Chapter 188 “The Crazy Man”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
The pieces of the puzzle are finally falling into place.
In the annals of Pland, there are indications of historical pollution, suggesting a tampering with the past. Within the chapel of the Sixth District, one can detect warped and sealed junctions in space-time. And concealed within the statue of the Storm Goddess lies a rift in subspace…
Shirley had vivid memories of the devastating fire that happened years ago. Like others, she should have perished in the inferno. Yet, in a miraculous turn of events, she merged with a shadowy dark hound, granting her life. This fusion shielded her from the effects of the historical contamination, allowing her to retain her true memories.
In recent times, a faction known as the Enders have targeted Shirley, believing that she’s a loophole that needs to be “corrected”.
Duncan, however, remained skeptical of the Enders’ claims. He feigned interest in their tales of “correcting history”, but only to draw more intel from them. One fact stood clear to him – these zealous Enders were responsible for distorting the true course of history.
Yet, a plethora of questions remained unanswered.
How did the Enders stumble upon Shirley’s unique existence?
How does the phenomenon of historical pollution relate to the enigmatic Black Sun? What significance did the deity of the sun hold in this intricate web of events?
Of utmost concern to Duncan…
Would Nina, who is believed to possess a fragment of the sun, become a target of these relentless zealots?
Duncan, with a steely gaze, observed the trio of fanatic Enders. With a simple gesture, he summoned a green flame that consumed one of them. The cultist, being a being beyond normality, writhed in excruciating pain. The sight immediately subdued the other two cultists.
“Fire… sacrilegious fire…” The cultist’s eyes bulged in sheer madness. For the first time, this devotee of subspace tasted genuine fear. “Sacrilege, utter sacrilege!”
“If you wish to be spared from this fire, then heed my questions,” Duncan declared, summoning flames that swirled around, forming a fiery cage entrapping the three. “Tell me, how did you manipulate history? Was the origin hailing from the Sixth District?”
Determined to defend their beliefs even in the face of dread, one of the Enders defiantly proclaimed, “We are the restorers of true history!” Despite their palpable fear of the spectral flames, they retorted, “The Sixth District… was merely a botched endeavor. It’s inconsequential…”
This revelation, albeit indirect, provided Duncan with crucial insight, even as his suspicion deepened.
To start, Duncan pieced together the crucial fact that the devastating fire from years ago was orchestrated by this band of subspace zealots. It wasn’t merely a random fire triggered by the sun fragment, as he initially believed. Additionally, it became evident that these cultists’ endeavors to taint history hadn’t quite panned out as they had hoped or didn’t achieve the comprehensive outcome they had envisaged.
A particular year resonated in his mind – 1885.
Vanna had uncovered this year marked beneath the chapel, which alluded to the time when a nun met her demise in combat. Logic dictated that this was also the year when the church had faced an assault from these subspace entities.
Subsequently, there was the infamous fire of 1889. Analyzing the timeline, a four-year interval was evident between the initial distortion in history and the fire’s emergence. It had taken the Enders this span to orchestrate what they later deemed a “botched attempt.”
Duncan felt the fog lifting, the pieces of history beginning to interlock and present a clearer image.
“You’ve faltered not once but twice,” Duncan mused aloud, his eyes fixed intently on the Ender writhing under the ethereal flames. “In 1885, your sect breached the chapel, aiming to use it as a focal point to diffuse the corruption throughout history. Yet, a brave nun thwarted your scheme, sacrificing herself. In doing so, she entombed both the events of that year’s ‘incursion’ and her own tragic ‘demise’ in the underground chapel.”
“Fast forward to 1889, you set in motion another strategy to raze the Sixth District where the chapel stood, aiming to overlay reality with an alternate history where the city-state was consumed in a gargantuan blaze. But yet again, your designs were thwarted. An unforeseen force nullified that reality. The flames ceased to spread further…”
“Then you’ve skulked in the city shadows ever since, biding your time, waiting for the perfect moment to resume your devious mission until you stumbled upon Shirley’s anomaly. In your minds, the glitches in your past schemes were inextricably linked to her miraculous survival. So, eliminating this ‘latent threat’ was your foremost priority, wasn’t it?”
Instead of defending himself or retaliating against Duncan’s assertions, the Ender, even while being tormented by the flames, mustered a chilling smirk.
Duncan, unperturbed, declared, “Your silence speaks volumes. The loathing in your gaze only affirms the accuracy of my deductions.” He continued composedly, “Now, onto the pressing matter. What ties you to the ‘Black Sun’? The 1889 blaze was instigated by a shard of the sun… Did your sect craft that fragment?”
The Ender chose to remain reticent, offering no clarifications.
Duncan’s resolve intensified, and he extended his ethereal flames, letting them dance upon the other two Enders. They twisted and contorted, clearly distressed by a pain so potent it seemed to scorch their very souls.
“If silence is your only answer, then I must speculate,” Duncan remarked with an exhalation, motioning with his hand to dissipate the searing flames. He surmised that merely tormenting them would bear no fruit; these subspace zealots had transcended human boundaries, which meant they no longer perceived pain in conventional terms. “I surmise that you have some alliance with the Suntists… Or perhaps, it’s a joint endeavor with the inheritors of the sun? Did they offer your sect some form of compensation for this unholy alliance?”
He paused, scanning their faces for any hint of confirmation but was met with only stony silence. He pressed on, “In the nascent eras of the city-state’s chronology, there’s mention of a forgotten city-state. Its mere existence is only commemorated on the Flame Bearer’s Pillar. You’ve summoned the black sun from the annals of history in that realm and succeeded… So, the key to beckoning it is to adulterate history, isn’t it?”
As Duncan pieced together the puzzle with his prodigious memory and intellect, he started to perceive the intricate patterns. Once puzzling elements now appeared to be tangible facts. Duncan felt a growing confidence that he was drawing nearer to unveiling the entire narrative.
Commanding the ghostly flames to amass, he crafted a fiery ring, entrapping the three cultists. He towered above them, his gaze filled with vehemence.
“Your presence in the city-state isn’t limited to just you three. Where have the others taken refuge? What’s your next course of action? Do you intend to eradicate more of these so-called ‘loopholes’? Or are you merely biding your time, waiting for the opportune moment to release further historical contamination?”
Receiving no answer, Duncan’s queries continued to flow, and eventually, one cultist succumbed. With his gaunt frame, the fanatic slowly contorted his face into a grotesque smile, his words dripping with malice: “We doon’t hidee in the sso-called ccity-statee… We llinger in this accursed, warped, long-overdue histtory… Oncce it commences, it will nevver cease… What the Flame Bearers cannot achieve, you too are powerless, ‘Mr. Captain’…”
The derision in his smile deepened as he taunted, “Just now, I observed it – your unmistakable humanity. Wherever did you acquire it?”
Duncan’s expression darkened, his fury palpable as he stepped forward, demanding, “Explain yourself.”
“…Farewell, Mr. Captain,” the Ender replied, his demeanor shifting from unhinged zealot to one eerily composed. “Ah… The Fabled Realm, the Sacred Ark…”
He’s talking about the transmigration right?
A suggestion for style- The various guys and “You guys” would look much better as people and “You people.” Calling them guys seems childish and subtracts the seriousness and other aspects of the mood. That’s just my inclination, though.
i think real captain was corrupted and his final struggle was to pick up a soul from deep history like our timeline to replace his humanity which lost to corruption. im guessing this is the same world as earth then