Ashes Of Deep Sea Chapter 428

Chapter 428: Chapter 430: The Fog is Dissipating Chapter 428: Chapter 430: The Fog is Dissipating Madness leads the Heretics to their chilling doom–they embraced their deaths in the most horrifying way, following the Profound Demons of the Saint.

In a situation where the ritual was completely destroyed, the remaining Heretics chose mass sacrifice to forcibly complete the inversion of the Mirroring City.

Even with Laurence's half lifetime of extensive maritime experience, he had never seen such a terrifying, such a frenzied scene–
Hundreds of Heretics ecstatically threw themselves into the churning mud pool, where they melted, disintegrated, yet revelled madly as the Profound Demons with which they shared their lives fiercely detached from their chains, self-detonating violently around the “pool,” and a giant thorn tree crown rose from the center of the mud pool. As the Heretics' frantic sacrifices continued, it rapidly grew in size, covering the entire hall in the blink of an eye.

“I have realized!”

A frenzied shout came from within the tree crown, sounding as though a thousand voices were layered within it.

“We have realized!”

Countless Heretics who threw themselves into the mud were also shouting. Their voices shook the Second Waterway.

“I will execute!” “We will execute!”

“To fulfill the creator's blueprint!” “To fulfill the creator's blueprint!”

Boom!

Flames surged and spread across the hall, nearly instantly consuming the thorn tree crown. Laurence only had time to look up and see the crown rapidly disintegrating and collapsing in the Spectral Flame, turning into a scattering of grey-black dust that fell, while the black mud at the center of the hall was also ignited by the fire, where the Spiritual Fire rose, the surging of the mud quickly slowed and gradually turned to parched scorched earth.

The last batch of Heretics thrown into the mud pool turned directly into ashes in those flames.

Yet the vibration of the Second Waterway had not ceased, and the howling echoing in the sewer still hovered. The frenzied shouts of the Heretics during their sacrifice resounded like ghosts in this underground space, sending chills down the spine.

Laurence, disoriented and bewildered, looked around. He was still somewhat unclear on the situation and unconsciously spoke, “Did we make it? The ritual hasn't completed, right?”

“It seems like all the Heretics are dead… that 'tree' also burned down…” said 077, nervously glancing around, uneasy, “But why do I feel…”
“Not yet.”

A voice mixed with the sound of bursting flames suddenly emerged nearby, interrupting Laurence and the “sailor.”

Laurence immediately looked over.

Agatha also turned her gaze toward this group of “strangers” who came to help.

She still stood there, maintaining a posture being burned by flames. Compared to when she first entered this Mirroring City, her entire appearance had completely transformed–
Her black attire had turned into a ragged robe, like the coarse cloth of a suffering monk, draped over her body. Her body seemed like a disjointed, broken puppet, with horrifying scars and even gashes visible everywhere. Her blood had long been drained, and from those wounds, only green fire flowed like water. Her eyes had been burned by the Usurping Flame, leaving only hollows.

However, within those hollowed eye sockets, two of the brightest flames flickered–she lost the eyes of her fleshly body but gained an unimaginable new perspective.

She could see the energy still flowing in the hall, even seeing the energy of the entire Mirroring City in motion. She saw that some immense structure ran through the entire city and was still lifting the City upwards, closer to the real world.

Agatha stepped forward–Spiritual Flames spread beneath her feet, searing the floor with a squeaking sound. She reached out a hand and grabbed a thorn that had spread from the mud pool, applying a little force.

That “thorn” had already been dried by the Spectral Flame and she easily crushed it into pieces. But among the scattered pieces, tiny specks of light still flowed.

“The mirror is still ascending…” she muttered, as if talking to herself or reporting to someone, “The heretics here are all exterminated, but their legacy is still operative. This Mirroring City is alive, moving on its own toward reality… Sorry, I don't know how to stop it.”

Laurence walked over, curiously looking at Agatha, “Who are you talking to…”
He was cut off mid-sentence by a violent shake and a rumble from above. He and the sailors looked up in panic. A sight they would never forget then entered everyone's view–
The hall was quaking, and the thick rock, concrete, steel, and soil above it suddenly turned transparent. In that suddenly transparent stratum, he clearly saw layers and layers of structures above!

