Chapter 224: “The Captain Never Left”

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Vanna closely observed the figure in the mirror, noting his adherence to his word. From the outset, he had declared his intention to merely assess the situation, and true to his promise, he refrained from any unnecessary actions. With his purpose fulfilled, the figure disappeared from the mirror.

For a while, Vanna continued to stare at the now-empty mirror, her expression a mix of suspicion and vigilance. Gradually, she allowed herself to relax, the tension in her muscles easing. However, this brief respite was quickly followed by a spell of introspection and anxiety.

The anxiety Vanna experienced was deeply ingrained, a result of her years as an inquisitor. She was trained to be cautious, especially when dealing with entities tied to ancient tales of terror, such as the ghost captain she had just encountered. Her self-examination revealed a troubling realization: she had let her guard down during her interactions with the ghost captain, a departure from her usual unyielding stance against the supernatural. This lapse in her professional demeanor was unsettling for her, as she was unaccustomed to showing any form of vulnerability or weakness.

In an effort to snap out of her reverie, Vanna slapped her cheek firmly, hoping the sharp sting would bring her back to the present.

In the end, the city remained unharmed. She resolved to report all the events of the evening, including her momentary lapse in judgment, to Bishop Valentine the next morning.

With a heavy sigh, Vanna extinguished the light in her bedroom, allowing the shadows to envelop her as she retreated into the night.

……

In the heart of the lower city, within an old, atmospheric antique shop, Duncan stood on its second floor. He shifted his gaze away from the towering cathedral that dominated the skyline, allowing his eyes to wander over the city’s nocturnal vista.

Duncan was deeply concerned about Vanna. The young inquisitor had clearly experienced a momentary yet intense mental disturbance, which he felt acutely enough to trigger his unique ability to project his consciousness into the physical realm to understand the situation.

Reflecting on it, the aura emanating from Vanna felt eerily familiar. It was an energy signature Duncan had sensed before, buried deep within the recesses of her spirit. To him, the sensation mirrored his confrontation at the bottom of the Vanished, reminding him of the unsettling, chaotic interplay of lights and the ominous door he once faced. He was convinced that Vanna was in contact with subspace.

Furthermore, a particular question she had posed at the end of their recent conversation made him suspect she might be under the influence or threat of something related to this mysterious realm.

Duncan’s fingers drummed thoughtfully on the windowsill as he pieced together the puzzle from the hints he had gathered.

He had since intensified his protective bond with Vanna, theoretically helping her ward off any negative influences from subspace. But the pressing mystery was: why would traces of subspace manifest in Vanna, someone considered a high-ranking saint?

Lost in thought, Duncan recalled a crucial piece of information he had learned previously. Under specific conditions, the souls of those devoted to the four gods were more susceptible to subspace’s corrosive influence than ordinary mortals. In some cases, their souls even formed direct conduits between the real world and subspace. A chapel in the city’s sixth block served as a chilling testament to this, where its leading nun unwittingly became a vessel for malevolent entities from the void.

“Is Vanna undergoing a similar experience? And if so, what could be the catalyst?” he pondered.

After a moment of reflection, Duncan decided to step away from the window, resolving to closely monitor this peculiar development. Trust between him and Vanna was still in its nascent stages; she was unlikely to confide her secrets in him willingly.

As Duncan made his way to his quarters, he heard the sound of gleeful giggles. They were the voices of two young girls – Nina and Shirley. Despite their recent harrowing experience on the legendary ship, they seemed unusually elated, especially Nina.

Surprisingly, after her chilling visit to the ghost ship, Nina appeared unscathed and showed no signs of emotional distress. Rather than showing any trepidation about future supernatural encounters, she remained as bubbly and spirited as ever. This level of cheerfulness, given the circumstances, was eerily unsettling.

Duncan pondered: was this resilience due to the influence of the sun fragment? Or did Nina inherently possess a robust and adaptable temperament that allowed her to accept and move past such experiences?

As he reflected, Duncan began to recognize an unexpected and unique trait in Nina, hinting at a potential latent talent she might possess.

……

As darkness draped the sky, the ethereal luminescence from the rift known as the World’s Creation bathed the deck of the Vanished in a ghostly light.

Suddenly, a flustered Alice appeared, dashing up to the ship’s bridge. “Captain! Where are we setting sail to next?” she inquired impatiently.

