Ashes Of Deep Sea Chapter 684

Chapter 684: Chapter 681 “Madness”? Chapter 684: Chapter 681 “Madness”? Frem's gaze was instantly drawn to the massive “staff,” and he stared at it for a long time before squeezing out some words from his lips, “…the eternal burning kindling…”

After several seconds of silence, he finally lifted his head, his gaze falling on Fenna and Duncan, “You brought it out, is…”

“This was Fenna's idea,” Duncan shook his head and took a half step back, “She believes the staff should be handed over to the Church of the Flame Transmitter.”

Frem's eyes widened slightly, and he looked at Miss Judge in astonishment.

“Tarrikin left this staff with me as a memento of parting, but at that time, He was unaware of the existence of the Mysterious Deep Sea era,” Fenna sighed softly, speaking in a calm tone, “Perhaps the Tarrikin I saw was just a shadow, perhaps the Senkin People of the Mysterious Deep Sea era were just 'Replicas' recreated after the third long night, but some things… belong to whom they should, and the legacy of a civilization should not become a personal collection. It would be more meaningful to hand it over to the Church of the Flame Transmitter than to keep it in my hands.”

The table fell quiet for a while, Helena, Rune, and Banster exchanged glances and then wisely shut their mouths, while Frem slowly reached out his hand, his rock-like fingers carefully rubbing the rough surface of the staff.

The dense inscriptions on the staff seemed to be engraved with solidified time, silently telling the tale of a civilization long forgotten by sentient beings, a race that staggered up from the wilderness, walked toward glory, and then to its conclusion.

But Frem could not even recognize a single character on it–he only felt that every mark on it was incredibly familiar, so familiar as if it were etched into his own soul. Yet it was also peculiarly foreign, strange like text from another dimension.

A complex emotion welled up from deep within him.

“The Elves had the same feeling as you when they first excavated those scrolls from the Dark Isles,” Rune suddenly broke the silence from the side, the elderly elf watching the changes in Frem's expression and spoke out, “We've been through it, I understand.”

“…This carries a complete evolution of text; we will always figure out their meanings,” Frem said softly, “The Flame Transmitters are experts in this.”

He suddenly raised his head, his expression especially solemn as he looked into Fenna's eyes.

“I will imprint all the marks here for the study of the Senkin People's text and history–we only need to take these.”

Fenna hesitated, puzzled and surprised, “Of course that's fine… but what do you mean, the staff…”

“It's a gift from my Lord to you, leaving it in your hands is the will of the Saint,” Frem slowly shook his head, “And Miss Fenna, the legacy of a civilization is not this staff brought out from the Dreamscape–the real legacy is here, it is the history recorded in these inscriptions.”

The fingers of the Pope of the Flame Transmitter gently brushed the surface of the staff, and at those uneven notches, his fingertips seemed to have touched the ancient lost years.

“Even today, whether we are willing to admit it or not, the content recorded in the Book of Desecration by those Heretics can no longer be denied. The true history of our world begins with the third long night; everything in this mundane world is a 'Replica' born from ashes. And for a world replicated in ashes… the significance of excavating 'memories' and 'history' has far surpassed the pursuit of 'relics' themselves–Miss Fenna, we only need to take the text from here.”

Fenna blinked, finding the situation somewhat beyond her expectations. She subconsciously looked up at Duncan, who nodded at her slightly.

“…I understand,” Fenna let out a soft breath, “Then I will take good care of it, treating it as an object equivalent to honor and life.”

“Very well, that settles this question, then,” Duncan broke the silence. He stepped forward, a faint smile on his face, but quickly he seemed to remember something and couldn't help but speak up, “…But speaking of which, after Fenna brought this 'Chronicle Pillar' into the real world, your Church of the Flame Transmitter also hasn't received any 'feedback' or 'revelation' from Tarrikin?”

“No,” Frem shook his head and admitted frankly, “As we just mentioned in the meeting, the connection between our world and the divine has become exceptionally difficult. Not only is the 'voice' itself becoming weaker, but even the information that barely comes through… is increasingly mixed with more interference and noise. Now the only good news is that the 'powers' bestowed by the gods still work on the Endless Sea, but apart from that, none of us four have heard a clear voice from 'Them' in years.”

“I can only access the Goddess's vague revelations and occasional guidance,” Fenna immediately added from the side, “Although the Goddess still responds quickly to my calls, that 'response' has indeed always been very vague.”

