Ashes Of Deep Sea Chapter 657

Chapter 657: Chapter 654: Visit in the Shadows Chapter 657: Chapter 654: Visit in the Shadows Spacious and ornate, the grand hall, adorned with many reliefs and patterns related to the Abyssal Hound on its roof and walls, hosted a silent figure on the podium known as “The Saint”–a grotesque creature.

Atop the podium stood the “Skeleton Crown,” interwoven from dark bones. Among the intertwined nerves and blood vessels at the base of the crown were half-open, half-closed eyes, and in the center rested the terrifying brain, occasionally emitting low, indistinct sounds as it quivered slightly.

The lower-tier priests and ordinary disciples maintained their silence, standing cautiously and tensely in the corners of the hall. They kept their distance from the central podium, not daring to meet directly the eye stalks of The Saint, which were in a state of dormancy. A deep, oppressive atmosphere enveloped the space, as if the very air had solidified.

Everyone knew that The Saint was in a foul mood–and it was clearly related to the abrupt halt of recent operations.

Of course, the order to halt the operations had been issued by The Saint himself, but clearly, this was not seen as a desirable outcome by the revered entity–it wasn't supposed to go this way.

This silence and suppression continued for who knows how long before a voice suddenly appeared in the ears of every lower-tier priest and ordinary disciple–“Leave.”

As if granted a reprieve, the Annihilating disciples swiftly exited the meeting hall through the various doors in almost the blink of an eye, leaving only the upper-tier priests near the podium.

“Saint,” a high-ranking priest with neatly combed white hair and dressed in a black coat turned towards the podium and broke the silence, “we have received messages from Moco and Ciprod that the elves who were in a state of sleep and dissolution across the City-States are gradually recovering.”

“…The entrance to the Dreamscape has vanished, and the Skull of Dreams no longer responds to the 'blood meal',” another upper-tier priest immediately added. “From the current situation, it appears that the Dream of the Nameless has completely disappeared–yet until now, the followers of the sun have not contacted us.”

“They will no longer contact us,” finally came the response from within the Skeleton Crown. “The Scions of the Sun leading this operation have perished, and that loss is enough to plunge those followers into prolonged chaos… With that core 'Scions' lost, the branch that cooperated with us will cease to exist soon.

A stir erupted among the upper priests encircling the podium. After a brief moment of shock, the white-haired priest couldn't help but speak, “The Scions of the Sun have perished?! How did it die? Was it something deep within the Dreamscape…”
“I do not know. I only saw its brilliance suddenly extinguish at the end of its fate, and a vast shadow spread from where it went out, and even now, the shadow continues to spread towards us.”

The upper priests exchanged nervous looks. After a moment of silence, one of them hesitantly spoke: “Are you saying…that the shadow that killed the Scion of the Sun is still chasing us?”

“Our fate is enveloped in gloom,” The Saint slowly stated, “which has yet to dissipate.”

“We are now far from all City-States and major routes,” another upper-tier priest hesitated, “and we have also successfully avoided the patrols of the Great Church fleets on the borders…”
Immediately, another priest added, “Those lapdogs of the Four Maxim have recently concentrated a large number of fleets near the eastern borders, significantly weakening the patrol strength in other maritime borders. We passed very smoothly and should be able to return to the 'Holy Land' soon…”
Yet another priest joined in, “The 'Holy Land' is shrouded in dense mist at the border, and with 'The Master's' blessings there, even the Pilgrimage Ark of the Four Maxim cannot break through…”
The upper priests clamored, but The Saint on the podium remained silent. Gradually, the voices around the podium quieted down, and the priests sensibly shut their mouths.

“'He' is coming.”

After an indeterminate amount of time, The Saint's deep voice echoed suddenly in everyone's ears.

Accompanied by these few words, it was as if an invisible, frigid wind had suddenly swept through the hall–laden with an almost contagious terror and horror, causing those Annihilating Priests, whose hearts were as cold and hard as black iron, to shudder involuntarily.

One upper-tier priest almost immediately understood The Saint's meaning: “You mean…the specter that returned from Subspace…”
“How can that be?! We haven't had any dealings with 'his' followers after that…” another priest exclaimed in disbelief, “We withdrew from there before the Dream of the Nameless underwent even greater changes; we should have already severed all ties with 'him'…”
The Saint did not respond to the nervous and fearful voices of the feeble around him; instead, he slowly raised the eye stalks at his side. At the writhing ends of these tendrils, abscessed eyes surveyed the hall, as if peering through the walls, scanning the entire ship.

