Lucretia was deeply impressed with Duncan’s approach, which could be likened to “casting a wide net to catch a grand prize.” It wasn’t that she actively opposed the direct and assertive strategy her father and Vanna had proposed; she just never really advocated for it.
She didn’t hold any negative feelings towards athletes. However, her main worry stemmed from her observations of Dog, particularly his evident sensitivity and trepidation towards the “Soulfire”. Seeing how swiftly the shadow demon took its own life, she believed that a straightforward approach might fail to capture even one demon alive.
“Those cult members are planning to meet before dusk. I’ll ask Rabbi to gather some intel,” Lucretia mused. “But the major challenge is that a ‘Saint’ from their sect is on that ship. This means Rabbi can only watch discreetly and not intervene. Any significant action might alert this ‘Saint’.”
Duncan, intrigued, queried, “Saint? I’m aware of the Saints from the Four Deities. I hold Vanna’s combat skills in high regard, but what is so different about the Saints of the Annihilation Sect?”
His puzzlement was understandable. The Saints of the Four Deities are those chosen by the gods. While many possess incredible fighting skills, their primary distinguishing feature is their direct line of communication with the deities. Unlike regular priests who need complex rituals and offerings to faintly connect with the gods, Saints can often converse with their divine entities effortlessly, sometimes through mere sincere prayers. In dire situations, their affiliated god might even spontaneously communicate with them, providing cautionary advice.
In essence, these Saints are almost akin to being the offspring of the gods.
However, Duncan recognized that the “Saints” of the Annihilation Sect couldn’t possibly operate in this manner. He was aware of the Nether Lord’s standpoint. The way this entity viewed its so-called “devotees” was evident. Duncan surmised from the mere suggestion of “seizing a few disciples of the Annihilation to experiment on,” that if a real Saint from these cultists could link with the “divine intent,” they might be summoned by their god on the day they attain their title – only to be brutally punished in a deep chasm.
Lucretia clarified further, “The Annihilation Sect disciples perceive the elusive demons as beings nearly synonymous with the ‘Original Blueprint,’ pure entities. Consequently, they incessantly tap into the demon’s energy, striving to emulate this ‘Original Blueprint.’ By doing this, they access even more potent abilities. Vanna had once shared her encounter with senior priests of the Annihilation in the land of Frost who were nearly fused with these elusive demons. These ‘Saints’… they surpass even that level.”
Lucretia painted a vivid picture, “These individuals have undergone such profound transformations that they scarcely resemble humans anymore. Their appearance and behavior align more with demons than with humanity. They act in ways that mirror these elusive demons, deriving their strength straight from the dark chasms of the Abyssal Depths. Although they’ve retained the cognitive faculties of humans, at their core, they’ve become ‘Abyssal entities’. These so-called ‘Saints’ from the Annihilation Sect have the rare ability to freely navigate the abyssal depths, termed the Eternal Paradise in their codex. It’s perhaps only the faint remnants of their once-human essence that keeps them anchored to our realm. But the disciples of the Annihilation Sect aren’t truly blessed by a deity’s favor. However, their alliances and pacts with demons endow them with staggering power. These ‘Saints’ stand as prime examples – they are powerhouses of sheer might, unwavering determination, and are versed in numerous proscribed dark arts. Against such entities, Rabbi would be utterly outmatched.”
Duncan was engrossed in Lucretia’s detailed revelations of these mystifying entities. A burning question emerged, “How would they fare against Vanna?”
There was a momentary pause as Lucretia seemed lost in contemplation. After a while, she responded, “Comparing Miss Vanna’s capabilities, even with other Saints, is a complex task. She possesses a ‘distinct’ caliber of combat expertise.”
Duncan, grasping her meaning, nodded affirmatively, “I understand your point.”
Lucretia’s gaze deepened, hinting at another concerning matter. “There’s also another situation unfolding.”
Duncan’s voice echoed from the mirror, urging her to continue, “Tell me.”
Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Lucretia began, “Tyrian conveyed a message. In the city of Frost, there’ve been three instances of the ‘Slumbering Illness.’ Elves are being affected, exhibiting symptoms reminiscent of…”
She was abruptly cut off by Duncan’s voice from the mirror, “You mean the symptoms mirror those of that elven girl named ‘Floti’ from Pland and the earlier condition that plagued Taran El? However, now, interventions like hypnosis and dream therapy administered by psychic healers have failed. The affected individuals’ dream worlds have transformed into vast emptinesses, their consciousness seemingly swallowed up.”
Startled, Lucretia looked at the mirror, “How did you learn about the Pland situation?”
She quickly grasped the wider implications.
Duncan’s reflection confirmed her suspicions, “Before our conversation, Heidi updated me about four similar cases. They too involve elves trapped in an endless sleep. If my assumptions are correct, Pland and Frost might not be isolated incidents. In the coming days, or even hours, we might hear of similar cases emerging from other city-states reaching Wind Harbor.”
Lucretia’s expression grew somber. She took a moment, then slowly recalled ancient tales passed down by Taran El. In a soft, contemplative voice, she murmured, “All elves… they are the descendants and bearers of the legacy of Atlantis…”
In a world where legends mirror some aspects of reality, there are tales that hold kernels of truth. One such legend speaks of the powerful Atlantis, which seems to be the keystone that holds the entire elven race together, much like how bees function in a hive. “In essence, it might be that on a deeper, spiritual level, every elf is interconnected as one entity,” Duncan began, explaining slowly and deliberately. “This intrinsic bond has been latent for countless ages. However, it seems that an ancient phenomenon known as the Dream of the Nameless One has stirred and rekindled this connection.”