Pausing for a moment, Duncan looked down at the doll-like figure. Her radiant purple eyes stared back at him with intense curiosity. “We have no fixed destination at the moment. For now, it’s best to avoid the bustling sea routes between the city-states,” he remarked, adding, “You’re quite spirited today, aren’t you?”

Alice responded with an exuberant nod. “Absolutely!” Despite her poised and regal demeanor, any remnants of her elegance vanished as she nodded with unchecked enthusiasm. “The ship feels so animated today! It’s my first experience of being amidst such a lively crowd.”

Duncan quipped with a smirk, “It’s not always a merry affair gathering so many together. But I suppose the nuances of that might be a tad complex for you.” He then added, somewhat playfully, “Also, try to keep that vigorous nodding of yours in check. It was quite the shock for everyone when your head detached itself.”

A flustered Alice immediately clutched her head, her face showing a hint of concern. “So, after that little incident, will they… will they avoid coming around?”

Duncan reassured her, “I haven’t heard of anyone staying away because of it. Just put it behind you.”

After a few seconds of contemplative silence, Alice asked, “Do you think I’ll get to visit the city-state again in the future? This trip was a whirlwind. Everything happened so fast, it left me feeling disoriented…”

Gazing out at the vast expanse of the sea, then back at Alice, Duncan responded, “Certainly. Tomorrow, I can arrange for Ai to escort you to the antique shop. I could use your assistance there.”

Alice’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “Really? I was under the impression we wouldn’t be returning to the city-state anytime soon. I thought our business there was concluded?”

Duncan remained silent for a moment, contemplating his next words. Finally, he said, “Did you assume that our journey to Pland was merely for business purposes?”

Alice looked puzzled as she scratched her head in bewilderment. “Honestly… I’m not entirely sure.”

With a soft chuckle, Duncan let go of the ship’s wheel. A subtle creaking sound emanated from the Vanished, and the sails stiffened just a bit, indicating the ship had entered a “cruising state,” with Goathead taking control of the vessel.

Heading towards the captain’s quarters, Duncan said nonchalantly to Alice, “This trip was largely about addressing the chaos caused by a group of cultists. But concerning Pland… I feel a deep connection with that city-state. It holds a special place in my destiny.”

“…The captain’s words always carry such depth and wisdom…” Alice whispered to herself, lingering a few steps behind where Duncan had left her.

As Duncan approached the captain’s quarters, he was greeted by the familiar inscription “Door of the Lost” elegantly etched onto the doorframe. Taking a moment to compose himself, he took a deep breath and, with a sense of determination, pushed open the door.

Immediately, a swirling, nebulous fog emerged, engulfing him. For a fleeting moment, he felt the disorienting sensation of floating in a boundless void. Then, just as abruptly, the sensation ceased, depositing him into the serene ambiance of another realm.

Opening his eyes, Zhou Ming found himself inside his modest apartment.

A ritual had developed over time; the first thing Zhou Ming did upon his return was to scan the room, ensuring everything was in its rightful place. From the thick mist that cloaked the view outside his window to the collection of items scattered on the windowsill, nothing seemed out of place.

Although he realized the redundancy of these repeated checks, they had become an integral part of his routine.

Once satisfied, Zhou Ming’s attention turned to his desk. Awaiting him was a meticulously crafted miniature, an impeccable replica of Pland. The craftsmanship was breathtaking, capturing even the most minute details. It was as if every street, every building, every tile had been painstakingly recreated. Zhou Ming was convinced this was not just a replica; it was a projection of the actual Pland, albeit in miniature form within his apartment.

“So, it has manifested here, as I anticipated…”

Gently exhaling, Zhou Ming took a seat, his eyes appreciatively tracing the contours of this latest addition to his collection.

In comparison to the Vanished’s model he possessed, this representation of the city-state was significantly larger, though not to scale. Observing it further, he noticed it appeared custom-made to fit a specific shelf compartment.

But there was something amiss. The bustling life that filled Pland was absent from this model.

“It seems the denizens of the city-state are excluded from this rendition…”

Curious, Zhou Ming closely inspected the miniature once more before gingerly lifting it. Carefully cradling it with both hands, he placed it on its designated shelf. Stepping back, he admired his newest acquisition with a mixture of pride and fondness.

Though the Vanished had sailed away from Pland, in his heart and in his collection, the captain remained ever tethered to the beloved city-state.

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