Ashes Of Deep Sea Chapter 754

Chapter 754: Chapter 751: Under the Night Sky Chapter 754: Chapter 751: Under the Night Sky In the future of fire, the world had burned away.

The flames were not eternal, and the wood inside the Shelter also had its limits, beyond the reshaped land and seas, that Eternal Veil still bound the entire world–and as everything within the veil turned to ashes in the flames, the world ended in a prolonged cooling.

It's said that this “cooling” lasted for a full four hundred years, and finally, the age of embers arrived–a cold ash covered the entire world, no new flames rose, no living being cried or breathed, the world stalled in this pile of cold ashes, with no new entities born nor old ones perishing.

In a sense, the Shelter that had experienced great annihilation finally found eternal peace, the embers had become ashes–the apocalypse was permanently frozen in that moment, no new suffering would fall upon this land ever again.

Duncan sat down beside a large rock, unconcerned, paying no mind to the omnipresent ashes around him as he observed the continuously crumbling, transforming into ashes city ruins on the plain, and suddenly spoke, “So, this option has no way back.”

“You can reshape everything,” Crit approached Duncan, his thin, gaunt body standing in the cold wind like a bent, dry twig, “but there is one exception.”

“Myself,” Duncan realized, speaking softly, “I cannot redefine myself…”

Crit remained silent, and after a long time, he spoke, “If there really is no way, the future of the flame is at least a continuation–but I wish you to be very cautious. Time is like a river, many of its tributaries can be rewritten, but only the main trunk crossing the finish line, once flowed past, offers no chance to turn back.”

“Don't worry about that, the moment I refused Navigator One's plan, I had actually figured out these things–that which you've shown me only further refines my initial speculation,” Duncan lightly shook his head, “More than these, what I've really gained is finally confirming something…”

While saying this, he stretched out his hand, slowly grasping in the air–a pale green Spiritual Body fire immediately ignited between his fingers, expanding and leaping like an illusion in the air.

The world of ashes seemed to be stirred by this strand of flame, the wind atop the mountain suddenly became a bit restless, and even the nearby ashes exhibited abnormal fluctuations–but this was merely an illusion of a moment, the next second, the wind and ashes returned to their original state.

In this terminated branch of history, there was nothing left to propel its progress forward.

Duncan quietly watched the flame in his hand, then casually flipped his palm.

The Spiritual Body fire extinguished instantly, the silently shattered flames turning into many tiny sparks, flickering briefly at his fingertips; for a moment, they looked like the phantom of distant starlight.

Duncan watched this scene with a grave expression, contemplative: “These 'fires' are indeed just superficial.”

Then, he turned his head to look at Crit still quietly standing beside him, “Can you see other choices in my history branches?”

“I'm sorry, I cannot,” Crit faced Duncan's gaze squarely, “We are ghosts trapped in the time loop inside the Shelter, only able to see everything within the range of this time river loop, while your other choices are outside the loop–for us, that's like a huge void in the night, and my sight cannot cross that vast darkness.”

“Outside the loop…that is to say, outside the 'known world' of the Shelter?” Duncan responded immediately, “So I really need to find a way to break through that Eternal Veil?”

“…Sorry, I don't know.”

“Is that so,” Duncan slowly nodded, suddenly feeling somewhat emotional, “At this moment, I kind of envy Duncan Ebnomal from a century ago–you revealed the future to him, even though it was an accident, but at least he knew where he was headed.”

“Groping in the dark is suffering, knowing fate is also suffering; at the end of time, there is no peace–sorry, we don't have good news; we haven't had any since the day we set off.”

“That's fine, I didn't expect good news; having some insights this time is enough,” Duncan rose from the large rock, his body untarnished by any ashes, “It's time to leave.”

His gaze last swept the sky and earth here, scanning the weak sunlight behind the clouds and the tall spire of the cathedral in the city ruins, he did not ask Crit about the future of others or their current whereabouts, instead, he turned around without any regrets.

The branch of history behind him collapsed thunderously, just like Prandt's great fire.

Lights and shadows chaotically reassembled, things returned to their original places, the dim and enclosed cabin reappeared in Duncan's field of view, the door leading to Subspace still quietly stood at the bottom of the cabin–as if nothing had happened.

