Chapter 345: Touching Down

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com

The ominous entity known as “Seagull” was abruptly halted, standing still amidst a violent turmoil. After a relentless onslaught of attacks, it was left in a horrific state of destruction, nearly obliterated into scattered debris. The once robust ship structure was no more, with every deck and architectural element demolished. Shredded pieces of the hull and remnants of the ship’s interiors were strewn across the water’s surface, indicating the aftermath of an intense battle.

Amidst the chaos, slow-spreading globs of dark mud floated in the water among the remains, accompanied by residual flames that sporadically ignited parts of the wreckage. Thick plumes of acrid smoke spiraled upwards from the inferno, tainting the surrounding air.

The Seagull’s path was distinctly marked by an eerie trail of mud-like substance, stretching over ten miles across the sea. This trail eerily mirrored the revolting trail left by a soft-bodied creature emerging from the water, its slime undulating with the sea waves and stubbornly refusing to dissolve.

The previously deafening roar of the coastal defense artillery ceased, and the pungent aroma of gunpowder smoke lingered along the nearby coastline. Colonel Lister found himself captivated by the sight of the flaming wreckage on the water’s surface. Only now did he dare to entertain the notion that the monstrous entity had been brought to a halt. With a hesitant breath, he shattered the newfound silence, asking, “Is it over?”

“It might just be the beginning of something far more complex,” replied Agatha, her voice slightly raspy. Her gaze flickered occasionally with an ethereal light as she continued to monitor the spirit realm, cautiously observing for any movement within the wreckage that could indicate a continued advance towards their city-state. “Remember, the troubles with the Seagull began after it returned from Dagger Island.”

Lister’s face darkened at this comment.

“When was the last communication we received from the island?”

“A few hours ago, a telegram assured everything was normal,” Lister shared, a frown creasing his brow. “There were also no reported disturbances in the church’s psychic communications.”

“Colonel, we must quarantine Dagger Island immediately. From this point forward, we can’t trust any messages from that island,” Agatha advised gravely, releasing a sigh. “I must return to the cathedral now. I anticipate a more extensive quarantine mandate will be enacted soon.”

“I appreciate your assistance, Miss Agatha.”

“It’s all in the name of preserving our city-state’s tranquility,” Agatha whispered. She then recited a brief proverb from the Book of the Dead, “Order in all things.”

Just half an hour before these events.

The distant rumbling of thunderous sounds steadily increased in intensity, each wave more concentrated than the last. Based on the direction of the noise, it seemed to originate near the eastern coast of the city-state.

Duncan lifted his gaze to the sky in the direction of the booming sounds. There, he could vaguely discern the emergence of rising clouds.

“What’s causing that noise?” Alice queried nervously, clutching her head in her hands as she turned to Duncan with a bewildered look. “Could it be thunder?”

“The noise… it’s reminiscent of heavy-duty cannons firing,” Vanna uttered, her expression betraying a tinge of apprehension. “Could those be the sounds of coastal defense artillery? What could be occurring? Why would they be firing in such quick succession?”

Duncan’s features transformed into a contemplative mask. His mind immediately recalled the report he had recently handed to the seasoned guard. The subsequent thought was the direction of Dagger Island—had his prediction been accurate?

Abruptly, the sound of fluttering wings pierced the air. A nondescript, rotund dove burst out from the shadows of a nearby building, taking to the skies with rapid speed, its destination out of sight.

“Don’t fret, I’ve dispatched Ai to survey the situation,” Duncan reassured, his gaze moving toward the somewhat aged building before them, “Please, continue your description of this house.”

Morris swiftly composed himself, ready to resume his interrupted introduction. The ominous rumbling sound from the distance still resonated in the air, but the captain’s composure suggested no immediate cause for alarm. “Vanna and I selected this house from a pool of four potential rentals. The other three were either inconveniently situated near the city center, which would make traveling cumbersome, or the houses were in such a state of disrepair that they were unfit for habitation. Despite its age, this particular house has been well-preserved by the landlord, and the interior is kept exceptionally clean.”

“The residence sits at 44 Oak Street, adjacent to Fireplace Street, where the landlord maintains another property and won’t intrude on us during the weekdays. A quaint path connects the two blocks, with a charming little church nestled in a square between them, located a comfortable distance away from our place…”

“We’ve negotiated a short-term rental agreement, which comes with a slightly higher daily rent than a long-term lease, but it offers us the flexibility to vacate at any time. We’ve already paid half a month’s rent upfront. Vanna and I have met the landlord, a well-educated and affable lady. After learning of my identity as a traveling scholar, she graciously provided some basic necessities…”

As Duncan listened to the old man’s exhaustive account, his eyes surveyed the temporary dwelling that was to be his home.

