Aiden returned to the bridge where Tyrian was waiting for him.
“The unloading process is going smoothly, and it will take about an hour to transfer all the goods from the cargo hold to the port warehouse,” the bald first mate energetically reported, with every fold of his clothes still exuding the strong smell of tobacco. “The sailors left on the island really enjoyed the ‘local specialties’ you brought back.”
“There’s a party tonight; you’re welcome to join if you’re interested,” Tyrian mentioned casually, then couldn’t help but glance at Aiden again, frowning and wrinkling his nose, “Did you smoke so much that you set yourself on fire?”
“…Maybe a bit too much,” Aiden admitted awkwardly, touching his nose, “Tobacco from Pland always makes it… hard to let go.”
“Be more careful; you smell like a piece of bacon right now,” Tyrian shook his head, cautioned him casually, and then changed the subject, “Lately, I’ve often heard the sailors discussing Frost.”
“The news has indeed spread,” Aiden’s expression grew more serious upon hearing the captain’s words, “The resurrection of the dead, regardless of the rumor’s source, is content enough to spark sailors’ discussions—after all, we’re all undead.”
“The undead, huh…” Tyrian murmured, repeating the term, “Are they looking forward to truly coming back to life?”
“To be honest, anyone with a little sense would know that it’s impossible,” Aiden shrugged. “Ordinary people might still fantasize about such topics, but the more one is undead, the more one realizes that true resurrection can only be a rumor. Death’s gate is one-way, and our souls that have been twisted and changed can no longer pass through it so we linger in the world as the so-called ‘undead.’ As for the boundary between life and death, everyone is quite clear about it; after all, everyone had lingered in front of that gate for a while when confronted with death.”
Tyrian nodded slightly, pondered momentarily, and asked, “Why has this topic attracted so much discussion?”
“True resurrection won’t happen, so everyone is speculating that those so-called revived people might actually be… ‘undead’,” Aiden grinned. “You know, most city-states don’t like the living dead, and Frost hates them even more, considering it a ‘curse from the outer sea.’ Although it’s not fair to blame the current Frost people for the debts of half a century ago, everyone is still happy to see the authorities of that city-state in distress.”
Tyrian raised an eyebrow, “Watching the show? If this matter is indeed related to the original Abyss Plan, then it’s not just a show anymore.”
“You’re right, I understand that, but for now, most ordinary sailors are just enjoying the fun. Let’s talk about other things when the fun gets too big,” Aiden said, spreading his hands, “Can’t help it, that’s the mentality of the undead, especially when it comes to Frost.”
Tyrian silently looked at Aiden, and after a long while, he helplessly waved his hand.
“…True resurrection involves passing through Bartok’s gate and returning, and in Frost, the mainstream belief centers around the god of death. Theoretically, the rules of life and death in Frost should be stricter and more stable. The rumors of the dead returning there are quite suspicious,” he didn’t continue to argue with his first mate about whether it was appropriate to “watch the excitement” but instead put on a serious face and steered the conversation back to a more serious tone. “I’m more inclined to think that some other supernatural force is at work.”
“We’ll have to see how the local Silent Cathedral reacts,” Aiden said, “I heard that the current gatekeeper of the cathedral is a newcomer named Agatha, a young inexperienced girl. I don’t know if she can handle this kind of trouble.”
Tyrian didn’t speak, but for some reason, he suddenly thought of another young, strong, and powerful high priest who had calmly dealt with his fearsome father multiple times.
Inquisitor Vanna of Pland.
If it were that formidable and somewhat terrifying inquisitor… surely handling a few minor resurrection issues wouldn’t be a problem.
…
The slightly salty sea breeze blew head-on, carrying a chill that was absent in the central sea.
Vanna sat on a wooden barrel near the ship’s side, gazing up at the endless sea horizon, and saw a faint mist at the edge of her vision, with distant, hazy icebergs hidden deep within the mist.
The Vanished had already entered the Cold Sea, far, far away from Pland.
