Chapter 208 “A Verbal Exchange After a Hundred Years”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
In the vast expanse of the Boundless Sea, two mighty warships laden with dark curses were on an imminent collision path. As they drew nearer, the aura and influence surrounding each ship grew more intense, signifying the growing tension and clash of powers that was about to unfold.
The ship named Sea Mist unleashed a frosty aura, producing numerous ice floats of varying sizes across the waters that stretched for several nautical miles. The once tranquil sea began to spiral into a tumultuous whirlpool, clashing and contending with the eerie volcanic green flames emitted by the infamous Vanished. This spectacle was a dazzling dance of fire and ice. However, the awe-inspiring sight was tainted by the ghostly and malevolent energy radiating from both ships.
But looks can be deceiving. The Sea Mist, although appearing formidable on the surface, was on the brink of collapse. The ship’s engines wheezed and groaned in their final moments. Yet, the protective blessings bestowed upon it by the church remained effective.
In this dire predicament, the undead crew aboard the Sea Mist looked on with dread as their ship sped toward the flaming phantom ship, a symbol of pure terror on the open waters. For Tyrian, a crew member of the Sea Mist, this confrontation was not a mere plunge into the jaws of death but a much-anticipated reunion with his long-lost father. He could now discern the silhouette of his father standing tall and commanding at the stern of the Vanished.
The silhouette reminded Tyrian of a steadfast rock amidst a raging storm. The man grasped the ship’s wheel firmly, his face mirroring the same stoic and authoritative demeanor Tyrian remembered from years past.
Then, the inevitable occurred — the two ships collided.
However, the anticipated catastrophic destruction did not materialize. Instead, the crew of the Sea Mist witnessed an uncanny transformation similar to what had once been seen with the merchant ship White Oak. With its blazing green fires, the Vanished rolled over them like a vast burning wave. Within this inferno, the boundaries of reality were distorted, morphing the Sea Mist and its crew into ghostly apparitions. To an onlooker, it would seem as though one specter had merged with another.
Aiden, the First Mate of the Sea Mist, was taken aback. He first saw the front and mast of the Vanished hurtling toward him. In a disoriented state, he found himself walking through the wooden planks and into one of the cabins of the ghost ship. Inside, he was momentarily surrounded by ornate beams and eerie green lanterns before finding himself back on the open deck, now confronted by the fiery vista of the Vanished.
Tyrian, momentarily stunned by the bewildering scene, quickly regained his composure, recalling his father’s enduring lessons from years ago.
“Never retreat or yield to the challenges of the sea!”
With this mantra echoing in his mind, Tyrian held his head up high, facing the tumultuous seas and the challenges that lay ahead.
On the bridge, at strikingly close quarters, Duncan and his son stood, separated by just a few steps. In that moment, the world around them seemed to fall into a profound silence.
“I’m busy,” boomed a voice, regal and resonant, filling the air and the ears of all who heard it.
Tyrian’s eyes snapped open in shock, and he quickly turned towards the source of the voice.
But the fleeting encounter was over almost as soon as it began. The two ghostly ships zoomed past each other at breakneck speed, leaving behind a bewildered undead crew.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the metal-clad battleship began to slow down. The invisible force that had been propelling it forward relented, and control returned to the ship’s helmsman. Thanks to the relentless efforts of the ship’s crew, they managed to shut down the severely compromised engine, though its chances of restarting any time soon seemed slim.
Stunned, Aiden scratched his bald pate, trying to make sense of the situation. “Did… did that ship just sail past us? Weren’t they intent on battling us to the bitter end?”
With palpable fear in his voice, the boatswain chimed in, “…It doesn’t seem like they ever intended to engage us in a fight to the death. They barely reduced their speed, and just… passed right over us.”
The sensation was overwhelming for the crew. One of them remarked, “It was so unnerving. For a split second, I felt as if my heart, long stilled in death, was beating once more.”
While the crew’s buzzing reached Tyrian’s ears, he paid them little mind. The only words ringing in his thoughts were, “I’m busy.” It was what his father had said – cold, emotionless, and not in the least resembling a warm greeting one might expect between family, even one that had been estranged. However, it was undeniably clear and coherent.
“Captain,” First Mate Aiden approached, concern evident in his gaze as he looked at the introspective Tyrian. “What’s our next move?”
Shaken from his reverie, Tyrian responded, “Is the ship still operational?”
“Hardly,” Aiden replied, his shiny bald head reflecting the ambient light. “The engine’s out, and it’ll be some time before we can get it back up and running. Several of our crew were injured during the skirmish. Some of the injuries are so grave that cleaning up will take a whole day’s work.” He paused, his brow furrowing with puzzlement. “But what’s truly bizarre is that those directly hit by the Vanished seem to be fine. Our main guns No. 1 and No. 3 were obliterated, but the crew members manning them emerged relatively unscathed, even after being thrown overboard by the blast…”
“So, if I’m understanding this correctly, the crew members who faced the aftershock of the blast suffered grave injuries, while those directly hit by the cannonballs emerged without a scratch?” Tyrian sought confirmation, his brows furrowing in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”
Aiden hesitated for a moment, then speculated, “Could it be that your father never intended to annihilate us? From the Vanished’s mode of attack, it seems their primary objective was just to halt the Sea Mist in its tracks.”