Pondering on this, Lucretia echoed, “A hive… A spiritual network…” She knit her brows, grappling with the concepts and trying to piece together the puzzle. “So, are you suggesting that this Dream of the Nameless One is now spreading among the elves? And that the events in Wind Harbor are just the beginning?”
Duncan nodded thoughtfully, “Yes, ‘epicenter’ would be a more apt term – the initial point of its manifestation. The true enigma we face is understanding why it has awakened here. What triggered the Dream of the Nameless One?”
“Why indeed?”
In a dramatic pause, Duncan’s voice emanated once more from the enchanted mirror, “Two pivotal events transpired just before the onset of the Dream of the Nameless One. Initially, the sun mysteriously went dark, casting the vast Boundless Sea into an eerie shadow. During this period, every city-state – bar Pland, Frost, and Wind Harbor – was deprived of twelve hours of sunlight. Secondly, the ‘Vanished’ appeared close to Wind Harbor after journeying across the Boundless Sea.”
Understanding dawned on Lucretia as she connected the dots. “The sun’s disappearance might have reactivated this dormant Dream of the Nameless One within the elven race. And with the ‘Vanished’ drawing close, it designated Wind Harbor as the focal point, or the ‘epicenter’…”
Duncan offered a nod of agreement, “I had thought of the former, but the latter is a new theory that’s just crystallized in my mind.”
Pausing briefly, Lucretia mused, “If the ‘Vanished’ were to distance itself from Wind Harbor, could that potentially stall or even reverse the Dream of the Nameless One’s progression?”
“The ‘Vanished’ has already started to move away.”
Duncan was inside the captain’s cabin of the vessel. As he looked out, a dramatic, tumultuous scene met his eyes. Dark storm clouds covered the horizon, and the deep black sea rhythmically rose and fell. A pervasive mist created a greyscale vision, punctuated by the appearance and disappearance of eerie, shape-shifting shadows that lurked on the periphery.
“We’ve set the ‘Vanished’ on a full-throttle journey, steering it northward from Wind Harbor, traversing the profound depths of the spirit realm,” Duncan explained. “I’m planning to conduct an array of experiments, such as altering our coordinates, delving deeper into the spirit dimension, and even attempting to transform the entire vessel into a spiritual form. All these endeavors are to gauge the impact on the Dream of the Nameless One.”
Finishing his narration, Duncan pulled his attention from the haunting exterior, turning towards the magical mirror that stood beside him.
“Nevertheless,” Duncan began, adopting a tone that conveyed both conviction and doubt, “I have reasons to believe that our actions might not halt the expansion of the Dream of the Nameless One. From the intelligence gathered from multiple city-states, it’s clear that this ‘dream realm’ isn’t limited by physical distance. It directly influences each and every elf. While the waning sun and the maneuvers of the ‘Vanished’ might have set things in motion, they don’t appear to be the continuous drivers of this dream. At its core, the dream is fueled by the inherent essence of the elven race itself.”
He continued, “Still, I’ve decided to conduct a series of experiments on this artifact, the ‘goat head.’ I believe its unique properties might hold the key to controlling or even altering the Dream of the Nameless One. Numerous clues hint towards its significance. Notably, my current ‘First Mate’ is no ordinary being — he’s the ancient creator deity from elven folklore.”
Lucretia, whose image shimmered in the mirror, looked genuinely shocked. “Hold on a second. Didn’t you say the goat head from that parallel version of the ‘Vanished’ informed you that Saslokha, the deity, had met his end ages ago?”
Duncan, with a hint of a smile, gently shook his head. “Can the existence of a deity truly be defined by our concepts of life and death? To put it another way, aboard the ‘Vanished,’ there are several individuals who have, by common understanding, already ‘died’ once.”
Visibly taken aback, Lucretia momentarily fumbled for a response. Eventually, she chose to shift the conversation, “Regarding Wind Harbor…”
“I, or rather, a version of myself, will remain aboard the ‘Vanished’ as we distance ourselves from the city-state,” Duncan explained. “It’s a crucial component of my research. That said, Vanna and Morris will stay back in the city to monitor developments regarding the Dream of the Nameless One. Even if I’m not physically present, my abilities can still be channeled to the city via this magical mirror. Reach out whenever you sense danger.”
Acknowledging this, Lucretia paused before cautiously bringing up another matter. “For Ai to ‘teleport’ across great distances, you need to set up a marker using one of your ‘avatars,’ right?”
Catching her concerned gaze in the mirror, Duncan nodded. “Precisely. Do you foresee any issues?”
Lucretia replied with caution, “It’s just that when the ‘Vanished’ was anchored near Wind Harbor, you and your followers had the liberty to commute freely between the ship and the city. Now that you’re moving away, you’re restricted to transmitting your power solely through this mirror. Ever thought about stationing one of your ‘avatars’ permanently in Wind Harbor?”
Thoughtfully, Duncan responded, “Your suggestion holds merit, but creating my avatars requires certain… resources. I’d rather not create more unless absolutely necessary.”
A mix of disappointment and relief crossed Lucretia’s face as she replied softly, “Understood, Dad.”
