Deep Sea Embers chapter 201

Chapter 201: “Penetration”

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

The horizon blazed with an all-consuming fire, swallowing everything in its path—buildings, trees, even the sacred grounds of the church. The entire city was transformed into a nightmarish landscape, painted with brilliant hues of red and orange.

Amidst the inferno stood Vanna, a formidable warrior with an imposing stance. In her right hand, she held a finely crafted sword, its blade reflecting the firelight. In her left, she wielded a machine gun, a trophy she had claimed from a defeated mechanical spiderwalker. This combination of old and new symbolized her readiness to combat any foe, regardless of the era.

The scalding gusts of wind blowing across the church’s courtyard stung Vanna’s nostrils with every inhale. But even the intense heat couldn’t dull her senses. Like a hawk watching over its territory, she scanned the area diligently for any signs of heresy or adversaries linked to the twisted history that led to Pland’s doom.

The origins of this catastrophe traced back to the year 1889. A seemingly insignificant spark, overlooked by the vigilant Storm Goddess, had grown into this uncontrollable blaze. Vanna, ever the pragmatic warrior, often preferred straightforward battles but never shrank from intricate challenges.

“Where could these heretics be hiding…?”

From the looming shadows of a nearby structure, a soft, menacing murmur emerged, carrying an aura of pure evil and sacrilege, distorting the fiery ambiance into an eerie illusion. But Vanna wasn’t distracted. Without turning her head, she aimed her machine gun at an indistinct spot and fired.

The sound was deafening. Spent bullet casings erupted from the gun and fell like metallic rain. What had once been concealed in the thin line between light and darkness now had no choice but to reveal itself. It defended with a dark umbrella and squirming tentacles.

Satisfied with her proactive assault, Vanna hurled her massive sword, pinning the creature to the ground from a distance. But she wasn’t finished. Seizing a twisted lamppost, she swung it with tremendous force.

Another concealed foe had been lurking nearby. It was no match for Vanna’s brute strength and was crushed beneath her blow. Its remains quivered, seemingly trying to reform. But Vanna was relentless. Swapping the clip of her machine gun, she rained down bullets, ensuring the creature’s end.

“Sneak attacks in pairs? That’s the best you can do?” Vanna remarked, discarding the lamppost, now grotesquely bent from her powerful swing.

She then called forth her storm-infused blade and prepared to strike again. But something was amiss; the malformed entity showed no signs of life or retaliation.

She stepped forward cautiously, her brow furrowing in puzzlement. “No signs of regeneration?” Vanna muttered to herself, leaning in to inspect the creature closely. She noticed that it wasn’t just motionless but actively withering, shriveling up like an old, discarded fruit left out in the sun.

“Why is this happening?” Vanna pondered aloud, her mind racing. “Could it be that these minions are losing their regenerative abilities because their primary source of power is weakened? Or perhaps they’ve been forsaken and left to perish?”

While she grappled with these questions, her sharp instincts sensed another change in her surroundings. She abruptly looked up, her gaze locking onto a distant point.

Emerging from the shadows, a stream of ethereal green flames began to manifest. The flames, seemingly possessing a life of their own, quickly coalesced and started to spread across the open square. They moved with a predatory grace, reminiscent of a beast scavenging for its meal. To Vanna’s shock, the flames seemed to feast upon the remains of the fallen creatures, consuming them entirely.

“Burning, consuming, and then expanding,” she thought, trying to make sense of this new anomaly. Despite her initial apprehensions, Vanna realized that these green flames appeared indifferent to her, as if she were invisible to them. Just as suddenly as they had appeared, the sweeping tide of green fire traversed the square and vanished, leaving Vanna once again alone in the fiery landscape.

……

The skies opened with a vengeance, and relentless raindrops thundered down, engulfing the city in an atmosphere of secrecy and foreboding. Every corner and crevice of the urban landscape felt like a part of an age-old, clandestine plot unfolding. Even as the unyielding rain fell, Morris’s destiny played its hand—his trusted vehicle sputtered and gave out, its engine dying in protest.

