decline of the body, and it seemed that the enemy could never be completely eradicated. Once the fight came to close-quarters, he would no longer be able to hold those monsters at bay across the path.

He had to calculate precisely, to use as little strength as possible to kill as many monsters as he could, to buy time. The cathedral and the City-State authorities must be taking action, reinforcements would come, from either side–the city would not fall to such a bewildering fog.

From afar, faint sounds of other gunfire reached them.

“Guardian Grandfather!” Anne shouted as she handed the freshly loaded rifle back to the old man, her gaze nervously following the direction from which the gunshots were coming. “There's shooting from other places… Are people coming to help us?”

“It's the guardians from Cemetery No. 4 and No. 2,” the old man lifted the muzzle of his rifle and with a resounding boom shattered an ugly head that emerged from the fog, saying without turning back, “Someone will come to help us, don't be afraid.”

“I'm not afraid,” Anne declared loudly, despite a quiver in her voice. The cemetery's old guardian, however, didn't call her out on this forcefully maintained bravery.

Because she was already brave enough.

“You are indeed very brave,” the old guardian said, trying to appear as relaxed as possible, even though his arms were actually starting to shake. “Where did you learn to do all this? How do you know how to load rifles and shotguns?”

“My mom has several guns,” Anne quickly pressed bullets into the tubular magazine of the double-barreled shotgun while speaking, “the year Dad didn't come back, Mom bought quite a few guns. She said she needed to protect our home… Ah!”

The catch on the magazine sprang open suddenly, the sharp metal edge slicing a long wound on the young girl's finger, causing her to cry out in surprise.

But the very next second, she used another finger to forcefully snap the catch back into place and handed the loaded shotgun to the old man, “Here you are.”

The old guardian noticed the blood on the gun and heard Anne's shock, but he was silent for a moment before tossing another gun backwards–“…Load it.”

Gunshots roared once more.

The hunched old man in black, like a bent but resilient tree, firmly anchored himself in the thick fog. He and Anne gradually stopped talking to each other, leaving only silent shooting and increasingly somber expressions. He counted–counted the number of monsters he had killed and how many times Anne had handed him a loaded shotgun or rifle.

“The last box of ammunition,” he muttered under his breath.

“Guardian Grandpa, the last box of ammo!” Anne almost simultaneously exclaimed with alarm.

“I know,” replied the old guardian without turning, silent as he dispatched a deformed freak that had nearly reached the cottage, then gestured behind him, “Load the shotgun then place it and the remaining bullets at my feet. Go under my bed, there's a dark brown box with spare ammunition.”

“Okay! Dark brown box, spare ammunition!” Anne repeated quickly, before forcefully pushing the gun and bullets outside, then turning to run inside the house.

The old guardian silently looked down at the shotgun and bullets at his feet, slightly turned his body, casually closed the door, and drew the short sword from his chest, driving it forcefully into the hook of the external bolt.

Almost the next second, he heard somewhat panicked footsteps inside the cottage, followed by the girl's vigorous knocking and shouts at the door.

“…I lied to you one last time.”

The old guardian whispered, then, with one hand on his gun, he continued to fire at the deformed monsters closest to him. Afterward, he quickly turned, leaping with force from the door frame; his free left hand swept over a corner above the frame, and he emerged with a pitch-black walking stick. Before landing, he slammed the stick down on another monster surfacing from the fog. As the creature's head shattered and its body dropped, he too landed steadily.

His eyes swept across the dense fog in front of him, he swung the black stick with force, the filthy black liquid splattering off like mutant blood. He then forcefully stamped the stick onto the ground, metal mechanisms clicked, and the pitch-black stick shortened by half an inch while countless sharp blades sprung out from its sides.

As the blades snapped open, it seemed as though they carried with them countless howls and roars from times past.

The dense fog that permeated the cemetery fell into a moment of silence.

The old guardian turned his head and glanced at the cabin door, looking at the hidden compartment above the door frame–like most veteran guardians, he chose to place the weapon that had accompanied him for half his life above the last door he guarded upon retirement, never expecting that he and his old companion would stand side by side in battle at this door once again.

