Ashes Of Deep Sea Chapter 693

Chapter 693: Chapter 690: The Keeper of Secrets and the 'Sailor Chapter 693: Chapter 690: The Keeper of Secrets and the 'Sailor This time, the sun extinguished its light as dusk approached–thus, not long after the sky was re-lit, the sunlight gradually retreated from the sea surface.

The splendid double Rune Circle of Anomaly 001 slowly sank into the sea, accompanied by the last glimmer of twilight disappearing into the sky, and night fell–over the areas of the City-State that the “Luminous Geometric Body” couldn't directly illuminate, the Creation of the World's cold brilliance and the darkness enshrouded everything as usual.

The city quieted down, the gas lamps in the streets emitted a slightly murky glow amidst the darkness, and the patrolling guards' squad moved through the alleyways, leaving long shadows at the intersections–the experience of the sun extinguishing felt like a not-so-vivid dream, gradually melting into this night.

However, Duncan could feel that this “nightmare” hadn't really receded as it seemed–some oppressive air still loomed over the city, fostering tension and unease in these quiet districts, thick as sludge growing under the night's veil.

“…Every household has turned on all their lights, there is a tense air everywhere,” Sherry murmured as she leaned on the living room window, watching the street outside, “I definitely don't want to go out there now… I feel like I can't even breathe.”

A Dog shook his head beside her, “Today the guards have at least doubled outside; if you go out now, you'll get pinned down by the night patrol immediately, then forget about breathing. Then the captain will have to haul us out of the jail again…”
Fenna leaned against the window, glanced down at Sherry who was sprawled on the windowsill, “Didn't expect you to be so sensitive to 'atmospheres.'”
“I'm familiar with this feeling. Gas lamps in the Lower City District always light up later than other districts. As dusk approaches, many homes can't power up electric lights, and a tense atmosphere emerges as the sky darkens–until the gas lamps are lit, the whole street breathes a sigh of relief. It's like a 'whoosh'–then we know it's safe to sleep.”

“But even though the city is ablaze with lights tonight, many will undoubtedly endure a sleepless night,” Duncan walked over, pressed one hand on Sherry's hair, and ruffled A Dog's head with the other, “After the sun extinguished for the second time, even the most optimistic people probably can't help but start worrying about one question–whether tomorrow's sun will rise at all.”

Sherry tilted her head to the side, then suddenly looked up at Duncan with a startled gaze, “…Ah!? It really won't rise tomorrow?!”

Duncan made a weird face, “…How would I know? What I say doesn't count.”

“Oh,” Sherry scratched her hair, “That seems right…”
Lucy then walked over from the side, “The 'Observatory' reported that the signal from the luminous body has completely ceased, and now they are preparing to send a team into the body of light to check if the stone sphere has undergone any changes.”

Duncan raised an eyebrow, “Nighttime work?”

“For the sea area where the 'Luminous Geometric Body' is located, it's always day,” Lucy explained as she spread her hands, “Sunlight can stabilize the aberrant forces of the Endless Sea, and research work around the luminous body has always been conducted in 24-hour shifts.”

Duncan nodded, then suddenly turned contemplatively to look at Alice, who was not far away, winding up Luny.

Miss Puppet, sensing his gaze, lifted her head and revealed a harmlessly smiling face.

After the sun was re-lit, the fault signal in Alice's “eyes” had disappeared, and she seemingly returned to her daily routine as if nothing had happened.

Yet, Duncan grew suddenly curious… What would happen if he took her to that “stone sphere” now? This doll, theoretically a creation of the Deep Saint, standing in front of a fragment of Anomaly 001, also made by the Deep Saint–would it “see” something again that ordinary people couldn't?

In fact, Duncan had previously taken Alice to see the Luminous Geometric Body, but at that time nobody realized the almost “symbiotic” connection between Alice and Anomaly 001, so he hadn't specifically tested this before, and Alice herself hadn't focused on the luminous body– but this time, he wanted to conduct some purposeful “tests.”

“…Lucy, I need you to arrange something,” Duncan turned his head, looking towards Lucy, “I want to take Alice to see the 'stone sphere.'”
Lucy was taken aback but quickly grasped Duncan's intention and nodded immediately, “Understood.”

Duncan hummed affirmatively and then looked towards the midair beside him.

A faint green flame ignited out of thin air under his concentrated gaze, and a plump pigeon burning with Spiritual Fire flapped its wings before him: “Transition successful! Transition successful!”

“We should also bring over that unfortunate 'Truth Confidant,'” Duncan casually remarked, “Go check on Lawrence–White Oak can serve as the beacon. Know the way?”

Ai Yi cocked his head, pondered a moment, then vigorously flapped his wings: “Air wife! Fantasy wife! Air wife! Fantasy wife!”

