Chapter 205 “Acceleration”

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

Morris was seated on the first floor of the quaint antique shop, his fingers drumming anxiously on the armrest. The weight of time seemed to press down heavily on him, each second dripping with palpable tension.

Outside, the rain continued its relentless assault, the heavy droplets crashing against the rooftops and windows. A sharp, cold wind added to the desolate atmosphere, creating an eerie whistle as it blew against the shop’s brick walls.

In addition, Nina and Shirley appeared particularly distressed as they made their way downstairs, heeding the words of Duncan. Both young women kept stealing glances out of the window, the increasing darkness outside turning the streets into an almost impenetrable void. The outlines of the nearby buildings were barely visible, and discerning whether there were any pedestrians was nearly impossible.

Interrupting the heavy silence, Alice suddenly chimed in, “The city is truly mesmerizing.” Her unexpected remark pierced the somber mood, infusing a bit of levity into the tense room. “Yet, I sense a certain unease in all of you. What’s the matter? Has something scared you?”

Taken aback by Alice’s upbeat demeanor, Nina responded with a mix of surprise and incredulity, “Miss Alice, how can you be so carefree at a time like this?”

Chuckling softly, Alice replied, “Oh, I find this all rather exhilarating.” She offered a gentle, reassuring smile. “Besides, if any issue arises, I’m confident Mr. Duncan will address it.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nina pressed on, “So, you’re saying you have an inkling about what’s happening? You seem… quite fond of my uncle?”

Alice nodded confidently, “I trust him, indeed. Although I’m in the dark about the current situation, I believe in Mr. Duncan’s ability to resolve any problem.”

Nina was left momentarily speechless by Alice’s unwavering calm and confidence. A heavy silence returned to the room, only to be broken by a thunderous boom, which jolted everyone present. Both Shirley and Nina instinctively recoiled, their hands flying to their ears in fright.

Morris, eyes fixed on the scene outside, whispered, “Vanna has returned…” Realizing the gravity of the situation, he exclaimed more audibly, “Vanna is back!”

Shirley’s eyes widened in shock, “The inquisitor? What could possibly be amiss with her? Why do you sound so alarmed about her return?”

Morris hesitated, struggling to find the right words. He released a heavy sigh and slumped into the closest chair, weariness evident in his posture. The day had been taxing, to say the least. Yet, amidst the tumult of his jumbled memories, Morris sensed a glimmer of hope on the horizon, a hint that the gloomy day would soon give way to brighter times.

……

The once shimmering green barrier began to wane, restoring the shadowy underground sanctum to its original dimness. Duncan’s sole source of illumination now came from the final wisp of flame that hovered next to him, casting an ethereal glow on his surroundings.

Vanna had departed from “this realm” and ventured back behind the veil that separated the two worlds. Duncan could discern her absence through the distinct luminescence of the beacon he had placed on the inquisitor.

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Duncan whispered to himself, “That leaping attack of hers is truly formidable.” He then turned on his heels and confidently approached the sealed entrance of the subterranean chamber.

This place bore witness to significant historical events, and despite Vanna’s interference, the perpetual cycle remained unbroken. Though she was a force to be reckoned with, especially when it came to vanquishing heretics, she lacked the proficiency required to mend the rifts in the fabric of time and space.

Duncan paused beside the seemingly lifeless body of the young nun. Slowly, he reached out his hand but halted abruptly when the nun stirred. With a feeble effort, she lifted her head, her fading eyes filled with bewilderment.

Realization dawned on Duncan, “Ah, as I had deduced earlier, you weren’t truly dead when you were propping up that door.” He met her wavering gaze and asked gently, “Is there something on your mind?”

The nun replied faintly, “I had a fleeting vision. A warrior priestess stood beside me, attempting to free me from this relentless loop. She was indeed here, wasn’t she?”

Duncan nodded, “She gave it her best effort. But such tasks are beyond her expertise. She’s returned to her domain.” Tenderly, he rested his hand on the nun’s longsword, allowing his phantom flame to gracefully trace its length and envelop both the sword and its bearer. “Let me handle things from here.”

In her final moments, the nun asked weakly, “Are you one of the city’s guardians? I don’t recall ever seeing you.”

“I’m not,” Duncan replied, shaking his head softly, “but for now, I can assume that role.”

The nun’s attention seemed to wane as the last remnants of life ebbed away from her. She was on the cusp of a new journey, a journey to the hereafter.