“We guard a door… We are the guardians of Bartok…” The old man's back was still hunched over, and in the cold and dim fog, he slowly turned around, his gaze falling on the wavering figures, chanting the oath passed down through generations of guardians, “We swear to guard the frontier between life and death, so the dead may rest, and the living may find peace…”

The deformed creatures in the fog grew restless, numerous shaking figures began to cross the path, rushing towards the still-standing cabin.

In response, there was the sound of the old guardian's gunfire and the whoosh of a staff-sword cutting through the air.

“You don't want to rest, I'll give you rest!”

The sound of slashing, roaring, the thunderous firing of rifles and shotguns–the guardian's last stand made the cemetery tremble.

In the watchman's cabin, little Annie curled up at the door, hugging her head and listening to the noise outside.

She started to sob quietly, eventually turning into wailing amidst the roar of gunfire.

The twelve-year-old had been lied to by her guardian grandfather once again.

At the same time, in the seas beyond Frost.

The dense fog was not limited to the airspace above the City-State, having already crossed the near-sea boundary line around noon, covering the patrol range of the Mist Fleet.

In such rich and eerie fog, even the inherently Transcendent Cursed Fleet had to be on high alert.

On the bridge of Sea Mist, Tyrion stood with his brows furrowed in front of the large windows, staring at the wall-like dense fog on the sea's surface. First Mate Aiden approached him from behind, reporting the situation with a serious tone, “…as of now, communication with Cold Harbor, Ice Bay, and Pirate Island has been strongly disrupted, with no response on all frequencies, and although communication with Frost Navy and the ports of Frost Island is also affected, we can barely make contact. The coverage of the fog has spread at least a hundred nautical miles beyond Frost Island…

“Moreover, according to the reports from the boats we sent to the edge of the fog, the range of the fog has stopped spreading, and the density isn't increasing further, but attempts to sail out of the fog have failed–all boats trying to leave the fog end up turning in place, unknowingly circling back into the depths of the fog.”

“How's the Observatory doing?”

“Still unable to observe the correct constellations,” First Mate Aiden said with a grave expression, “It's as if a blurry lens suddenly appeared between Spirit Realm and the Mysterious Deep Sea, creating double images of the stars, and the mental pressure caused by stargazing has surged, making prolonged observation impossible.”

“…It looks like the blockade is in place, Frost City-State, and the surrounding seas are isolated from the 'normal world' outside,” Tyrion said expressionless, his one eye only containing calm, “Don't waste any effort trying to get out.”

“Blockade… Who created this blockade?”

“Use your brain for once–do you even need to ask?” Tyrion glanced back at Aiden, “The Heretics, the madmen who worship The Saint of the Mysterious Deep Sea, aren't they the ones causing trouble recently?”

“I know,” Aiden frowned, an expression as if to say “isn't this a bit much” on his face, “but can a bunch of heretics really pull off something this big?”

“A rabble of lunatics may not have the ability, but the 'Lord' they worship is another matter,” Tyrion placed his hand on the railing in front of him, his voice low, “The Saint of the Mysterious Deep Sea… Blocking spacetime, disturbing the stars… This is the might of an ancient deity?”

Aiden instinctively swallowed.

“So… We're really going up against the power of an ancient god this time?”

“Scared?”

“A little,” Aiden nodded, yet squeezed out an ugly smile, “But no way around it, such are the times–actually, if you think about it, it's not so bad. Everyone faced off against the old captain back then with gritted teeth, and at least now the old captain is on our side.”

“That's the spirit. Tell everyone to be ready,” Tyrion exhaled softly and waved his hand at his first mate, “Having left Frost so many years ago, we might have to stir up a big commotion in these seas again.”

(I'm going to Beijing for a trip tomorrow, over twenty days to Shanghai next, and I might also head to Shijiazhuang next month. I had a trip to Chengdu before that, feeling like I'm either on a business trip or on my way to one lately… Anyway, I'll release what I have saved for now so there won't be any interruptions, and then I'll try to update more if I get the chance during business trips.)

Chapter end

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