“The decline and death of gods is a process utterly unlike that of mortals,” Rune also spoke up, “We still can't decipher the secrets therein, but clearly, They are still rational to this day–only this 'rationality' can no longer be accurately conveyed to the minds of mortals, as if some sort of 'cognitive dissonance' has arisen between the two. This 'dissonance' is making it increasingly difficult for our minds to understand Their 'voices'…”

Rune paused for a moment and, after a brief reflection, continued with a hint of hesitation, “Frankly, this makes me think of the 'Mad Bird' tale again.”

Helena's expression changed slightly in an instant. She seemed to understand Rune's meaning at once, “Are you saying… the essence of the 'death state' of the gods is gradually deviating from our world on a 'cognitive' level? The interference and noise that have been growing stronger over the years that we have received from the ark… Are they some kind of intensifying 'Madman Bird Effect'?”

“This is a speculation I've only recently come up with–after the incident at Light Breeze Harbor,” Rune nodded gently, “It is also the only speculation so far that can explain the increasingly intense 'noise.'”
Duncan had been silently listening to the discussion among the judges until they nearly concluded their talk, at which point he suddenly spoke up, “In fact… I was about to say, I can occasionally 'hear' Their voices, or see the messages They have sent.”

Helena and Frem and the others instantly fell silent.

The four judges slowly turned their heads, eyes landing on Duncan with expressions akin to having seen a ghost–
To be fair, with their abilities, they probably would have been much calmer if they had actually seen a ghost.

“Are you telling the truth?!” Helena was the first to speak, “You're saying you can clearly hear the voices of the gods? They even… send you messages?!”

Even the always composed Frem couldn't maintain his composure, the Judge of the Senkin People, who resembled a small giant, came directly around the table to face Duncan, “You have direct contact with the gods? Through what means have you made contact?!”

“Stop, stop, stop, I only said 'occasionally,'” Duncan quickly waved his hands, knowing that the four judges before him were clearly misunderstanding, “That can't be called any 'direct contact,' but indeed… it's quite clear. In fact, I don't understand what you're always talking about–'noise' and 'interference.' I've never encountered them.”

The judges exchanged looks.

Duncan, however, didn't hide the several instances where he coincidentally heard or saw messages from the gods–including annotations he had seen, or traces of divine communication he had witnessed in that eerie, dark space.

Of course, he kept the specific contents of these communications to himself.

Afterward, the hall fell quiet for a long time.

It was Frem, the composed Senkin, who first broke the silence, looking at Rune, “…This at least seems to prove that 'They' are indeed still sane.”

“Yes, maintaining sanity,” Rune snapped out of a brief daze, immediately beginning to think, “If this is true… If my speculation just now isn't too far off…”

He paused for a moment, quickly organizing his thoughts clearly–
“The whole situation could be interpreted like this: The gods still have sanity, but Their 'sanity' has begun to deviate from the minds of mortals, even from the whole world, making it difficult for us to contact Them, or even the world beginning to be contaminated by Them. On the other hand, Captain Duncan, due to his own uniqueness, is completely unaffected by this 'deviation'…”
Rune suddenly stopped again, feeling as if there were still some ambiguities or unexplainable contradictions in his 'theory,' and fell back into thought. It was at this moment that Duncan suddenly thought of something else.

“I remember… according to the recognized conclusions of scholars and the church in the current world, the 'Mysterious Saint' in the Mysterious Deep Sea is an ancient god that has completely lost control and gone mad?”

“Of course,” Rune replied immediately without any hesitation, “The Mysterious Saint is an existence completely devoid of sanity, just like the Black Sun. We have direct evidence of this–although humans can't enter the Mysterious Deep Sea alive, through complex and dangerous rituals, we are able to 'observe' the conditions at that depth…”

“I've chatted with the Mysterious Saint too,” Duncan shrugged, “Frankly speaking, I think His mental state is actually quite fine–although He's been saying He's been having a rough time lately.”

Rune: “…?”

Duncan looked at the ghost-like expressions on the faces of several judges, hesitated for a moment, but decided to continue anyway–after all, the atmosphere had reached this point.

“Also, about the 'Black Sun' we just mentioned… I've met Him too, although we only exchanged a sentence or two–He really does seem to be having a tough time.”

Rune, Helena, Banster, and Frem all shared one expression: “…?!”

Chapter end

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