It was a characteristic northern city home with a coarse greyish-white outer wall covered with insulating porous plaster. The structure was two stories high, featured narrow windows, and had a dark door accompanied by a wall lamp and a mailbox slit. Its roof, constructed at a steep angle and clad with black tiles, was designed for easy snow melting and shedding. Thick steam and gas pipes protruded from the massive pipelines above the block and made their way into the building along the gable.

While it wasn’t a lavish abode, it certainly sufficed as a temporary residence. In fact, it offered more room than Pland’s two-story establishment, which served dual purposes as both a store and a dwelling.

Leaving the task of organizing accommodation to Morris and Vanna was indeed a wise decision, as the other crew members would have likely struggled to handle such a responsibility effectively.

Morris led the way, pulling a key from his pocket and deftly unlocking the front door, with Duncan and Alice trailing closely behind him.

Inside, they were greeted by a welcoming foyer designed for removing footwear and changing out of outdoor clothing. The foyer opened into a fairly spacious living room, with walls adorned with subtly yellowed wallpaper sporting light, intricate patterns. A dining area was adjacent to the living room, beyond which was a bedroom. Directly across from the front door, a staircase promised access to the second floor, where most of the bedrooms were located.

The hardwood floor beneath their feet emitted a soft creak with each step, an auditory testament to the passage of time. Simple but well-maintained furniture—tables and chairs—stood gleaming in the wash of sunlight streaming through the windows. The space was remarkably dust-free. On the dining table, a vibrant bouquet of flowers, crafted from fabric or plastic, lent a touch of cheer to the room.

“The landlord presented us with this,” Morris explained, gesturing towards the bouquet. “It’s a tradition here in Frost. To welcome new tenants, landlords offer a bouquet of flowers that won’t wither during winter, symbolizing health and safety.”

“Every place has its own unique traditions,” Duncan responded with a faint smile, “I quite like this place… and given its distance from the main road, it should provide a quiet haven.”

As he spoke, his gaze drifted up towards the second floor, “It appears we have sufficient space to bring Nina and Shirley here to do their schoolwork. They’ve already begun voicing their discontent about the monotony on the ship.”

A subtle twitch played at the corners of Vanna’s mouth as she remarked, “Shirley might indeed be lamenting her boredom, but I suspect she isn’t eagerly awaiting the opportunity to do homework in the city.”

Duncan waved his hand dismissively, “Regardless of her personal motivation, it’s important she puts more effort into her academics. Dog is already capable of reading the newspaper with relative ease, while she still grapples with the spelling of a dozen common vegetables. It’s a situation that gives me cause for concern about her future. If this continues, she won’t even be able to keep pace with Alice.”

Alice, whose academic performance was not significantly better than Shirley’s, scratched her head and offered an innocent, somewhat sheepish grin, “Hehe…”

Duncan responded with a deadpan expression, “Don’t mistake my comment as praise – the fact that you and Shirley together know fewer words than Dog is not something to be proud of.”

Alice was briefly taken aback, her brows furrowing in contemplation as she tried to gauge whether she and Shirley indeed had a smaller vocabulary than Dog. Meanwhile, the distant thunderous rumbling that had subtly underscored their conversation gradually began to dissipate.

“The sound has ceased…” Vanna noted, her ears attuned to the allaying reverberations from afar.

Duncan remained silent, but through their unique mental bond, he was already privy to what Ai had discovered at the distant source of the commotion.

Over a significant period of adjustment and acclimatization, Duncan’s connection with Ai had developed to an unprecedented level of intimacy and clarity. With sufficient concentration, he could not only share Ai’s sight and a range of other senses but also channel a portion of his power without departing from his physical form.

In the eastern port area of Frost, a rotund white dove perched atop a tower, its round eyes riveted to the sight of the smoke-veiled sea and bustling port. The frenzied activity of soldiers darting about the port, as well as the spreading black “oil pollution” tainting the sea, were reflected in its eyes, which occasionally flickered with a faint green flame.

“There’s no immediate cause for concern,” Duncan declared, retracting his focus from the distant scene and offering a slight nod to Morris and Vanna, “It was an attempted invasion, but the defenders of Frost have managed to repel it.”

Vanna’s expression shifted perceptibly at the mention of an invasion, “Invasion?!”

“If my understanding is correct, the threat originated from Dagger Island. The Frost authorities must have grasped the gravity of the situation by now, making it increasingly difficult for anything dangerous to emerge from the island,” Duncan stated calmly, “Now, with Tyrian’s Mist Fleet also nearing Dagger Island, their presence will only serve to heighten Frost authorities’ state of alert. Given the heightened vigilance throughout the city, the covert cultists of Annihilation are likely to emerge from the shadows. Detecting their activities will be considerably easier then.”

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door, prompting a look of surprise to fleetingly cross the ghost captain’s face.

Could they already be receiving guests this soon after moving in?

“I’ll answer the door,” Morris offered, making his way to the entrance. Upon opening the door, he let out a surprised exclamation, “You are…”

Standing in the doorway was a young girl, bundled in a white, heavy-duty coat and donning a woolen hat.

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