Crit still stood beside the door, maintaining his stance of reaching out to tap the door frame.

He then withdrew his hand and bowed slightly toward Duncan Ebnomal, “I hope this hasn't caused you any trouble.”

“No big deal, I have plenty of troubles already, this is just a minor one,” Duncan said casually, “At least now we know one path is really bad.”

“The Shelter is beyond repair, and there's no longer any need to try to fix it, although I shouldn't say this,” Crite sighed, “But its destruction has been destined–that the apocalypse has been chasing this world through the river of time since The Great Annihilation, and now it has truly caught up.”

“…Doomsday prophecy, that's the theory that the Doomsday Preacher has always been preaching, and people have always thought it was just madness after your insanity.”

“Madness and sanity are only a hair's breadth apart, and the 'truth' does not care about the difference between them,” Crite said indifferently, “Maybe from another perspective, my companions have never truly gone mad; they are just… tired, and have chosen to embrace all truths, becoming madmen in everyone's eyes.”

“Will you become like that?” Duncan suddenly became curious, “In some timeline, or in the near future…”
“…I don't know,” Crite hesitated briefly and slowly shook his head, “Dusk has arrived, but this world will not suddenly go out; I still have a short part of my journey. And to communicate with you in this window of time, I could only bring the most stable 'part' of myself here, so the current me does not know what the end of my journey has seen, perhaps…”

He paused for a moment before continuing, “Perhaps one day in the future, we will meet again. The one appearing before you might be a deranged madman or a twisted shapeless monster. That would mean that I have reached the end, wandered in the darkness for too long, and perhaps…”

Crite suddenly stopped there, and then his gaze subtly shifted as if he had suddenly seen a direction in the prolonged darkness, suddenly thought of something, his deep facial wrinkles unfolding as he looked at Duncan, “Right… I'll do everything I can to meet you again, whether sane or mad, I will definitely appear before you–then there may not be a proper window of time, so I probably won't be able to talk directly to you like now, and you may not even be able to see me… but I will definitely try to leave something, you can…”

The old man's voice stopped abruptly.

In the dim and spacious cabin, only Duncan stood alone in front of the Subspace door.

Standing motionless like a sculpture for a long time, he finally turned around, picked up the brass lantern hanging nearby, and slowly walked toward the hatch exit.

…
It was now twelve hours after nightfall.

As the scholars had warned–the sun had not risen, and no dawn appeared on the horizon.

If there had been some who still harbored illusions, hoping the seventy-two-hour twilight was just an “isolated anomaly” and that the sun would rise as usual the next day, their hope was now completely extinguished.

The long night had become a reality.

Near Light Breeze Harbor, the four Ark ships remained anchored near the coastline, while the Luminous Geometric Body to the east of the shoreline continued to emit a soft, pale golden “sunlight,” preventing the entire City-State from plunging completely into darkness.

Lights were brightly lit on the Academy Ark.

The stout Rune stood in the “Temple of Knowledge” at the top of the Ark, devoutly praying in front of the statue of the God of Wisdom Rahm.

The prayer, composed of “0” and “1,” which had an unusual rhythm and pronunciation, was gradually nearing its end.

The incense smoke ascended in the temple, Rahm's statue standing silently amid the smoke. The statue did not have a human form but was a black rectangular Stele–the Stele was inscribed with the rune for “Eye of Wisdom” on the top, with densely packed symbols and intricate lines all over its body.

During Rune's prayer, those symbols and lines faintly glimmered, as if momentarily instilled with life.

But as the prayer ended, the Stele's brief “vitality” also dispersed.

Rune turned his head, looking at a truth officer who had been waiting beside him since earlier, “How are things now?”

“The bad news is that the sun still hasn't risen, and it seems the night will indeed last a very long time. The good news, according to monitoring data from various City-States, is that the drop in temperature is gradually slowing down–according to the current cooling curve, it seems that the extreme low temperatures in each City-State during this nightfall won't be lower than historical records; the world won't freeze completely in the long night as you feared… a 'cold disaster' won't occur.”

Listening to the officer's report, Rune's expression slightly relaxed, but he quickly furrowed his brow again, “…Is that really good news?”

Chapter end

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