Morris, a seasoned scholar, understood immediately that any attempt to revive his car would be in vain. This wasn’t merely a mechanical issue; it felt like an unseen force was preventing him from moving forward. The Ender’s decree made it clear: the malevolent spell or “curse” upon him wouldn’t permit the vehicle’s repair.

However, Morris was wise enough to recognize the limitations of this so-called “curse.” It wasn’t omnipotent. At its core, the curse could only manipulate or influence events to a certain extent.

With a resigned sigh, Morris pushed open his car door, steeling himself against the deluge awaiting him outside. The moment he stepped out, he was met with a barrage of raindrops, soaking him to the bone. The gusts of wind threatened to topple him over, making even standing upright a monumental task.

But Morris wasn’t one to be easily discouraged. Holding onto his hat with one hand and gripping his coat with the other, he began his determined march through the tempestuous downpour.

The thought of seeking shelter under an umbrella crossed his mind, but it seemed futile given the storm’s intensity, especially when he was so close to his destination. Squinting through the sheets of rain, he could just make out the blurry signage of the shop not far away.

As Morris pushed forward, it felt as if the universe itself was relenting. The gales that once buffeted him began to ease, and the raindrops felt less piercing on his skin. The biting cold that had numbed him was no longer overpowering.

Encouraging himself silently, Morris felt a newfound energy propelling him forward. However, just as he was about to close the distance to the shop, a series of chilling whispers reached his ears.

“Beware, for ahead lies not salvation but doom!”

“Pland is on the verge of being consumed by an even greater disaster!”

“History is shifting, Morris. You’re trying to protect a distorted reality, a mere echo of what once was…”

Despite the eerie warnings, Morris felt an inexplicable urge to move even faster. As he neared the shop’s entrance, the ominous aura clinging to him began to fade, evaporating as if repelled by the potent presence within the establishment.

The sudden relief was so overwhelming that Morris stumbled, tripping over the threshold into the store. As he gathered his bearings, the muffled chatter of two girls conversing somewhere above reached his ears.

Shirley commented, “Such a downpour outside!”

Nina exclaimed, “I know, right? The storm hit out of nowhere! I’m so glad I heeded Uncle’s advice and returned early. Oh, look at the state of my hair… It’s all drenched! Shirley, could you help dry my back?”

In the background, Morris tried to regain his composure, the warmth of the store interior contrasting starkly with the cold rain he had just come from. As he shook off the water, his eyes were drawn to a striking figure seated behind the counter. A woman with golden locks, donning a mesmerizing purple dress, looked at him with intrigue.

At first glance, Morris was taken by her beauty. But it wasn’t just her physical appearance that held his gaze; it was the air of elegance and mystery surrounding her. In all his years in the elite circles of Pland, he had never encountered someone who possessed such a unique aura.

For a brief moment, Morris felt like he was being pulled into a daydream. He envisioned the woman not in the shop but in a lush garden surrounded by blooming flowers. He shook his head, realizing the absurdity of his thoughts. An even stranger idea crossed his mind: could she possibly be something other than human? He quickly dismissed it. After all, this was Mr. Duncan’s antique shop. Who Mr. Duncan chose to employ wasn’t Morris’s business.

Breaking him from his thoughts, a gentle voice came from across the counter, “Sir, you’re soaked! Do you need assistance?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Duncan,” Morris replied, a touch flustered by the interruption. “It’s of utmost importance that I meet with him. Is he around?”

“Yes, he’s here,” the ethereal woman replied with a graceful smile, “but he’s currently resting upstairs. He mentioned something about his blood pressure being a bit elevated.”

Morris’s eyes widened in concern. “Blood pressure? Elevated?”

The blonde woman looked equally perplexed. “I’m not entirely sure what transpired. We were having a conversation about historical artifacts and potential forgeries when he suddenly seemed quite distressed.”

“Artifacts and forgeries?” Morris felt a sudden sense of urgency.

Before he could press further, a familiar voice echoed from the staircase, “Alice, who’s visiting?”

“Ah, Mr. Duncan! It’s a gentleman I’ve not seen before!”

Looking towards the sound, Morris saw Duncan emerging from the shadows of the staircase, bathed in a mix of light and darkness.