Tyrian pondered over Aiden’s theory, the implication heavy on his mind. After a tense pause, he instructed, “We need to repair the ship and get it moving as soon as possible. Meanwhile, send an update to Pland, informing them that we tried intercepting the Vanished but were unsuccessful. The ghost ship is now headed their way, and their naval defenses will have to intervene. We’ve played our part.”
Nodding, Aiden moved to execute the orders, but he quickly returned, a trace of panic evident on his face: “Captain! We seem to have lost communication with Pland!”
Tyrian’s worry was palpable. “Is it possible our communication systems were affected during the battle?”
Aiden shook his head, a puzzled look on his face. “No, Captain. We are still receiving signals from the sea patrol hubs, but nothing from Pland or the surrounding island. It’s as if the entire city-state vanished from our communication grid. It’s baffling because, at this range, it shouldn’t be possible. Even the psionic calls from the church aren’t being acknowledged.”
The revelation that even psionic calls went unanswered added another layer of gravity to the situation. A chill ran down Tyrian’s spine. With the Vanished steaming towards that very city-state and communications blacked out, it wasn’t difficult to deduce that something had gone terribly wrong. “Did anyone keep tabs on when our communications went silent?”
Aiden’s eyes darted around, trying to recall, “The last successful communication was during our routine briefing with the port authorities yesterday. Everything was functioning normally at that time.” He hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. “Captain, should we consider diverting course back to Pland?”
A heavy silence settled as Aiden awaited an answer. Finally, Tyrian sighed deeply, his face a mask of determination. “Once the Sea Mist is operational, we set course for Pland.”
Aiden appeared taken aback by the decision, but his loyalty to his captain was unwavering. Standing tall, he saluted and responded with fervor, “Understood, Captain!”
……
As the turbulent waters surrounding them started to regain their placidity, the soothing sound of waves lapping at the ship became more pronounced. Yet, Duncan found himself absentmindedly scratching his ear, still haunted by the piercing reverberations of the cannon fire from their recent encounter. Evidently, the abrupt confrontation had left him slightly disconcerted.
“From the way you steered the ship directly towards the Sea Mist, I was under the impression you intended to have a word with Tyrian. Given the circumstances, it would have been a significant reunion,” Goathead’s voice resonated within Duncan’s mind.
Pausing for a moment, Duncan responded nonchalantly, “That was the plan initially, but I hesitated and decided against it in the end.”
“Why the change of heart?”
“To be candid,” Duncan admitted, “after the initial greeting, I realized I would be at a loss for words. When it comes to Tyrian, we aren’t as closely acquainted as one might think.”
With an undertone of amusement, Goathead responded, “In the end, you always have the final say. However, it might be wise to consider your future approach to your ‘offspring’. Given the circumstances, you’re bound to cross paths. Maintaining harmonious familial ties can be crucial to one’s fate. I recall a story about…”
Cutting off Goathead’s tangent, Duncan interjected, “Enough of that.” A sudden thought seemed to cross his mind, as evidenced by the mischievous smirk that danced across his lips. “It’s rather unfortunate that our crew is a tad short-handed currently.”
Goathead seemed puzzled. “Short-handed? What do you mean?”
“I’m referring to Alice. She’s currently overseeing the shop in the city,” Duncan elaborated with a hint of glee in his voice. “It just dawned on me that Tyrian was once under the employ of the Frost Queen. Now, Alice bears a striking resemblance to the Queen. It would’ve been intriguing to see Tyrian’s reaction had she been present during our brief encounter. I can only imagine the whirlwind of emotions he’d be grappling with.”
Goathead: “…”
Duncan prodded, “Lost your voice? You’re usually more forthcoming.”
“I typically steer clear of familial complexities,” Goathead admitted, adding with a hint of mischief, “But, hearing your recount, I must say it would’ve been quite a spectacle to witness Tyrian’s reaction to Alice. Perhaps we should consider a return trip, this time with her on board?”
Brushing off Goathead’s cheeky suggestion, Duncan remarked, “I never took you for the humorous type.”
“What does being ‘humorous’ entail?” inquired Goathead.
Duncan chose not to indulge the effigy further, instead, lifting his gaze towards a specific direction.
He had distinctly felt a connection with his counterpart in Pland, even sensing the flames that were consuming the city on the other side of the portal.
“I’m busy”
Well, a very good reunion… i will smack my dad if he said that after not meeting for half the century.
Hope your dad isn’t a ghost captain able to kill anything.
What if it was you who kicked him into the subspace with your own hands?
It’d already great if he didn’t spank you red raw.
Well, Duncan was insane before he went into subspace. The line “Yet, it was indeed a sentence that humans could understand. Clear and reasonable.” Seems to represent this.
dad has no time to play
Duncan Abnomar’s A+ Parenting