A gentle breeze stirred the sea, creating waves that lapped against the sturdy hull of the Vanished. Nevertheless, seemingly unfazed by the wind and waves, this colossal ship maintained its steady course, sailing full speed towards the north.
The ethereal spirit sails soared high in the night, accompanied by the occasional creaks and groans from the tension between the ropes and the masts. The living phantom ship seemed to sigh joyfully amidst the wind and waves while the new crew members on board appeared to have much on their minds.
Vanna had discovered the truth about the Frostbite Rebellion that occurred half a century ago from Duncan, as well as the mysterious and sinister Abyss Plan. Even now, fifty years later, the chilling plan still cast its lingering shadows.
In contrast to the apocalyptic fire that Pland had once faced, the Abyss Plan in Frost was a disaster of a different kind—dark, cold, and intangible horrors lurked in the abyss, with catastrophes that might be unfolding, might have already occurred, or might have already concluded. In the cold night, no sound could capture the essence of this unseen terror.
While Pland’s Black Sun event was a fierce and brilliant conflict, the events beneath Frost’s deep sea were a silent, twisted nightmare.
“According to Tyrian, the Abyss Plan has already concluded, and all subsequent effects of that year ended with the Frost Queen’s demise. However, we have no evidence to confirm that the supernatural phenomenon beneath Frost has genuinely ceased. In fact, we don’t even know what it is. From start to finish, the entire affair is cloaked in a veil of fog. And now, Morris has received a letter from Frost, signaling that something is amiss in that northern city-state.”
Duncan’s deep voice carried on the night breeze before he paused, then abruptly turned to Vanna, “Did Helena mention the ‘disturbance’ in the northern seas to you?”
“Pope Helena?” Vanna hesitated, then gently shook her head, “She didn’t mention it. She simply told me to board the Vanished but didn’t actually specify what I should do.”
“She didn’t, huh…” Duncan murmured, not dwelling on the subject, “Well, don’t overthink it. Just acclimate to life on the ship, and don’t worry, I won’t assign you any challenging tasks.”
He gazed at the dark night sky and the faint Sea Mist on the distant Boundless Sea.
“It’s getting late, and it’s best to avoid too much exposure to the cold wind on deck—nighttime sea breezes can be harsh on both body and mind.”
Vanna looked at Duncan with surprise—a reaction she had displayed numerous times throughout the day—before nodding belatedly, “Ah, okay, thank you.”
As she spoke, she fumbled for a small wooden piece in her shirt pocket—it was a wave amulet carved from sea-breath wood. She pressed the amulet to her lips, whispered a few prayers, and then hurled it forcefully into the sea beyond the ship’s railing.
Duncan observed Vanna’s actions with curiosity, “What are you doing?”
“That was a wave amulet I personally carved from sea-breath wood. Devotees of the Storm Goddess offer prayers this way when embarking on a journey,” Vanna casually explained, “Sea-breath wood is believed to be favored by the Storm Goddess, and casting the amulet into the sea represents an ancient act of sacrifice. Praying while releasing the amulet helps forge a stronger connection with the goddess.”
As she spoke, she suddenly stopped, then hesitated, “Do my actions bother you?”
“Ah, not at all. As I’ve mentioned before, the atmosphere on the Vanished is more laid-back than you might think,” Duncan immediately shook his head with a smile, “Morris typically offers prayers to the God of Wisdom as well.”
With that, he waved to Vanna and slowly headed towards the captain’s quarters, “I’m heading back. You should get some rest.”
The sound of the waves ebbed and flowed as Vanna watched Duncan’s tall figure gradually fade from her sight. Suddenly, she recalled something and called out to him, “Captain!”
Duncan halted but didn’t turn around, “What is it?”
Vanna opened her mouth, hesitated briefly, and finally said, “I want to apologize to you – for my past impetuousness…”
“I don’t mind,” Duncan said nonchalantly, waved his hand, and walked away without looking back.
Vanna remained on deck, seemingly deep in thought.