“Please bear witness to my tale…” These were the final words spoken by this devout servant of the tempest.

“I bear witness.”

With a determined gesture, Duncan released a flurry of green flames, which surged upwards and engrossed the entirety of the underground chamber in a blazing vortex of energy. Every curse and anomaly present would be obliterated, freeing any souls ensnared within this confinement. In this moment, everything yielded to the unyielding will of the ghostly captain.

With meticulous patience, Duncan observed as every last vestige of malevolence was eradicated from the chamber. Only when he was certain of its purification did he ascend to the main level of the chapel.

For the first time in nearly four decades, since the year 1885, the door to the underground sanctuary was pushed open from the inside. As he emerged into the prayer hall, it was evident that the traces of its once solemn past had been erased. Gone were the ethereal apparitions of nuns deep in prayer, the soft flicker of candlelight, and the rows of benches which once accommodated faithful worshippers. Instead, the chapel bore a look of desolation – its stained glass windows shattered, the once magnificent main hall now reduced to rubble and debris.

Duncan had not only cleansed the chapel of its malefic curse but had also asserted his dominion over it. However, he had no desire to claim it as his own. Stepping outside, the spectral captain cast a final, lingering glance at the structure. Within moments, the chapel was consumed by a ravenous inferno, an all-consuming fire that would finally lay to rest the memories and spirits bound to this forsaken piece of land.

His work here was complete. There was nothing more he could do for the chapel’s solitary guardian.

Squinting slightly, Duncan expanded his awareness, establishing a connection with each cluster of flames dispersed throughout the city. These flames, sensing the presence of their master, responded with vigor. Their once subtle luminescence intensified, transforming them from tiny embers into blazing beacons that illuminated this shrouded realm.

As these flames blazed brighter, Duncan felt a stirring deep within the fabric of this distorted reality. A resounding roar echoed, accompanied by a surge of ash and a torrent of crimson flames. While the display might have been awe-inspiring to some, Duncan remained unfazed. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he perceived the delayed retaliation to his actions.

With a smirk, he mused aloud, “Choosing to act only now? A tad tardy, wouldn’t you agree?”

……

Aboard the Vanished, Duncan forcefully swung open the door to the captain’s quarters. With determined strides, he made his way to the navigational table that dominated the center of the room. Glancing at the blinking dot representing their ship’s position, he inquired in a voice deep with authority, “How much longer until we reach Pland?”

“Captain,” replied the entity known as Goathead immediately, “we’re less than two days from our destination. Given our current trajectory, we might encounter merchant vessels or patrols from the surrounding islands anytime now…”

Though Goathead continued with his report, Duncan seemed lost in thought, his mind rapidly processing potential strategies and scenarios. After a moment, he rose to his full stature and exited the captain’s quarters.

Goathead’s voice, tinged with a hint of concern, echoed after him, “What’s your next move, Captain?” But the question was left hanging as the door snapped shut behind Duncan.

Duncan’s coming path was swift and resolute. He traversed the aft deck, ascended the stairs, and arrived at the ship’s helm in mere moments. Then responding to Goathead through their shared mental bond, he declared, “I’ll be taking the helm personally.”

There was a brief pause before Goathead responded with an enthusiastic cry, “Understood, Captain!”

As Duncan gripped the steering wheel, a palpable surge of energy flowed through him. The Vanished resonated with his touch, its very structure humming to life with even greater vigor than before.

Almost instantaneously, the ship’s sails transformed into a translucent membrane, the ropes and riggings began to pulsate with vitality, and the wooden hull groaned and strained, buoyed by the force of the surging waves. A tangible aura enveloped the ship, propelling it forward with an almost magical power.

Their speed was astonishing. The ship sliced through the waters, covering vast distances at an unprecedented rate.

As the distance between the ship and the antique store lessened, Duncan let out a soft breath. But then, a peculiar sensation washed over him – a feeling of being watched and locked onto from a distance.

How could he articulate this uncanny sensation? It was akin to being pinpointed by sonar. The very moment he had seized the helm, it was as if he had inadvertently revealed his position to an unseen adversary due to a mysterious bond they shared.

A frown creased Duncan’s brow as he instinctively looked in the direction from which the eerie feeling emanated.

Almost at that exact moment, Goathead’s voice, filled with urgency, echoed in Duncan’s mind, “Captain, the Sea Mist has materialized nearby.”

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