The young inquisitor lowered her head and continued carving the wooden piece with a small knife.
She was crafting new wave amulets from sea breath wood.
Life on the Vanished was actually much better than she had initially imagined. None of the frightening or bizarre occurrences had happened. There were normal routines, decent food, clean and private living spaces, and noisy but interesting fellow crew members. From some perspectives, the living conditions on the Vanished were even better than those on ordinary ocean-going ships—
Thanks to Ai, the “messenger,” the ship could always replenish fresh supplies, and with plenty of “living” facilities on board, the Vanished hardly experienced any inconvenience due to equipment failures. However, the ship’s biggest advantage was not even this; its biggest advantage… was safety.
Yes, safety. It was incredible, but after living here for a few days, Vanna finally confirmed this unbelievable reality: No ship could be safer than this dreaded ghost ship.
Because of Captain Duncan’s presence, even intruders from subspace didn’t dare to cause trouble on this ship…
On the Vanished, one could freely discuss subspace matters, read any books, and Morris had Ai bring a large number of folklore and history books from Pland that took hours to read. To speed up the journey, the captain would sometimes even let the Vanished sink into the spirit world and sail at full speed in that dark and terrifying abnormal sea.
There wouldn’t be any deep shadows coming out—even if something really did emerge, it would just become the crew’s daily entertainment.
Or an extra meal.
In summary, life on the Vanished was not bad at all.
But she still needed some time to adjust.
The small knife slid across the wood, carving deep grooves, and the wood shavings fell off bit by bit, gradually calming her restless emotions.
Footsteps approached from behind, and an energetic voice suddenly sounded beside her, “Miss Vanna, what are you doing?”
Vanna looked up and saw Nina curiously examining the half-carved amulet in her hand and the several finished amulets on the nearby wooden barrel.
“This is an amulet dedicated to the storm goddess Gomona,” Vanna smiled, aware of the astonishing identity of the seemingly ordinary girl in front of her, but after a few days of interaction, she was no longer surprised by the identities of any crew members on the ship. “Throwing a sea breath wood amulet into the sea is like making an offering to the goddess.”
“Oh!” Nina nodded in sudden realization, looking amazed at the finished amulets on the wooden barrel, “I think I heard about this in school, but this is the first time I’ve seen it. You made so many!”
“Actually…” Vanna hesitated to speak, then looked into Nina’s sparkling eyes and slowly opened the barrel lid, “There are more than just these.”
Nina stared blankly, peeked into the barrel, and continued to be stunned.
After a moment, she looked up at the inquisitor in front of her.
“Miss Vanna… are you really bored on the ship?”
“Not really,” Vanna said with an awkward expression, feeling that carving a barrel of amulets in just a few days seemed a bit excessive, “It’s just that… I might need a little more time to adjust.”
“Oh.”
Nina nodded, then squatted next to the barrel, lost in thought.
Vanna didn’t know what she was thinking.
Vanna put down a new wave amulet and quietly put away the small knife.
“Miss Vanna, aren’t you carving anymore?”
“…I’ve run out of material.”
“Should we ask Ai to bring some more?”
“No need…” Vanna waved her hand with an awkward expression, but just as she was about to say something else, a strange, deep rumbling sound coming from the sea surface interrupted her words.
It sounded like something was moving under the water, rising rapidly with a large number of bubbles.
A creaking and clattering noise came almost simultaneously from the direction of the Vanished’s mast. The next second, Vanna saw the ghostly sails above the ghost ship adjusting their angles simultaneously while the massive hull adjusted its posture and course.
Nina ran to the side of the ship, her eyes wide as she stared at the distant sea, suddenly pointing and shouting, “Look, look! Miss Vanna! Something is coming out!”
Vanna looked in the direction Nina was pointing.
She saw a large area of rising waves and foam, with irregular, chaotic currents rising like small hills in the distance and a huge shadow gradually emerging from the water among the currents and foam.
A towering flagpole, a rusty bow, a chimney, and a damaged and tattered deck…
It was a ship.