Behind her, the wave amulet carved from sea-breath wood had been tossed about by the waves for some time when it was suddenly caught by a wave and swiftly swallowed into the depths of the ocean.
…
Inside the captain’s quarters, the goat head creaked as it raised its head and regarded Duncan, who had just entered the room, “Ah, Captain, have you finished reassuring the new crew member? Today has been an extraordinary day; a high-ranking priestess devoted to the Storm Goddess joined your crew. I’d consider this a kind of war trophy, wouldn’t you?”
Duncan lifted his eyelids and glanced at the goat head, “You can say that to Vanna next time.”
“…I can’t beat her.”
“Then stop talking nonsense,” Duncan said casually, glancing at the sea chart as he passed by, “Where are we now? What’s the situation with the Sea Mist?”
“The Sea Mist continues to sail at full speed, but it has recently adjusted its course slightly on two occasions. Judging from its position, it may already be close to the Sea Mist Fleet’s secret base,” the goat head promptly replied, “We should enter the Cold Sea before dawn and then sail north for another four or five days to be near Frost… Will we head directly there or conceal ourselves in the nearby waters?”
“For now, let’s remain hidden,” Duncan said, “I’m not prepared for a ‘warm encounter’ with Frost’s city guards.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Duncan pondered momentarily and said, “Also, once the Sea Mist stops, go and investigate – without revealing ourselves, scout the location and surroundings of Tyrian’s secret harbor. That should be easy for the Vanished, which can lurk in the spirit world for an extended period.”
“Ah, of course, that’s very easy,” the goat head immediately agreed, “But… what’s your purpose in investigating that secret harbor?”
“If Frost is indeed facing trouble and connected to the secrets beneath the ocean, I believe Tyrian would take action. Monitoring him would be akin to keeping an eye on Frost. If the circumstances allow, we can remain concealed near the Sea Mist,” Duncan explained.
“Understood,” Goathead promptly replied.
Duncan nodded and made his way to his bedroom. “I will attempt to ‘investigate’ the situation in Frost. Unless necessary, do not disturb me.”
“Aye, Captain!” Goathead responded.
The bedroom door closed behind Duncan. Once out of sight, he let out a soft sigh and sat at his desk, stretching his tense shoulders to relax.
Ai, resting near the window, awoke and fluttered onto the table. “A quick meal or a stay at the inn?”
Duncan glanced at the bird. “Traveling through the spirit realm.”
Upon his words, the brass compass hanging around Ai’s neck snapped open, and a green flame emerged from within. In an instant, Duncan’s view transformed as he found himself in a vast, tumultuous darkness filled with countless stars and lines.
Ai’s figure materialized from the darkness, a skeletal bird enveloped in ghostly fire circling around him.
However, Duncan did not immediately move or touch any nearby cluster of stars. Instead, he carefully observed the flickering lights in his vision, sensing the faint auras they emitted.
As anticipated, as the Vanished continued to distance itself from Pland and approach Frost, the stars he saw in this space also changed.
Duncan looked up, sensing his body back in Pland, and followed his perception into the darkness, where he spotted a hazy, distant cluster of light.
He shifted his focus from the far-off lights and concentrated on the bright “stars” before him.
After some consideration, he cautiously approached some of the lights and touched a few of them.
Rather than directly occupying the shells these lights represented, he used this method to access the shallow information behind them—emotions, perceptions, and even fragmented superficial consciousness.
Cold, tension, fuel prices, steam supply, city hall, Frost…
After touching several lights, Duncan withdrew his will.
Continuing to touch these “living” lights could cause widespread alarm and potentially draw the attention of the city’s protectors. He didn’t want to confront a foreign church just yet.
The information he had collected so far was sufficient. Just from the few lights he had touched, he could confirm that these stars represented Frost’s inhabitants, or at least a portion of them.
Duncan’s gaze swept across a dizzying array of stars, searching for those with faint, weak lights and fading life forces.
He needed a suitable body to serve as a scout for gathering intelligence.
Moments later, a flickering, dim light caught his eye.
“It’s you!”