In The Saint's swollen and distorted eyes, reflections of the gloom in their fate could be seen, green flames burning in the shadows, gradually appearing in the near future on the sea surface–he saw death and fear approach–soon, most aboard this ship will die.

As for the others, their fate was even more tragic than death.

He had smelled the blood boiling in the flames beforehand, heard the screams that would soon resound–yet more desperate than the impending deaths was the fact that the shadow would continue to spread along this route; this ship was not the endpoint, simply a transit point for the spreading shadow.

The Saint slowly withdrew his eye stalks.

In the accessible, limited future, he had carefully made many choices, which had successfully allowed him to gain increasingly powerful forces, making this ship a symbol of “The Master's” will, but this time, he realized that no matter what choice he made, the gloom was always casting its shadow over their fate.

Regardless of ending “The Dream of the Nameless” early, changing the course of this “holy ship,” or isolating the entire ship's aura, they couldn't shake off that dreadful future.

The shadow enveloped him, and everyone else, and even… seemed like it was already on this ship.

Already on this ship?

In the Skeleton Crown atop the dais, the swollen, writhing brain suddenly paused for a moment, then the surrounding biological tissue gradually relaxed.

Accompanied by a flash of insight, The Saint noticed those pervasive shadows beginning to fade, and on the nearby sea surface, those pale green flames emerging from the darkness seemed to be gradually dissipating.

“…I've caught you,” he muttered softly.

A high-ranking priest quickly responded, “What have you found?”

“…gather everyone who has entered the Dream of the Nameless in the hall,” The Saint slowly began, while part of his eyeball observed the haze pervading the ship and the scent of death from the future continued to weaken, “especially those who have had contact with that girl who was in company with the Abyssal Hound… Richard, yes, bring him here… do not alarm, do not arouse his suspicion, gently guide him over.”

The haze in the hall completely receded, and the scent of death heard from various parts of the ship was rapidly weakening, and soon after on the sea surface, the pale green flames returned to the shadows.

The shadow was indeed on the ship; he once again noticed that tiny “turning point” in destiny–the right choice, a favorable outcome.

A high-ranking priest quickly left the assembly hall to carry out The Saint's orders.

Then, The Saint on the dais fell silent for a moment before commanding, “Also, stop the ship.”

The haze in destiny temporarily dissipated, yet a peculiar unease still lingered at the bottom of his heart, almost as if things would not simply end like this, the ghost that returned from the Subspace… might not be so easy to shake off.

Driven by necessary caution, The Saint decided to temporarily remain in this part of the sea, unable to let the ship continue towards the sacred ground until he was sure all risks were thoroughly eliminated…

A minute later, Richard awoke from a brief and chaotic nightmare.

An inexplicable cold breeze blew across his neck, and soft, indistinct whispers came from the corners of the room. The scenes from the nightmare had already faded from his mind, and he couldn't recall what he had dreamt about, only feeling a slowly dissipating, hangover-like palpitation lingering at the bottom of his heart, gradually morphing into a hazy impression with time's passage.

“She's coming to visit…”

A faint voice, as if emerging from his own mind, spoke up.

Richard sat up straight in bed.

Whispers were emerging from every corner of the room, the light shook on the nearby wall, casting many sporadic, bizarre shadows, interlacing like mycelium or as if an invisible spider web covered the entire cabin.

“It's time to meet the lady… dear doll…”

That soft voice spoke again.

Richard slowly blinked, the numbness and dullness in his mind seeming to gradually fade. He got out of bed, walked over to a side locker, opened it, and after rummaging for a while, finally found what he needed.

It was a large roll of paper and several pencils.

These were the materials he usually used to practice drawing runes.

After quietly observing these items for a few seconds, a smile finally appeared on Richard's face. He carried the paper and pencils to the bed, without hesitation threw his bedding aside on the floor, and directly spread the large roll of paper on the flat bed board.

“They've come for you… don't waste time.”

Richard softly repeated the whispers in his mind, a smile lingering on his lips, pencil in hand, he bent down and skillfully began to sketch.

A beautiful lady's visage emerged in his mind and gradually took shape on the paper.

Chapter end

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