Drainage channels, power pipelines, steam transmission systems, subways, and even mountains, streets, buildings, churches above– the entire Frost City-State!

He saw Frost, through the thick layers, saw the Frost in the real world. He saw the city enveloped in dense fog, countless monsters still attacking everything in the city. The City-State Guards and the defenders were desperately fighting against the monsters. Darkness spread throughout the city, fear brewing in every corner…
Blood, gunsmoke, death.

“Oh… I think we're in big trouble…” Exception 077, like everyone else, looked up and hesitated before muttering, “Or maybe it's the people above us who are in big trouble…”

Lawrence was suddenly jolted awake. He realized what was about to happen–though the Heretics had been completely annihilated, their last ritual of sacrifice had succeeded. The mirror city had gained the trait of independent existence and was still ascending according to some “blueprint.” If this continued, Frost City-State in the real world would definitely not survive!

“Can't it be stopped?!” His eyes widened as he turned to Agatha and yelled, “We are about to overlap with the real world!”

But Agatha merely turned her head in silence, her gaze filled with flames falling upon Lawrence.

She didn't speak, yet a calm, authoritative voice directly resonated in Lawrence's mind, “Don't panic, this is just part of solving the issue.”

Lawrence blinked in surprise and immediately realized where the voice in his mind had come from. His muscles visibly tensed up, “The ship… Captain!”

“Relax a bit, and–brace yourself.”

Lawrence was left wide-eyed in confusion.

Meanwhile, on the side of the real world.

The roar of cannon fire still echoed across the boundless sea, as the remaining Frost Navy and the Mist Fleet desperately resisted the “ghosts” that continued to emerge from the dense fog.

As time passed, the number of Ghost Ships emerging from the fog not only didn't decrease but was actually increasing.

“Port side sighting an unidentified ship approaching! It's a fast gunboat… close-defense guns, prepare to fire!”

“A Frost Navy frigate has sunk in nearby waters, hull number S-30, removed from the identification list!”

“Fire on the aft deck! Damage control, damage control!”

Shouts of orders, the booming of main guns, the sound of explosions, and the loud crashes of water against the hulls–all these sounds mingled together, brewing an atmosphere reminiscent of doomsday.

Terrian stood on the bridge of Sea Mist, hands bracing the railing in front of him, his eyes intently fixed on the distant sea, his face grim as if brewing a storm.

The battle had lasted very long, yet no sign of victory was in sight. Ghostly enemy ships continuously surged from the mist surrounding the City-State, and the blockade over the entire sea area remained unlifted.

Undead sailors felt no fatigue, yet this intense continuous combat was still rapidly depleting the strength of the Mist Fleet–Sea Mist's own repair capabilities were approaching their limits, and now they couldn't even extinguish the fire on the deck but had to rely on the damage control teams running ragged. The Sea Raven had withdrawn from combat just minutes ago and was now limping towards the direction of Frost mainland.

Even the Mist Fleet was in such a state; one couldn't even think about the human-made Frost Navy.

Just by listening to the radio, one could tell the dire situation of the Frost Navy–their exhaustion had reached its limits, and the ship casualties and manpower reductions were perilously critical.

Ironically, every member of the Mist Fleet had spent the past half-century mocking and cursing that navy, yet now, almost everyone in the Mist Fleet hoped those humans could hold on a little longer, wished they could survive a few more.

A thunderous boom came from afar, accompanied by a bright flash emerging from the fog, which then turned into continuous bursts of light and a series of explosions.

Terrian instinctively looked in that direction and immediately ordered the communications officer to figure out what those explosions were. After some confusion, the first mate, Aiden, brought some bad news.

“A main ship of the Frost Navy, 'Lord Brucher,' its steam core severely damaged, reactor vessel breached, is now sinking.”

Terrian remained silent, slowly closing his eyes.

Lord Brucher–Sea Mist had encountered it a few times over the last two years. The commander of that ship was a very traditional Frostfolk.

A good man, a good ship.

But now gone.

“Record it. Maybe there will be a chance to mourn in the future,” Terrian opened his eyes and slowly shook his head, “We don't have time now–”
He was cut off mid-sentence by a sudden change of scenery visible through the portholes.

He looked out in surprise, the first mate and many others on the bridge also instinctively glanced outside.

The fog over the sea… was dissipating.

Chapter end

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