“…Lawrence's wife is no longer a fantasy–don't say this in front of Martha, or she might stew you,” Duncan's eyes twitched as he glared at the increasingly plump pigeon, “I've thought about it; you'll depart later, then directly bring Ted Riel to the stone sphere, I have some things to discuss with him.”

The pigeon immediately became excited again, “Talk therapy, also known as chat therapy~~”
Duncan: “…”

Ted Riel put on a warm thick coat and slowly walked on the deck at the stern, the cold night wind blew from the sea carrying a salty scent, and the sound of the small waves hitting the hull intermittently rose and fell in the night, gradually calming his mind.

The sun, after reigniting, had normally set, and after the usual dusk came the quiet night. At this moment, even the cold light of the Creation of the World seemed somewhat kind.

“As someone who just backstroke swam back from Subspace, your recovery isn't too bad.”

A hoarse and unpleasant voice came from the nearby deck. Following the sound, Ted looked over and saw the ugly mummified corpse dressed in a sailor's jacket, sitting on a coil of rope near the ship's railing, smiling in the night.

That smile was enough to give someone nightmares for a night.

Ted frowned and walked toward the mummified corpse, leaning against the nearby railing.

“You don't really need that thick coat, do you, Confidant?” the “sailor” glanced at the coat Ted Riel was wearing and commented casually, “As far as I know, the 'Saints' have a constitution different from ordinary people. A little soak in the sea should not make you feel cold… Or is it still the chill of the Subspace soaking into you?”

“…This is Captain Lawrence's kindness,” Ted looked at the coat he was wearing and commented offhandedly, then frowned again, “Why do I feel… you seem to know a lot about 'Saints'?”

“I know a little,” the “sailor” grinned, laughing darkly, “I know that no matter what you were before, after receiving the blessing, you can no longer be considered fully 'alive'. I also know that your skin can resist blades, your bones can regenerate, your hearts can continue to pump blood even when shattered, you can survive for days without breathing, and even someone like you, a 'scholar', after promotion, can withstand the extremes of temperature, diseases and various poisons…”
He paused, casually pulling out a bottle of beer from nearby, swaying it as he continued, “Strictly speaking, you 'Saints' are actually just a bunch of anomalies in a de-sealed state. Normally, anomalies lose control once de-sealed, but you… those who blessed you still control you.”

Listening to the incessant chatter of the mummified corpse, Ted Riel's expression suddenly turned serious, “How do you know so much?”

“I am a 'sailor', and sailors should know a lot of strange things, as we are the wandering souls on the Endless Sea–wandering in life or in death. The longer you wander, the more you know. There's nothing new on the Endless Sea,” the “sailor” pulled his mouth into a smile, lifting the beer in his hand and swayed it, “Want a sip? Genuine Storm brew, fine self-produced liquor by the Deep Sea Church, I sneakily took it from the captain's collection.”

“…You dare to steal the captain's things?”

“Stealing liquor from the captain's collection is a necessary part of being a 'sailor'–getting hanged on the mast afterwards is another,” the mummy laughed hoarsely, lifting the beer bottle and pouring it into his throat. The liquid then flowed out from the large hole on the side of his neck and his chest, dripping onto the deck, “Hiss–good liquor.”

Ted Riel, however, did not pay attention to the mummy's interruption and continued to look skeptically at this anomaly, numbered 077 and officially marked as “Specially Uncontrolled”, then suddenly asked, “You used to be a person?”

“I have no idea,” the sailor shrugged carelessly, “Anyway, 'people' can turn into anomalies under certain conditions. If you think I was, then I was.”

Ted Riel noticed that the sailor didn't directly answer his question, so he didn't pursue further. After a few seconds of silence, he suddenly changed the subject, “Where is this ship heading?”

“To Rensa, the captain took a big order to pick up twelve sealed items there, transferring them to another City-State in the north.”

“… How many?!”

“Twelve.”

“…A large transport ship escorted by Saints themselves usually has a limit of eight anomalies per transport–don't you consider the stringent containment conditions of anomalies and the possibility of mutual conflict and influence?” Ted Riel was astounded, “Who signed your permit?!”

“The Deep Sea Church signed it, what's wrong?” The sailor glanced at Ted, “Don't be so surprised. This is the Exiled Fleet faithfully carrying out the transport–we transport twelve at a time because Rensa only has twelve sealed items that meet the transportation conditions. As for the control of the sealed items…”
The mummy paused, raising his hand and pointing to himself, “I am the only 'uncontrolled' anomaly on this ship, now on a 24-hour shift, fighting off-board, scrubbing the deck on-board, and responsible for diving to rescue people who backstroke from Subspace. If you gave me a chance to do it over, I would choose to rot in a shroud–I wouldn't wake up–even the anomalies that need 'transition transport' to enhance the sealing effect have a certain level of cognitive ability. They see what I'm like, and after boarding, each one of them becomes as quiet as quails, even those with innate mobility have learned to help close the door after the captain inspects the sealing chambers…”
Ted Riel: “…?”

Chapter end

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