Chapter 233: The Curse of the Family
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
Bishop Valentine carefully stored the paper with the unfamiliar amulet design, stating, “None of us recognize this symbol. It might be from an ancient era or a secret society yet unknown to us.” He then suggested, “We should check our archives for any related records, and I’ll consult with my academic colleagues to gather more insights.”
Vanna, turning her attention back to Tyrian, asked, “Did your father exhibit any unusual behavior before meeting those strange visitors? For example, did he acquire any mysterious texts or visit any secretive places?”
Tyrian shook his head and replied, “It’s hard to say. A century ago, my father was a renowned explorer. Encountering strange artifacts and secret locations was part of his daily life. My sister Lucretia and I were just beginning to learn from him and explore his ‘collection,’ so we didn’t have many opportunities to uncover more details.”
He paused, sighing softly. “Back then, neither of us foresaw the consequences of what was to come. My father often entertained various unusual guests, so those ‘visitors’ didn’t stand out. By the time we realized something was amiss, almost a year had passed since that ‘secret conversation,’ making further investigation impossible.”
Vanna nodded in agreement, but their discussion was abruptly interrupted by a loud chime and siren coming from the window. Bishop Valentine looked up, noting the sunset and the faint shadow of the World’s Creation in the sky. “The twilight bell is ringing,” he remarked, suggesting they conclude their conversation. He then offered Tyrian the cathedral’s hospitality for the night, with dinner and undisturbed rooms.
“Thank you,” Tyrian expressed his gratitude. “I plan to stay in this city for a few more days. I briefly lived here a century ago and am curious to see the changes.”
“Of course,” Valentine smiled warmly. “The Sea Mist is a friend of Pland, and we always welcome friends. You can stay as long as you like.”
“You are welcome to stay here as long as you want,” Bishop Valentine reiterated, acknowledging the Sea Mist’s alliance with Pland.
Vanna stood up and offered to escort Tyrian to his guest room after gathering the sailors from the nearby room.
As they walked towards the guest room, Tyrian expressed his surprise, “I never expected the Inquisitor to personally escort us. It’s quite an honor for a ‘pirate’ like me.”
Vanna smiled and corrected him, “You’re not just a ‘pirate.’ Your lineage is impressive—son of Captain Duncan, general of the Frost Queen, and commander of the Mist Fleet. If all pirates on the Boundless Sea were of your caliber, we wouldn’t need city-state authorities.”
“… ‘Pirate’ is just a convenient label that allows me to trouble certain people in the Cold Sea. Some even prefer this label to increase the bounty on my head, giving them a false sense of usefulness,” Tyrian explained nonchalantly. “But as you mentioned, those titles belong to the past, Miss Inquisitor.”
After a moment of silence, Tyrian added, “I’ve never shared so much about my past with an outsider before. I hope you understand.”
Vanna nodded. “I can imagine it must be difficult,” she said sympathetically. “But sometimes, to find a solution, we must confront what makes us uncomfortable or uneasy. That’s what we’re trying to do here in Pland: uncover the truth and find a way to help your father.”
Tyrian nodded, “I understand. Thank you, Miss Inquisitor, for your understanding and willingness to help.”
As he spoke, Tyrian glanced at Vanna’s eyes but quickly averted his gaze, feeling a stronger pressure than earlier. Recalling the recent interaction with the inquisitor, Tyrian began to suspect the source of his discomfort.
Vanna noticed Tyrian’s unease and asked directly, “Captain Tyrian, you seem a bit tense. Is something making you nervous?”
“No, Inquisitor,” Tyrian responded hesitantly. “You mentioned communicating with my father multiple times. Did he impart any gifts or powers to you during those interactions?”
Vanna abruptly halted. “Why do you ask?”
Tyrian quickly clarified, “I don’t mean to imply anything else. I just wanted to highlight the power my father brought back from subspace. It’s highly unusual and difficult to remove, and it’s extremely polluting, like other chaotic erosion from subspace. If you accidentally delve too deep…”
Vanna took a deep breath and thanked him. “Thank you for reminding me,” she said sincerely.
However, Vanna couldn’t shake the feeling that Tyrian’s warning had come too late. Captain Duncan’s influence seemed more severe than anticipated, and she could only hope he would knock before seeking her out…
Though Tyrian was unaware of Vanna’s thoughts, he sensed the awkwardness in the air. Vanna quickly broke the silence.
“I have a question,” she said. “Your father mentioned a ‘countdown’ before losing his sanity. Do you know anything more about it? Did he mention any details?”
As Vanna asked, she recalled her previous communication with the goddess of storms, Gomona, and the cryptic message: “Time is limited and about to reach the critical limit.”
Vanna now saw a connection between the message and the “countdown” Tyrian mentioned.
Tyrian locked eyes with Vanna, both silent for a few moments. Eventually, Tyrian spoke, “During his last moments, he told Lucretia, ‘our world is just a pile of extinguishing embers.’”
As they reached the end of the corridor, Tyrian thanked Vanna, “Thank you for leading the way. I’d like to spend some time alone with my subordinates.”
Vanna nodded. “Of course, I understand. Please reach out if you need anything,” she replied, heading back.
Once the door closed, Tyrian felt a wave of relief in the quiet surroundings.
Reflecting on his conversation with the inquisitor, Tyrian couldn’t shake the pressure he sensed from Vanna. It reminded him of the sensation when his father looked at him, sending shivers down his spine. He pondered its meaning.
“Captain, is everything alright?” A trusted sailor asked, concerned. “You’ve seemed tense since we landed.”
“I’m fine,” Tyrian reassured, waving it off. “Could you bring the items over?”
One of Tyrian’s trusted sailors approached the table, placing a suitcase from the Sea Mist on it. Tyrian unlocked it with a key, revealing its contents.
Inside was a complex lens apparatus with multiple small lenses and curved connectors, centered around a large crystal ball.
“Watch the door, don’t let anyone disturb me,” Tyrian instructed his men.
Once several sailors had left, Tyrian focused on the crystal ball, adjusting a lens and murmuring “Lucretia.”
The lens assembly trembled, and the crystal ball emitted a glow, accompanied by a disquieting sound, until Lucretia’s outline appeared, saying, “I am present.”
“Why is the image blurry?” Tyrian frowned. “Where are you?”
“I… am at the border,” Lucretia’s voice crackled through static. “The surrounding… environment… is causing interference. I’m adjusting… Is it better now? Can you hear me clearly?”
The interference lessened, and Lucretia’s form became clearer.
“The environment around me has shifted, and the spirit realm is disrupting reality,” the crystal ball’s voice explained. “Is everything alright, brother? The Bright Star is in turbulent waters. If it’s not urgent…”
“I’m in Pland,” Tyrian said. “The Sea Mist was damaged in the battle with the Vanished, and this city-state seems unsettling.”
Lucretia was taken aback.
After a pause, Lucretia’s anxious voice asked, “Did you truly encounter the Vanished? Are you safe?”
“… I was beaten up, but I’m fine now,” Tyrian said quietly. “The problem is… ‘his’ situation seems off.”
“His situation isn’t right?” Lucretia frowned. “You met him up close?”
“Yes.”
“Then…” Lucretia hesitated, “So you saw our ‘father’?”
“… Not exactly.”
Dang, almost got a title drop!
“‘our world is just a pile of extinguishing embers.”
Very nice. The author’s getting a hell of a lot of mileage out of that title; the Creeping Sunwheel, Duncan’s green flame, the embers of civilization itself; very well done.
the end of the chapter is repeated, i hope nothing was deleted